I spend 48 hours in China’s largest city.

When I moved back to Hong Kong, I promised myself I would visit more of mainland China. You see, I had every intention of exploring every corner of the world’s second largest economy, but the pull of Southeast Asia proved too strong. Instead of flying to Xian to see the Terracotta Warriors or making the trek to Harbin to see the ice festival in all its frigid glory, I jetted off to tropical, more “exotic-sounding” places like Bali and Thailand, where I lay on the beach and ate fragrant foods cooked in banana leaves and coconut milk (taking a look at my pictures, can you really blame me?). As a result, I left Hong Kong after my first go-round with a passport practically devoid of China stamps.

Making good on my promise, I booked myself a ticket to Shanghai and subsequently spent a weekend there last month. A teacher friend of mine who lives there graciously offered to host me, and my sister , who lives just up the road in Wuxi, told me she would come down and hang out. I was excited since it had been ages since I had seen either one: the last time I had seen my friend was when I was finishing up my Master’s degree in the U.S. over two years ago, and Ms. Jeannie and I hadn’t crossed paths since epically running with the bulls in Spain then touring Paris together in the summer of 2011. The thought of more international exploits with my fun, fearless, continent-jumping female friends was a prospect that filled me with glee.

It was in this frame of mind that one Friday after work I jumped on a Spring Airlines direct flight to Shanghai’s Pudong airport. It should be noted that Spring, one of China’s budget airlines, is not particularly for the faint at heart. Think tight, non-reclining seats à la Ryan Air (thankfully without the incessant advertisements and lottery sales), bumpy landings, no entertainment, free snacks, or beverages, and loud conversations in Chinese magnified by the fact there are 120 people crammed in a space where perhaps only 80 should be. This is budget with a capital ‘b’: if you’re looking for the bells and whistles native to a cushier airline, by all means book the Cathay flight to Shanghai — but expect to pay nearly double for an increased comfort level and unlimited cup noodles. At any rate, my flight, while uncomfortable, passed mostly without incident, and a little over two hours after boarding I disembarked in Shanghai.

So, how did I like the city? Well, firstly, I must admit that I spent more time catching up with friends than I did truly sightseeing — my exploration of the city was a cursory at best. Adopting the slow travel, “no-need-to-see-it-all” mentality I employed on my recent trip to Copenhagen, I spent two unhurried days strolling around and taking in a touristic sight or two. I didn’t stray far from my base in the leafy former French Concession, but did manage to get to must-sees like The Bund and Tian Zi Fang market.

In comparison to hilly Hong Kong, Shanghai felt wide and flat. The snakey, tight alleyways that I’ve become accustomed to in HK were replaced by the massive, tree-lined avenues of Shanghai. In fact, everything felt bigger in general, which was exhilarating but also made me feel out of sorts. I felt very much like a goldfish who left its fishbowl home and suddenly found itself swimming in the Atlantic. Another shock to the system was the amount of locals zooming up and down Shanghai streets and pathways on bicycles — in Hong Kong it would seem the only people on two wheels are semi-professional cyclists (mostly expats), and even they are a rarity.

With all that said, I dug the city. It felt dynamic and cosmopolitan, but still distinctly Chinese if that makes any sense. But enough with words. Here is some more photographic evidence of my exploits:

A gentleman sorting something that looks curiously like the rope you use to make mops

 Just one of the many, many maple leaf trees lining the streets of the French Concession — reminded me of Canada!

Lauren Pope