Danny in Asia

Monday February, 11

Today is National Foundation Day, a national holiday that was re-introduced in 1966 after going through a series of ups and downs over the course of Japanese history.  The day is supposedly dates back to the crowning of Japan’s first official emperor, Jimmu; an event and person which historians still debate having ever existed.  The holiday also became influential during the Meiji Restoration, and was used to bolster Japanese nationalism in Japan’s aggressive colonial period.  Understandably, the holiday was sidelined after the war until the modest version observed today was agreed upon forty years ago.  It seems to me it can be described as somewhere between the USA’s Memorial Day and Flag Day.  It is a low key affair compared to its history as a major festival.

I’ve asked several people what this day means to them and the answers vary.  Naito Sensei, a teacher at my school told me he reflects on the state of his homeland, but he thinks most people view it as just another three day weekend.  My girlfriend responded to my questions about the day with a puzzled stare.

“Ken koku kinen no hi…desu ka?” she said.  “Nani sore?  (What’s that?)”  I like to think her ignorance on the subject is a result of her sporadic nursing schedule and not having normal statewide holidays, but I have a feeling that most young people would respond similarly.  And who’s to blame them?

My first reaction to this holiday, National Foundation Day, was also one of puzzlement.  I mean when could Japan really claim to be founded?  There exist a handful of countries that are basically as old as time, that gradually grew into countries as the concept came to exist.  Greece, England, China, and Japan among others all share a legacy of power and sovereignty unique to most of the world.  Japan is an even rarer case in that it has maintained a territorial and ethnic solidarity unlike any other country on Earth.  England’s always been England, China always China; but the Scots, Irish, Tibetans and Uighurs would like to change these facts perhaps.  This isn’t the case in Japan.

The former colonies of the world shoot off fireworks and shake an angry fist or two at their former rulers, while Japan quietly enjoys a day off, recognizing that it is still the island nation it’s always been.

“Honorable customers, sorry to have made you wait as it is a burden for you.” The waiter is holding two plates and our ticket. We’re in one of many family style restaurants that offer food low on cost and atmosphere. The waiter continues:

“One order of cream sauce pasta with asparagus.” I raise my hand and bow slightly. At least I think I do. Maybe I blink my eyes and nod, or raise my eyebrows and say “hai.” I can never be sure anymore, but rest assured I do something awkward in an attempt to be polite. The waiter then one-ups me by standing hesitantly with the second dish.

“One order of hamburger steak with cheese.” Chiaki isn’t paying attention. She’s engrossed in her cell phone, reading some email. This strange standoff lasts only a second but it seems longer to me. He looks at me and can’t seem to put the plate down without some kind of confirmation. Maybe I look hungry, like I could use an extra entrée. That’s probably the truth. Finally I motion to Chiaki. He nods. Just as he suspected, the dish was hers.

This interaction seems absurd but is often the reality of living in such a polite society as Japan. As in this exchange, I’m often baffled by how much common sense is abandoned in the name of politeness. If one person has claimed the pasta, one could deduce that the remaining dish might go to the remaining person at the table. But what if he were wrong? Can you imagine the shock of the customers and ensuing embarrassment?

Everywhere in Japan you can observe how people go to such extreme lengths to tip-toe around each other. Here are a couple tips to observe to help you through your day:

1. Constantly mutter “sumimasen” (excuse me). A slur of indistinguishable sss sounds will suffice. This will give you a “polite buffer zone” if anyone should come out of nowhere and become offended by your innate inadequacies.

2. When driving, all passing should be done at no more than 3km per hour so as to not startle drivers who choose to turn. Bicycles should be given 2-3 meters of space at all times. Try to completely enter the lane of oncoming traffic if possible when passing bicycles and pedestrians.

3. Whatever you do, don’t believe your eyes. If your looking for someone, and you think you may have found them, it’s best to ask another person if they are really there. I learned this trick from the kids at my schools. Everyday they enter the teacher’s room, look straight at me, and ask if the English teacher is there. I say I am indeed there, and we head off to English class.

4. All rules and politeness are suspended when on a crowded train. Groping even seems to be okay in this situation! You also needn’t worry about any niceties if you’re drunk or you are older than 70 years of age.

Please lets enjoying Japan!  !*(^o^)*!

Japan doesn’t need Joe Camel or the Marlboro Man. These blatant methods used in the past to lure the youth to smoking are nothing compared to the subtle ease of the habit in this country. While the U.S., Canada, and other developed nations are kicking smokers to the curb, literally, Japan remains a refuge for smokers.

Cigarette vending machines are everywhere, ensuring easy access to all ages. In my schools there are no smoking signs everywhere, but over fifty percent of the male teachers head to the obvious smoking room between, or during, classes. Why is it obvious? It’s the door that reeks and has a billow of smoke emanating from it. Some administrators are more brazen. One principal sneaks out behind the gym to puff, and another vice principal doesn’t seem to care at all and smokes openly outside the teacher’s room.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise today when I stumbled across the latest arts and crafts projects the sixth graders are working on: ashtrays. They’re making them from the bottoms of aluminum cans, where the can’s sides are cut and braided in beautiful origami fashion to form a perfect resting spot for your burning vice. They look a lot better than the makeshift trays made from half a beer can back in college.

It’s not all doom and gloom for the lungs of Japan, however. As of May last year there have been a series of laws passed about smoking in public places like restaurants and stores. In the future I see organizations that put pressure to ban smoking facing an uphill battle. Smokers make up the power center of this country, and the pervasive attitude of smoking as “the way things are” will be hard to break.

Japan has long held the distinction as one of the world’s most expensive travel destinations. Many of my friends and family have expressed their long-held desire to visit me since I’ve moved here, but many seem to hesitate when it comes down to the question: “How much will it cost?”

This guide has a number of tips for budget backpacking and long-term travel in Japan. My suggestions won’t always give you the most comfortable trip, and are geared more toward the backpacker, vagabond crowd with a loose itinerary. However, some of the information will benefit all travelers, and those foreigners already living here. I’ve broken it into three sections: transportation, accommodations, and food.

The most well known and widely advertised multi-use ticket is the JR pass. It is convenient, will get you just about anywhere in the country, and can be purchased (by non-residents only) and used year round. At $240 for a week, the pass in itself is not cheap. And since Japan offers no night train service you won’t save any money on accommodations. There is a much cheaper alternative for those with a flexible schedule.

I recommend the seishun ju-hachi kippu, which roughly translates to the youthful 18 ticket. Despite the name, the ticket has no age restrictions, but is only available three times a year during Japanese school holidays. The best time to come by far is the spring, with mild weather and the possibility of seeing some cherry blossoms. At only 11,500 yen (about $95 USD) it’s a real bargain if you’re willing to make a few of the necessary sacrifices.

The ticket is valid for either five days or five people. Each day or person will be counted and stamped on the ticket, allowing unlimited travel on local and rapid train service from the time of validation until last train. Because you won’t be allowed to take direct routes that bullet and express trains use, you’ll be required to transfer a lot if spanning long distances. If you have time and are reasonably comfortable negotiating foreign train stations, you shouldn’t have any problems traveling city to city with this ticket. I like the leisurely pace of local trains, the more remote places these routes often take you, and the opportunity to meet more people as opposed to the reserved seats full of stuffy salary men on bullet trains. For those with a free schedule this ticket provides a pleasant way to travel, and most importantly is cheap.

My favorite places to rest my weary bones are rogue camping, internet cafes, and love hotels.

Let’s start with the cheapest being free camping. I should say that this does come with some possible risks, but is pretty easy and a great way to extend your trip for no money. I recommend small city parks in the trees, or any mountains. I camped in a city park several times in the medium sized town I used to live in. If you set up camp late and get up early the chances of having police run-ins are pretty low. Japan is one of the most non-confrontational places on Earth, so even if some early risers find you camped out, chances are they won’t bother you. Just be respectful.

I prefer camping in mountains to parks. Japan is mostly mountainous, and most of these are undeveloped and covered in a meticulous grid of industrial cedar with sparse ground cover; perfect for spending a night. You can use Google Earth to find more rural stations within walking distance of mountains. There are also a limited amount of privately owned camping locations, but most remain closed until the approved camping season begins in the summer months.

Internet cafes have a much different feel to them in Japan than in the rest of Asia. There is more of an exclusive feel about the cafes here, and indeed some require a small introductory membership fee. This charge has its perks, with many cafes offering free drink service, showers, and even laundry. The internet is just one of many ways these establishments strive to make you feel comfortable, as they are targeting the overworked, overstressed salaryman segment of the population. You can set up camp here undisturbed for a few hours of shut eye, or even take advantage of night packages that are increasingly available for between 1,500-2,500 yen. Private booths or small rooms are provided with reclining captain chairs, so sleeping shouldn’t be a problem. Make sure you check with the cleanliness and amenities of the place before you sign up for your member’s card. Internet cafes are a great place to spend a night in the big cities if you don’t want to spring for a solo love hotel room.

This brings us to the most interesting accommodation in Japan. Love hotels range in price from 5,000 to 10,000 yen a night depending on room and location. These are comparable in price to business hotels but are far more spacious and fun. For couples traveling together the experience is a must. The rooms are often lavishly decorated and everything is clean despite most people’s preconceived images of by-the-hour sex hotels. Many also offer free karaoke and movie selections if you can figure out the remote control. Even if you’re traveling solo these places are a good bet. Also, you won’t feel like a loser checking in by yourself because they’re completely anonymous. You pick the picture of the room you want, press the button, and the door unlocks. Some require money up front paid through a slot in the door, and others have vending machine pay stations in the room. In this country notorious for infidelity, discretion is crucial.

If your trying to see Japan on the cheap you can forget all of those images of eating sashimi in small tatami rooms surrounded by rice paper doors. The traditional “kaiseki” dining experience is something even modern Japanese pay dearly for. Chances are you’ll find yourself in restaurant/bars called izakayas, family restaurants, and noodle shops being served by either a grumpy old woman or helium voiced 20-something rather than the diminutive Geisha.

A common problem is that the coolest restaurants and quaint izakayas often don’t have English menus. Even modest izakayas aren’t cheap, and if you’re ordering based on the recommendations of the staff you could be in for sticker shock when the bill arrives. Be careful. Bars and izakayas often slip in seating charges for complementary food served with drinks, but sometimes they let the charge slide for foreigners.

When I travel I eat at a combination of noodle shops specializing in ramen, soba (buckwheat noodles), and udon (thick flour noodles); family style restaurants like Coco’s or Denny’s; and convenience and grocery store bento boxes. I know it doesn’t sound very glamourous to travel all the way to Asia to eat at a 7-eleven, but if you include these in the meal rotation you can save money to splurge on nicer meals and drinks at night. This is basically the way Japanese people eat out, sticking to noodle shops and family restaurants mostly, and socializing with friends in izakayas. If you stick to these you’ll be living like a local.

Here are some common foods to look for with prices to give you an idea how to budget:

Beer: 500-600 yen eating out, 150-280 yen in stores Ramen: 450-800 yen
Convenience/grocery store bento/sushi 200-500 yen
Izakaya food 700-1200 yen each The key to an enjoyable, cheap trip in Japan is to be flexible and remember that paying more doesn’t always ensure more comfort or enjoyment. I’ve stayed in shoebox business hotels and spacious love hotels for the same price. I’ve scarcely whetted my appetite at izakayas for 5000 yen and been stuffed at a noodle shop for 1000. And if you’re out to have a true Japanese experience, whatever this image looks like for you, realize that in modern Japan the wonderful people and quirky experiences are lurking around every corner, from the hole-in-the-wall bar to the perfect hillside camping spot. There is no place like Japan, and regardless of how much you shell out, it will be unforgettable.

Mr. Naito loves pachinko, this point is certain.  The first time we spoke about the subject his low voice resonated with an excited buzz that only true passion and Marlboro Reds can create.  It was as if he were describing his children.

“For me, he begins in broken English.  Pachinko is best game…the whole world.”  It appears his fellow countrymen agree.  In the modern Japanese landscape pachinko is ubiquitous.  From the hidden nooks and crannies of Tokyo and Osaka to lonely country roads, you can’t get very far in Japan without coming across the brightly lit gambling parlors that are one of the country’s most mysterious icons.

When I arrived in Japan over two years ago the pachinko parlors surrounding Narita airport were the first things I noticed.  My company’s liaison who was taking me to my new home responded to my questions unenthusiastically.

“Oh it’s pachinko.  It’s like gambling, but since gambling for money is illegal they try to win small metal balls.”

“And what next?” I asked.  “Do you get money for the balls?”

”I think so.  I’m not really sure if that’s allowed.  I heard they trade them for cigarettes.  I’m not really sure.  I’ve never tried it.”
This seems to me the trend among foreigners.  Many travelers and expats who adopt Japan as home cultivate a pet interest in the unique culture after arrival.  Language, food, animation and comics, tea ceremony, and video games all have their appeal to the foreign crowd, but rarely do you meet a foreigner who is a pachinko fan.  It seems to be a segment of society best left unexplored.

I’ve been no exception.  Pachinko has always been an eyesore in my book, places that feed on addiction and produce nothing but noise and eye pollution.  When my mother visited soon after my arrival we decided to wander into a pachinko parlor in Tokyo to see what it was all about.  The first thing that hits you is a wall of sound.  Row after row of machines all belt out a series of blips, beeps and bells on par with the busiest Vegas casinos.  Sitting at the machines are mostly middle aged men, chain smoking as they plug away at the machines hour after hour.  We could only stand the noise and smoky haze for a minute before retreating back to the street.

I’ve poked my head in a couple more pachinko places since then in an attempt to understand this craze that’s gripped Japan.  The machines are set up like vertical pinball, where small round balls are shot up and then filter down through a grid of nails.  The player can move a dial to control the trajectory of the balls.  They then filter down into designated slots that award payouts in the form of more balls.  There are newer machines that are far more complicated, combining slot machine elements or higher stakes for the true pachinko aficionados, nicknamed ”pachi-puro”.  Many players find a machine’s sweet spot adjustment and simply press a button in between cigarette drags.  The whole thing seems like a huge bore.  Could this non-gambler be missing something?  I’d have to try it for myself.

* * *

Mr. Naito teaches fourth grade at one of the schools where I teach English.  He’s been extremely kind to me from the start and I consider him a good friend and exceptional teacher.  I always look forward to our conversations.

“Naito-sensei, I’m going to try pachinko.”  He smirks and cocks his head in doubt in true Japanese form.  “Do you have any tips for me?”

”Oh…I’m pachinko professional.  Please take care.”  I explain to him that I simply want the experience.  I’m tired of blindly criticizing something I don’t understand and haven’t tried.  He flips open his cell phone and starts scrolling through the days on his calendar.  At the bottom are numbers.

“In February I’m making 100,000 yen. January too, 100,000 yen”  As he flips through the dates I can see his luck varies significantly day to day.  It also appears that he doesn’t ever seem to go a day without trying his luck. Thursday, up 40,000; Friday, down 25,000; Saturday up 60,000; Sunday up 150,000.

“That’s 1,200 dollars. How long did you play that day?” I ask.

“Too long. My daughter hates. In one hour I can spending 40,000-60,000. You shouldn’t do. Daniel-sensei should only try, only enjoy. My cousin works for pachinko parlor so…I learn secrets. I’m professional, I’m pachi-puro.”

Pachi-puros like Mr. Naito can rake in an extra $1000-2000 in gambling earnings a month, or lose it.  He goes on to explain that pachinko is a big social problem he’s admittedly part of.  Guys can blow a days earnings in an hour, and playing out of desperation often ends badly.  Thinking back I can recall that many of my Japanese friends seem to have a pachinko story.

My girlfriend’s previous relationship ended because of his addiction.  Their plans always fell by the wayside if a machine was hitting.  Another buddy of mine in his early twenties hardly visits home anymore because his parents have decided to spend their retirement in the parlors putting their life savings on the line.  Most of the stories come from disgruntled wives and girlfriends, but even women are starting to fill the stools as the huge pachinko syndicates more aggressively court their patronage. Game centers for kids even have pachinko so they can be ready for the big leagues when they turn 18.

* * *

After three weeks of hesitation I finally settle on a day rainy enough to warrant sitting indoors wasting my time, money and lungs.  I can now cross the pachinko experience off the checklist.

With pachinko the game of chance begins before you sit down.  You must get a certain amount of balls into the designated starting slot before other higher paying slots open up.  When this mystery number is reached the machine starts to “hit”.  Depending on how much the machine has been played that day, you might need one or one hundred balls in that starting slot before your odds improve and the real fun starts.  Pachi-puros know which machines are going to hit and line up outside parlors each morning to make sure they can pick their winners.

I sit down to a machine that hasn’t hit today according to the digital stats.  I start with 500 yen knowing full well this will give me a minute’s play tops.  At 4 yen a ball, soon 125 balls are flying through the machine.  There’s a staff member looking over my shoulder telling me which part of the grid to aim for.  I try to keep the dial steady but there’s too much going on.  In the middle of the game is a digital screen where huge-breasted cartoon girls keep track of my score and cheer me on.
The guy at the machine behind me switches out his full bucket of balls for an empty.  Four full buckets surround his stool.  He probably started with 10,000 yen compared to my measly 500 yen coin.  After his session is finished he can trade in his earning for cigarettes, snacks, even big prizes like appliances.  But he’ll probably opt for the other prizes offered like plastic gold bricks or various dummy chips that can be traded off-site for cash.  These speakeasy style shops provide an convenient way around the gambling illegality problem, and despite being technically illegal in their own right are protected by police, the yakuza organized crime network, and even top bureaucrats.  These back-alley operations only payout 2.5 yen a ball, then sell the dummy chips back to the parlors, skimming some of the top of course.  So everyone’s making money but me.

The balls stop.  The cartoon boobs stop bouncing.  It’s over and I can now speak from experience when I say that I don’t really care for pachinko.  If you’re the type of gambler that likes betting a buck on a hand of blackjack or $20 buy-in poker nights, pachinko might not be for you.  As recreation you need some big bucks up front, and as a money-maker it requires the selfish dedication typical of serious gamblers anywhere.  When you throw into the mix the industry’s ties to crooked cops and bureaucrats, organized crime, and some even say the North Koreans, pachinko’s bright lights start to dim.  But its hold on Japan is firm, with those in power protecting it and parking lots full, pachinko is definitely here to stay.  The only question remaining is whether it hops the sea from these unique neon islands. Somehow I doubt it.

The permanence of my departure from Japan has left me switching back and forth between feelings of excitement and apprehension. I’ve left plenty of places, but there’s always been some kind of physical anchor left behind, something to make me feel like I have to return. Since my girlfriend is moving to Portland, that anchor’s gone too. As I’ve spent the week packing up boxes I know Japan isn’t my home anymore.

my backpack,

and a huge stack of Chinese cash we used to play poker with last year.

I was the only one among my friend’s willing to buy the gambling stack and I never got around to changing it before I left. Good thing I’m going back.

I was the only one among my friend’s willing to buy the gambling stack and I never got around to changing it before I left. Good thing I’m going back.

This trip is unique in that I have the most freedom in my travels and route. No flights are booked, and trains and boats will be the transportation of choice. I head to Tokyo tomorrow night, then to Osaka by night bus. I’ll spend one day and night in Osaka, then catch the Tuesday ferry to Shanghai.

The best advice I can give to get the most out of your travels is to call ahead and get some recommendations from the locals.  I’m lucky that I have friends all over the place to give me the inside scoop on hot deals and events going on around town. 

My experience in Osaka was improved greatly by a simple phone call.  A friend who lives in Osaka made me a perfect day itinerary for the bustling western hub of Japan, Osaka.

I arrived early on the night bus and headed straight to Namba, the southern downtown district to buy Sumo tickets.  There are six Sumo tournaments a year; three in Tokyo, one in Fukuoka, one in Nagoya, and one in Osaka in March.  Combined with other hot deals around town, and the improving Spring weather, this month makes a perfect time to visit.

Cheap Sumo tickets can be purchased the day of the tournament from 2,000yen.  Once I had my ticket it was off to Spa World, the world’s largest public bath.  This massive building sits right beside the amusement park Festival Gate near both Dobutsuen-mae and Shin Imamura stations.  There March campaign slashes entrance price to 1,000yen, a bargain for this amazing experience.  This is the mecca for Onsen/hot spring connoseurs.  There are two floors, one European themed, the other Asian.  Each month the men and women swap floors.  I lucked out and got to check out the Asian floor that includes Persian baths with salt room, Japanese baths and sauna, Malysian baths, and a variety of steam rooms.  After sitting in a tiny seat all night this was exactly what I needed.

Around Spa World is the run-down neighborhood of Shinsekai, literally “new world”.  Before the war this neighborhood was considered the next big thing, proof of Japan’s industrial success and world prominence.  The rebuilt Tsutenkaku tower is visible from all angles of this area as you walk through the streets filled with cheap restaurants and bars.

After my preparation errands for China, I hopped back to Namba to catch the last hour of Sumo when the Ozeki “champions” go at it.  If you decide to see Sumo in Osaka, don’t bother splurging for the good seats.  The prefectural gymnasium that houses the tournament doesn’t have a bad seat in the house.  I was expected nosebleed seats and was pleasantly surprised to see the action quite well.

I spent the evening with friends in Dotomburi before retiring to my internet cafe booth (only 1,960yen).  Next stop Shanghai.

Leaving Japan by ship is a beautiful experience.  From Osaka the ferry heads west into the inland sea passing under the Akashi Kaikyo bridge, the world’s largest.  From there you just follow the sinking sun.

 

There are hardly any people on the boat.  I’ve made buddies with the two young Japanese guys in my room and a Russian guy named Alex.  I’m exhausted from my smoky night in the internet cafe and sleep most of the afternoon away.  There is a Korean guy who’s lived in Japan his entire life, but makes sure everyone is clear about his citizenship.

There are hardly any people on the boat.  I’ve made buddies with the two young Japanese guys in my room and a Russian guy named Alex.  I’m exhausted from my smoky night in the internet cafe and sleep most of the afternoon away.  There is a Korean guy who’s lived in Japan his entire life, but makes sure everyone is clear about his citizenship.”My family was taken to Japan by force by the Japanese Imperial army,” is how he introduced himself.  I got it.  He obviously doesn’t hang out with the Japanese crowd and sticks close by a Tawainese man who has been constantly drunk since the minute he climbed aboard. 

On the first morning I wake up in time to see the crimson sun rising over the last visible bits of Kyushu.  I watched Japan fade out of sight and realized I was heading into open waters for the first time.  No visible land.

The day passes with ping-pong, cards, reading, and more cards at night.  I buddy up to a group of young girls who are all traveling to Shanghai solo.  They are all students and represent NE Asia being from Japan, Korea and China.  Alex, Ryu, Yoshi and I play cards with them until 3am. 

 

The trip takes two days but it feels like one.  On the second morning the ship is already charging down the Huangpu River past barges and cranes.  With the time change it’s about 8:30 when the massive skyline of Shanghai’s new Pudong district emerges from the morning mist.  This is an incredible way to enter this city.  

 

  

There are 26 million people living in Shanghai and it feels like it.  The city attacks you from every angle.  Scooters, bikes, taxis, buses, vender carts, and all the masses are all competing for the same limited street space and seemingly honking at me.  Shiny new skyscrapers dominate the skyline from every perspective.  One minute you’re walking by stately facades reminiscent of Europe or New York, then you’re in the run-down Chinese quarters where the street show never ends.  This is where the bartering spirit of the Chinese can be seen in full force.  I still can shake the feeling that Chinese are constantly furious at each other.  Simple conversations suddenly erupt into shouting with hands flying and veins pounding, then just as quickly switch back to smiles and pats on the thigh. 

Wandering the backstreets of Shanghai is amazing and the chance to see this lifestyle is nearly gone.  In the middle of old town there are new high-rise apartments and the outskirts of these old tenements are hollowed out shells of Shanghai’s past, some vacant and others already reduced to piles of bricks.  When riding the nearly completed loop line, Metro line 4, it seems every old neighborhood whizzing by is marked with 拆 (chai) for demolition.  It’s a bittersweet fate that these old neighborhoods with so much character and unique ways of life should fall victim to the wrecking ball, but without sewers or modern amenities, they are the economic casualties of modernization.   

There is no sleeping-in in Shanghai, at least not in my 2nd floor room.  At 7am the street parade is in full swing with food vendors, ringing bells, shouting store owners, and hundreds of cars honking there way through the congested madness.

I’ve found a local dumpling shop that suits me.  The owners are quick to remember my face and they make the biggest gyouza I’ve ever seen.  In general Shanghaiese are quite friendly and curious about foreigners.  Aside from the people selling watches or running some kind of scam, there are som many who approach you just to talk.  Many are tourists themselves out to see the big city, jumping at the chance to practice their English.  I think this will be the century of the Chinese tourist.

Yuyuan garden is in the heart of Shanghai’s Old Town just south of the Bund.  This amazing garden and the surrounding buildings have been restored and turned into a bustling shopping area, Yuyuan bazaar, full of stores and food vendors.  It’s absolutely packed during the week, so I can’t imagine what it’s like on the weekend.  In the future this area might be all that’s left to remind Shanghai of its Old Town heritage, a kitch mall complete with Starbucks and McDonald’s dressed up in the past. 

The garden is definately the highlight here.  As if the Classic Chinese garden architecture weren’t enjoyable enough, Yuyuan has huge craggy boulders dispersed throughout the grounds.  These clay-like boulders, some 15meters tall provide a natural counter balance to intricately designed halls and pavilions.  Quarried in nearby Zhejiang province to the south, they were transported to Shanghai in the 16th century where archetect Zhang Nan-yang created a diverse blend of tunnels, caves, a stone hills amid the buildings and koi ponds.

Don’t let the crowds discourage a lengthy stay in this beautiful setting.  The flag following tour groups come in waves, so make sure to catch a ten minute window of tranquility to soak up some zen.  I recommend at least two full walks through the garden.  A map isn’t provided so consult the one at the entrance a couple times to familiarized yourself with the grounds.  The exit is precariously located halfway through the garden so make sure you see everything before leaving.  In the quiet northeast corner there is a stone staircase leading up to Xuepu study.  From here you can peer over the wall and see the skyscrapers of Pudong.  At one time it was possible to see the boats floating down the Huangpu from here.  I got lost in my thoughts here and ended up napping for 45 minutes, just like the monks used to do I suppose.  This is one of Shanghai’s highlights.