I took the bullet train to Shanghai on Friday, picked up my newly minted passport, met up with some cool people from Couchsurfing.com (that I feel might one day overtake SG as the primary place I meet new people online) who helped me find some GoreTex Merrell Hiking Shoes from my upcoming trip in Spain.
I had dinner at a pretty great Turkish restaurant named Anadolu, chicken kebab & pide, a welcome restaurant respite, and discussing comics, travel, and cosplay. I like treating people to new experiences and it was her first Turkish food experience, and she dug it.
After that went back to my hotel where I was reduced to unplugged the phone so the prostitutes would stop calling (this has happened in every Chinese hotel I've stayed in so far) and watching Constantine. So far Constantine is the most watchable film I've seen on Chinese hotel TV, but boy it's pretty bad. Keanu for the lose.
Slept in, woke up and it was poring. Refusing on principle to buy the jacket-up right beside the subway exit umbrella prices I got soaked on my way to the Shanghai Art Museum. (I have a mild cold). Once inside - the entire museum, one of the most famous in Shanghai, was basically empty except for one terrible exhibit by a modern Chinese abstract painter. Imagine going to New York and them saying - "yeah we just have one room open at the Met today." It reminded me that I can't remember the last time I saw a new exhibit from a living artist that I actually liked and I imagined what kind of vitriolic art-rant or jaded seen so much of this shit before commentary it might inspire in ZakSmith. There was a woman who reminded me of Yoko Ono taking pictures of the art with her expat British husband.
Five minutes later I was taking refuge in a Starbucks (one of the few sitdown places in China where you can sit for extended intervals without someone bothering you), having a coffee, and reading Serve the People, a culinary memoir of sorts by a Chinese-heritage-American-born writer who'd returned to China. Pretty good. Blitzed through that (I'd already blazed through Paul Stamets' fascinating Mycelium Running - a stunning mycological manifesto come gameplan on the train) and picked up some tickets for the Shanghai Circus.
Met up with a friend to see the circus - pretty good, especially for the price. Saw a man spin a massive porcelin pot on his head like a basketball and a record-breaking (to my viewings eyes anyways) number of motorcycles simultaneously driving in an enclosed sphere. (8). Sushi to finish, crashed at my hotel, train in the morning and now I'm back at work.
I had dinner at a pretty great Turkish restaurant named Anadolu, chicken kebab & pide, a welcome restaurant respite, and discussing comics, travel, and cosplay. I like treating people to new experiences and it was her first Turkish food experience, and she dug it.
After that went back to my hotel where I was reduced to unplugged the phone so the prostitutes would stop calling (this has happened in every Chinese hotel I've stayed in so far) and watching Constantine. So far Constantine is the most watchable film I've seen on Chinese hotel TV, but boy it's pretty bad. Keanu for the lose.
Slept in, woke up and it was poring. Refusing on principle to buy the jacket-up right beside the subway exit umbrella prices I got soaked on my way to the Shanghai Art Museum. (I have a mild cold). Once inside - the entire museum, one of the most famous in Shanghai, was basically empty except for one terrible exhibit by a modern Chinese abstract painter. Imagine going to New York and them saying - "yeah we just have one room open at the Met today." It reminded me that I can't remember the last time I saw a new exhibit from a living artist that I actually liked and I imagined what kind of vitriolic art-rant or jaded seen so much of this shit before commentary it might inspire in ZakSmith. There was a woman who reminded me of Yoko Ono taking pictures of the art with her expat British husband.
Five minutes later I was taking refuge in a Starbucks (one of the few sitdown places in China where you can sit for extended intervals without someone bothering you), having a coffee, and reading Serve the People, a culinary memoir of sorts by a Chinese-heritage-American-born writer who'd returned to China. Pretty good. Blitzed through that (I'd already blazed through Paul Stamets' fascinating Mycelium Running - a stunning mycological manifesto come gameplan on the train) and picked up some tickets for the Shanghai Circus.
Met up with a friend to see the circus - pretty good, especially for the price. Saw a man spin a massive porcelin pot on his head like a basketball and a record-breaking (to my viewings eyes anyways) number of motorcycles simultaneously driving in an enclosed sphere. (8). Sushi to finish, crashed at my hotel, train in the morning and now I'm back at work.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
freakpirate:
As soon as I saw you'd replied to that thread I KNEW what was coming. And that will never get old.
overmeyers:
I agree, Constantine is terrible now that Ive gotten that formality out of the way, I secretlywell, between you me and anyone that reads thislove the shit out of that movie. Keanu is Keanu, but Tilda Swinton is wonderful!