Shanghai
After multiple rushed trips, I finally slowed down to savor Shanghai – and it taught me a pandemic lesson: life’s too short for ‘someday’ travels. Those alleyway jazz bars, steamed buns at dawn, and art deco details I always took for granted? They’re why I now believe the best journeys aren’t convenient, but conscious.
I crafted the ultimate weather-contingent itinerary – rooftop bars for golden-hour Bund views on clear days, moody speakeasies when clouds roll in. But the real hack? Booking a room where the skyline becomes my living room art. Pro tip: In Shanghai, you don’t visit the scenery… you check into it.
Checked off my bucket list at 1933 Millfun – this brutalist maze of concrete and light belongs in a Christopher Nolan film. Got lost in lilong alleyways where the real Shanghai breathes (pro tip: follow the scent of ginger-steamed xiaolongbao). Balanced it all with gallery hopping on the Bund and retail therapy along Nanjing Road – because this city deserves to be savored in layers.
Cloudy days are my secret weapon for exploring the Bund area – the diffused light turns these colonial facades into a vintage film set. Every block unveils a new chromatic drama: pistachio-green art deco apartments, rust-red brick townhouses, and honey-hued banks that aged like fine whiskey. Pro tip: Wear comfortable shoes – you’ll stop every 50 meters when the architecture keeps whispering ‘just one more shot’ to your camera.
Skip the queues and admission fees – the real magic happens when you wander aimlessly through these storybook streets. Each unassuming building whispers Shanghai’s eclectic past: neoclassical banks that hosted 1920s tycoons, art deco apartments where jazz-age socialites partied, and weathered shikumen residences still smelling of yesterday’s braised pork. The only soundtrack? Your footsteps echoing through architecture that time forgot.
The Bund by day trades its lightshow for raw architectural theater – same grand European facades, now glowing with natural patina instead of LEDs. I instinctively framed these sunlit sentinels through my phone, already imagining their Cinderella moment when twilight turns each column into a golden flute of champagne. Pro tip: Visit twice and get two cities for the price of one.
After soaking in the Bund’s timeless grandeur, I drifted toward Nanjing Road – one of China’s most legendary shopping streets. But before reaching its century-old storefronts, Huawei’s space-age flagship stopped me in my tracks. The contrast was delicious: 1920s colonial architecture reflected in floor-to-ceiling glass displaying cutting-edge tech. Only in Shanghai do heritage and hyper-modernity hold hands so effortlessly.
I hesitated at the entrance – then surrendered to curiosity. What awaited inside was a revelation: a cathedral of technology bathed in creamy whites and champagne gold. The soaring minimalist space, deliciously air-conditioned, practically whispered ‘sit, stay awhile.’ We collapsed onto the sculptural staircase (Instagram gold!), then ascended floor by floor – each level unfolding like chapters in a design manifesto. Who knew a tech store could double as an urban spa?
The second floor revealed a series of sleek experience pods – each minimalist chamber framed like a contemporary art installation. My sister literally squealed with delight when we discovered these Instagram-ready vignettes. She immediately struck poses on the designer sofas, transforming into a tech influencer before my eyes. The genius? Every soundproofed room became our private photo studio in this temple of innovation.
The crisp white aesthetic continued upwards – each experience zone more Instagram-worthy than the last, framed against Shanghai’s glittering skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. Just when we thought the surprises were over, the fourth floor unveiled an avant-garde tech exhibition, blending cutting-edge innovation with gallery-worthy curation. This wasn’t shopping – it was cultural immersion with 5G.
There she was – Ruan Lingyu, China’s original screen goddess, frozen in qipao-clad perfection. That one photograph transported me to 1930s Shanghai: her poise radiating quiet confidence, the subtle curve of her painted lips whispering stories of a bygone era. In that heartbeat, this ceased being just an exhibition – it became a portal to when jazz floated through the Peace Hotel and silk stockings were revolutionary. I adjusted my pace accordingly, determined to savor every artifact of this forgotten glamour.
Circling back through the space, I realized this was Shanghai’s living room for the creatively curious. Tech enthusiasts hunched over devices with the focus of chess masters, design lovers tracing product curves like sculpture, entire families bonding over gadget demos – each visitor composing their own perfect moment in this temple of innovation. No pressured sales, just pure discovery. Now this is how retail should feel.
As hunger struck, we made a pact – no guidebook-approved xiaolongbao joints today. Instead, I led my sister down Shan Yin Road, a 117-year-old time capsule where laundry still flutters between art deco buildings. The rhythmic clatter of bamboo steamers guided us to a hole-in-the-wall that’s been perfecting soup dumplings since my grandmother’s era. No English menus, just the beautiful chaos of locals queuing with their own containers – the ultimate seal of approval in Shanghai’s culinary underworld.
The narrow lane unfolded like a sepia-toned postcard – russet-brick buildings framed by towering plane trees, their leaves whispering Shanghai’s secrets. There, tucked between vintage bookstalls, pulsed the holy grail: Wan Shou Zhai’s unassuming storefront with its perpetual serpentine queue. Raindrops be damned, we joined the pilgrimage of umbrella-clutching regulars. Inside, the steamy ballet unfolded – strangers becoming temporary family as elbows brushed over shared tables. That first bite of parchment-thin dumpling skin bursting with golden broth? Absolute culinary alchemy worth every crowded moment.
We ordered two bamboo steamers – one with classic pork (8 delicate parcels per serving) and another with jumbo shrimp (made-to-order, steam still rising). The ritual began: 1) Carefully lift with chopsticks 2) Sip the golden broth through the pastry’s ‘window’ 3) Blow gently (trust me, that pork consommé is lava-hot) 4) Devour in one glorious bite. Pro tip: Pair with their aromatic beef curry soup – the umami contrast is life-changing.
Belly full of dumplings, we wandered Shan Yin Road’s dappled shadows – where every weathered brick seems to whisper stories. Suddenly, a mural exploded with China’s literary giants: Lu Xun’s piercing gaze, Qu Qiubai’s revolutionary poise, all immortalized where they once walked. The ultimate plot twist? Lu Xun’s ivy-clad residence stood mere steps away (note to self: always book ahead for hallowed ground). This wasn’t just a lane – it was an open-air museum of 20th century genius, with the scent of xiaolongbao still clinging to our clothes.
With cameras in hand, my sister and I embarked on the perfect post-lunch adventure – a photogenic 1.5km stroll to the legendary 1933 Old Millfun. We meandered past tree-lined avenues where colonial villas winked at sleek coffee shops, capturing vignettes of Shanghai’s fascinating duality. Every block revealed new textures – the patina of old brass door knockers contrasting with neon-lit bubble tea shops. This wasn’t transit; it was an urban safari where the journey rivaled the destination.
1933 Old Millfun absolutely stole my heart with its surreal architectural ballet – spiraling staircases straight from a Haussmannian dream, cathedral-like columns holding up the sky, and those endless aerial walkways where you can play hide-and-seek with light and shadows. The pièce de résistance? Framing shots through the industrial ribcage of corridors to capture Shanghai’s ultimate juxtaposition: these 1930s Art Deco bones with a futuristic skyline bursting through every window like some cyberpunk prophecy.
This place is the ultimate yin-yang of Shanghai – moody gray concrete walls creating the perfect moody backdrop against which the city’s vibrant energy bursts to life. Pro tip: wear something colorful for Insta-magic contrast! I even met the resident feline superstar posing like she owned the place (because let’s be real, she does). Fun fact for pop culture fans: you’re literally walking through sets from ‘Running Man’ and ‘Tiny Times’ – no CGI needed when reality looks this cinematic.
After soaking in 1933’s architectural magic all afternoon, we recharged at the industrial-chic Starbucks until twilight. Then – the moment every traveler waits for – our first glimpse of The Bund at night! As darkness fell, Shanghai transformed before our eyes: the Art Deco buildings became golden necklaces, while the Pearl Tower put on its lightshow costume like a futuristic Christmas tree. This wasn’t just a view – it was the living, breathing postcard of ‘Paris of the East’ that makes every camera shutter go wild.
The waterfront promenade buzzed with electric energy – couples strolling hand-in-hand, families laughing under neon glow, and photographers chasing that perfect shot of passing light-adorned cruise ships. Every glance revealed postcard-perfect moments: the historic Peace Hotel’s emerald spire winking at our sleek Ritz-Carlton across the river, now transformed into a glittering jewel in Shanghai’s iconic skyline. This wasn’t just sightseeing; it was immersion in the living theater of China’s most dazzling metropolis at its peak hour.
We capped our magical night at FLAIR – the impossibly chic 58th-floor aerie where Shanghai’s glitterati come to play. Perched atop the Ritz-Carlton, this sky-high speakeasy delivered the ultimate wow moment: sipping craft cocktails while the Pearl Tower literally sparkled at eye-level. No zoom lenses needed here – just lean against the floor-to-ceiling windows and suddenly, you’re not just seeing the skyline… you’re part of it. Pro tip: arrive before sunset to watch the city transform from golden hour to neon wonderland!
Bathed in the bar’s amber glow, my sister and I claimed a cozy corner booth where mixology magic happened. The bartender’s ‘trust me’ mojito arrived in a showstopping goblet – one citrusy sip had us humming Jay Chou’s latest bop involuntarily. To celebrate her post-Gaokao freedom, the flair bartender crafted a bespoke cocktail called ‘Adolescence’ – a rebellious blend of lychee-infused gin and popping candy that tasted like liquid confetti. In that moment, with the Pearl Tower winking through the glass, Shanghai wasn’t just a skyline… it was a mood.
The Ritz-Carlton’s Pearl River Suite played the ultimate double act – by day, our private box seats to Huangpu’s aquatic ballet of barges and sailboats; by night, we became the spectacle as the tower’s lightshow reflected in our floor-to-ceiling mirrors. This wasn’t just a room swap, it was a masterclass in perspective-shifting luxury where Shanghai’s skyline performed its 24/7 metamorphosis just for us. Suddenly, ‘room with a view’ felt like the understatement of the century.
We turned our palatial suite into a grown-up playground – cannonballing onto cloud-like beds, staging bubble bath photoshoots, and laughing until our cheeks hurt at mirror-face antics. Between pillow fights, it hit me: my baby sister wasn’t just post-Gaokao… she was post-childhood. ‘This is your blank canvas,’ I whispered as we traced Shanghai’s skyline from our nest of Egyptian cotton. The suite’s magic? It held space for both our silly memories and her soaring future – with room service chocolate for emotional support.
Morning light spilled over the skyline—Shanghai in rare golden-hour glory. From my perch at the Ritz, I watched the city pulse below: suited dream-chasers weaving through traffic, delivery riders balancing breakfasts and ambitions. Each glass tower reflected a different story—some chasing fortune, others just survival. You could almost feel the heat rising off the pavement through the glass! Today’s agenda? A ‘staycation’ photoshoot—because when your hotel room frames the Pearl Tower like this, why go anywhere else?
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