shang'hai, v.
Nautical slang (orig. U.S.). To drug or otherwise render insensible, and ship on board a vessel wanting hands.
Monday November 27th
Started badly - though not as badly as the definition above - with 2 lots of road works on the M56 which put the finishing touches on failing to catch the 10 o’clock shuttle to Heathrow, prudently booked by Mark the travel agent to ensure the main flight was caught.
The presence of armed police plus huge queues meant that the next shuttle wasn’t necessarily an option either but luckily persistence won through and I was grumpily allowed on by British Midland.
Heathrow saw me running between terminals, jettisoning water and stuffing cosmetics into the regulation plastic bag as I went. Security was something out of a refugee camp; babies crying, women weeping, a Hansel and Gretel line of discarded items all along the queuing system.
Finally boarded having had NO TIME AT ALL for shopping and was horrified to find my companion for the journey was a large, sweaty male. Thankfully the plane was half empty and he soon moved out.
A movie fest followed with a choice of European or Chinese food plus copious quantities of Jasmine tea.
Tuesday, November 28th
Staggering out of the plane some 11 hours later I met up with a colleague from FFB who introduced me to one of my fellow exhibitors (Karen) with whom I was instructed to share a taxi.
First problem was what do they look like? A nice young man met us as we stood dithering on the road, took our cases and promised us a comfortable journey. Increasingly worried we followed him through car parks and up and down lifts until we got into what appeared to be an official car.
Half way through the journey we were given a bill that even the driver thought was a bit steep but what’s a girl to do? We paid.
Hotel Sofitel Jing Jang welcomed us with not exactly open arms but we were expected; at least I was, the evening before, and my colleague (fast becoming a friend- amazing what adversity does for you) was too, it was just unfortunate her credit card wasn’t. I paid for her too, thanks Nat West.
We agreed to meet half an hour later for lunch and a spot of sight seeing.
Much hilarity in the taxi when we proffered a card asking to be taken to somewhere- not quite sure where but we were sure it would be fun. As indeed it was; first a thoroughly Western shopping mall was swiftly rejected in favour of tiny streets selling pearls, jade and a lot of fake handbags and watches.
Lunch was challenging- I did my animal impersonations to find out what was inside the dim sum but to no avail. Mind you I didn’t try barking….The highlight was a drink which was served in a dimpled pint beer mug. It looked like water filled with peas and topped with mashed potato and was dispensed by a young woman pushing a trolley and wearing a fetching purple uniform. Not surprisingly there were no takers.
The oddest thing about Shanghai is the lack of anything living there apart from humans. No birds, animals or pets, not even very many trees apart from plastic Christmas ones. The architecture is amazing with buildings going up 24 hours a day, each public building trying to be different and better than the last. The latest hotel to open had what looked like rugby posts on its roof along which electricity flickered like lightening at night.
Back in the hotel I prepared myself for the next day knowing I had to get up at 6.30am and that with an 8 hour time difference and no sleep in the previous 24 hours. Then I hit the Bund for an informal meal with fellow exhibitors and show organisers before crawling into bed at 10.
Wednesday November 29th
Started with a bang. The telephone woke me out of a deep sleep at 7.30 courtesy of Kelly of FFB as the hotel alarm had failed to go off.
20 minutes later I was hailing a taxi for the St Regis where we were to ‘meet the buyer’ and have some presentations on the Chinese market.
Next was a store tour; highlights included seeing Llanllyr water and having my very own ‘tackiest Christmas decoration’ competition. I bought the winner in Wal-Mart- a Christmas star and Father Christmas combo on- a- stick. What I didn’t buy was a pack of evil looking sea food including dried scorpion fish, seahorses, pipefish, snakeskin and starfish to soak in wine and drink for their restorative properties. Neither did I buy any of the live toads or terrapins, nor the fish lying on slabs of ice that I have paid good money to snorkel with in other parts of the world.
Lunch was (more) dim sum and various odd rubbery things washed down by Coca Cola and then back to the hotel for the main event- meeting real live buyers.
I can honestly say this was the strangest selling activity so far in my career. It consisted of linking up with a supercilious interpreter who pushed a room service style trolley laden with my sea salts in their packaging, plus tasting glasses and samples.
Each buyer was sitting in the semi darkness of their bedroom having just sated themselves with Kentucky fried chicken.
As each company delivered their pitch and left, the samples began to build up- a plate of broken Weetabix here, a pool of golden syrup there. All buyers looked amazed to be offered sea salt despite the fact that the company name on the timetable should have given them a clue.
From the hotel to the exhibition centre where we set up our stands and then put everything away again having heard how light fingered some of the visitors were likely to be. I met Doris my wonderful interpreter, who requested some company literature to read overnight- truly a first amongst any of my staff!
Back to the hotel where Karen and I decided we needed to do some shopping and eating to keep the momentum flowing and ourselves awake.
A taxi ride later we found ourselves at a metro station with the usual minder waiting for us. He carefully guided us downstairs to a shopping mall where the shops had normal fronts but false walls, which slid open to reveal rooms stacked with counterfeit goods. Only subsequently did we learn we should not have been there on our own after dark.
To add to our recklessness we took a taxi and asked the driver to take us somewhere to eat. He dropped us off at a random hotel and the doorman greeted us with incredulity. A pleasant meal later, avoiding the much publicised ‘hairy crabs’ (surely a disease rather than a menu item?) we got another taxi back to our hotel.
Thursday November 30th
By saying ‘hola’ very confidently I managed to blag my way onto a Spanish bus outside the hotel and got a free trip to the show. During the journey I was asked by a very pleasant Spaniard what I was doing. Was I selling black pudding he wanted to know? Could be an idea for our next sea salt flavour I suppose.
The show opened not with the usual announcement over the tannoy but with a troupe of drummers and a Chinese dragon which wended its way through the aisles, bringing luck and frightening away the ghosts.
The exhibition was busy and much enlivened by the fact that anything that could be stolen was. It was further complicated by the fact that Doris was so mortified every time it happened that it had to be prevented at all costs. However, her feelings went slightly by the board when not only tubes of salt but even the stapler disappeared.
Lunch choice was dry Weetabix, an equally dry roll or ‘authentic Chinese cuisine’; we went for the latter- a mistake as it turned out as the spicy pork and rice also contained weevils……
That evening was a formal dinner in the Shangri La with the buyers we had last seen in their bedrooms.
Feeling a little off colour after the weevils I stuck to tried and tested dishes and avoided the rice. One mystery was solved: why was so little wine poured into the glasses by the waiting staff? The Chinese have a custom called Gan bei where guests take it in turns to raise their glasses and knock back what is in them, showing that they are empty at the end of each round. After a few goes of this I was profoundly grateful that the glasses contained so little to begin with.
Off to see the fireworks over the river from the second tower in the Shangri La which took us to a very cool bar with fabulous views over the city. Rather sweetly all the main lights are switched off at 11 when the river boats carrying giant 30 foot video advertising screens also shut up shop.
I fell into conversation with Tim Standbrook our UK Trade and Investment man in Shanghai, only to be momentarily distracted by the fact that the unisex loo opened straight out onto the bar area in a wildly exhibitionist way.
Friday December 1st
The show was busy with mainly chefs coming to see the different sea salts and enthusing about their textures and tastes. Some had already used it in other parts of the world, all wanted to know where to find it in Shanghai. We needed to find a distributor/importer as a first step and I walked the show looking at likely ones who might wish to take us onto their product lists.
That evening we were guests at an Italian restaurant which was difficult to find but well worth it once we did. Our taxi driver didn’t understand any English, written or spoken and kept stopping the car and sucking his teeth in an ‘I really don’t know where I am’ kind of way. So one of our fellow guests, a German living and working in Shanghai, talked him through the high rise towers on my mobile to arrive a mere half an hour late.
Some of our exhibition colleagues had had dinner in the hotel restaurant and amused themselves with the menu which offered camel hump and ‘private male body parts’ presumably served in pairs.
Saturday December 2nd
A lot to fit in to this day- last minute meetings with possible customers at the show, a trip out to buy a present for Doris who had presented me with some orange tea and a coin purse, a visit to the stores of our potential distributor and a tea buying session in the hotel shop.
Missions successfully completed: Doris was presented with a quartz bracelet, Clarence Grosdidier of Cheese and Fizz showed us his delightful stores, beautifully lit, slate floors and wooden shelving selling a wonderful selection of wines, chocolates and cheeses, and most of the Lea-Wilson family would receive tea for Christmas after a highly successful selling job was done on us.
Panicked trying to fit all my purchases into my suitcase so decided to leave it until later- perhaps I would have an early night deciding what to take and what to throw away, or alternatively I could just sit on it in the morning.
Out to a fabulous Thai restaurant with new friends from Tate and Lyle, then onto the world’s highest bar- Cloud Nine in the Hyatt on the 79th floor. It felt like a very tall fish and chip shop being as it was, built of stainless steel and glass.
Thank goodness the alarm went off ok at 6am on December 3rd
Up, washed, dressed, packed, and downstairs waiting for a taxi- considerably cheaper this time- to the airport.
Last minute shopping passed the time quite pleasurably until the flight was delayed a further hour. Finally boarded nearly 2 hours late and was once again lucky enough to have two seats to myself.
The delay at the airport meant that I missed the shuttle but did gain the company of a slightly odd Chinese lady who asked in broken English if she could follow me through Heathrow as it was her first trip outside China.
High winds meant that the shuttles were also delayed but we eventually boarded the last one of the night, collected our luggage and said goodbye, me to travel home with a very patient David and she to meet her son an ex shanghais now living in Bolton.