There is no one in the reception area, or wandering the corridors coming in from other flights, or immigration; not a single passenger from any other flight, just the several hundred souls who made the same 14 hour trip as you.
Welcome to China. Expect the unexpected. Or maybe I came on an off day?
After hearing so much about the massive push of humankind that is Shanghai, and China in general, the reality is far more appealing. It is no more crowded than New York and equally as liveable. Why this should come as a surprise, I don't know. But there are people who led me to believe otherwise. The lack of Mandarin is frustrating and makes life about 8 times as difficult as it should be, but otherwise, Shanghai is a beautiful, special, wonderful city. So far.
So the days have blended into one another. After arriving on Thursday the 26th, with much pre-flight fanfare (more on that later), and a jarring, jaw-dropping drive through the Pudong into Puxi, I settled into my corporate long-stay apartment in the Luwan neighborhood in what was formerly the French Concession.
A haven for gangsters in the heyday of the late 19th and early 20th century, the French Concession has become the solace of Shanghai's hip and its expats, all the up-and-comers, and is considered by some more knowledgeable than I to be the south-central heartbeat of the city.
My apartment itself is an ugly little number of about 35 stories, one of four buildings (i think) in a complex which seems typically Shanghainese. There's a central-ish courtyard and playground area and I think every building (they're all of roughly equal size) comes with a swimming pool and a tennis court.
Well, as first posts go, I think this was sufficiently scattered. More to come later, including, potentially news of a first story. And the exciting pre-flight extravaganza as I and my fellow passengers experience the inaugural flight for Continental's Newark to Shanghai service. Oh the excitement! Oh the humanity! Oh the kitsch!!!!!!
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