Shanghai - once and never again.

3:55 am in Shanghai. We set foot on Chinese soil for 18 hours. In the last 18 hours, we flew from home to Munich to Shanghai, 10.5 hours of which were spent in the air. Although Air China safely took us to our destination, the 2 hours of sleep and the inedible food robbed us of some nerves. But our destination is not our bed, it's Shanghai. Another language, writing system, currency, culture, and many curious looks. The "everything is okay" message to mom and dad is sent via SMS to Germany, as neither WhatsApp nor Facebook are allowed. Even the Wi-Fi doesn't connect with foreign smartphones. Amazing country.
After the nice lady with the "I speak English" button on her shirt tried to sell us the Burger King Whopper as veggie, it was clear that we wouldn't get far with English today.
Our only clue was "Maglev," a maglev train, and "The Bund," from where you can see the famous skyline of Shanghai. Maglev was easy to find from the airport and shortly afterwards we were racing towards the city at 430 km/h in 8 minutes.
We shot out of the fancy airport, over devastated houses and settlements, over the poverty of the metropolis, and back into the beautiful world of Shanghai.
After the adrenaline rush, all we had to do was take the metro a few stops to the city center. We were supposed to buy tickets "downstairs," where even our line was written. Unfortunately, the Chinese metro personnel didn't speak a word of English, and the maps and ticket machines were completely in Chinese. We were sent back again, then back to where we came from. No one knew where we had to go, neither the staff nor us. Just no one. There were only 1 million Chinese people bustling past us, talking on the phone, giving us sideways glances, laughing at us, sending us back and forth, and eventually we found ourselves back between the tracks, and there it was: the famous culture shock.

Culture shock and lack of sleep is a combination that breaks your neck.
All I wished for was a bed, darkness, silence. Should we laugh or cry? Should we keep trying or give up?
It seemed impossible to even get into the city. Whoever we asked just smiled and sent us downstairs at most. Eventually, when we approached her for the third time, an employee finally told us the station, and after an hour of struggle, we finally held the tickets for the damn metro in our hands. While reading the signs in the subway, suddenly an Asian voice spoke to us in English. We should have known, the station that had been sold to us was of course the wrong one. At least the young man, and the only person in China I met who was able to speak a little English, could tell us the right station and even took us there.
We ended up at "The Bund," after passing through the main road filled with shopping palaces and bargain stores, where a fascinating view awaited us.

The day was dull and cool, we were tired and exhausted.
For the sake of authenticity, we went in search of sushi and headed back to the airport.

In retrospect, my conclusion about Shanghai and my first time in China is quite disappointing. The city seemed to me like a bad puzzle of flashy technology, poverty, and the cliché image of China, so much for the selfie stick. The people had no smile for us, and there was no trace of Asian flair.
Hence, we preferred to sleep deeply and soundly on the hard benches of the airport, eat, and pass the time until the departure by finding vegetarian food for Lisa. By the way, Lisa almost went empty-handed that evening. Eventually, it was midnight and we continued to Bangkok. A new day, a new country. Shanghai, once and never again.

Fun fact: I have a 20-hour layover in Beijing on the way back.