Shanghai and Sophia

The 12 hour flight was easier than expected with Stephen Fry's mellifluous tones from my iPod, and adding copious notes to my notes. I was also fascinated by a Chinese passenger opposite who could simultaneously watch an action movie on his screen and a Chinese game show on his laptop while shovelling down his lunch! He spilt quite a lot down his front, but, hey, I wasn't sitting next to him!

I was met at the airport by my interpreter Sophia, who is fantastic, steering me across roads while all cyclists career towards us from every angle, no lights, no hands, sometimes. Yesterday we found Tess Johnston's apartment in the old French concession. She worked for the US Embassy and stayed in Shanghai because she loves it. She is an archivist, collecting old books, newpapers etc from the foreign concessions. We spent an hour looking through old directories and books of photographs taken by her colleague Deke Erh. She told us to go to the Old China Hands reading room to read more and have coffee, which we did, listening to Bach on the stereo, and soaking up the quiet ambience.You can contact Tess at Old China Hand Research Service, Donghu Lu 70/30/201, Shanghai 200031, China.

I hope to post some photos of the area, and of Canada in a minute, but don't hold your collective breath as this task might be a technological wonder beyond my grasp.

We wandered around Shanghai in the early evenings until I got Train Legs again.

Today we had an early start, and we are off to Suzhou later for 3 nights and two whole days trying to find the old palace my grandmother said was the consulate, and their first posting as a married couple, with my grandfather becoming Acting Consul there. This is such an adventure because I don't know what we will find, if anything.

My blogs are blocked and so emailing is my only way of keeping in contact. We don't know if I'll be able to from WuHu, the next stopover, as it's so small it might not have internet connections in the hotel. So that's another reason not to hold your breath!After the reading room we were walking down the street and I was admiring the trees forming a tunnel overhead and had just said it reminded me of a French street when we saw a patisserie with a menu for the adjoining restaurant. A Chinese and his Japanese colleague opened it a month ago; their second one in the city. We had an authentic French meal served by the Japanese owner, who was taught useful French phrases by an Englishwoman (me!). He had loved French cooking when he lived in Vancouver and spent 10 years learning about it, baking his own bread and making petit fours and grinding his coffe beans. It was so good to spend time with someone so happy in his work.