Our third day consisted of an oxymoronical square round trip. We walked south from our hotel (still on the look-out for banks to solve our American Express dilemma) towards the markets. Our first market was the antiques. There was an array of old-looking toys and bric-a-brac. However the words of caution from the Lonely Planet that "some of these antiques may have been made yesterday" were bourne out as the identical antique toy car appeared in every other store. Interestingly the toy group included not only American WWII aircraft but also a german U-boat complete with swastika.

Next up was the appropriately named 'flower, fish and animal market'. If you ever need a live cricket, in a little cricket-sized box, then this is the place for you. There were also fish (boring), noisy birds (anyone going down a mine?) and 'others'. The others were the good bits - some form of aquatic lizard, frogs with pink translucent skin (actually remarkably similar to lolly red frogs) and boxes of things we were defintely not allowed to photograph. Delicious.

Following a brief dis-argument about the map we headed north to the Old Town. Along the way we passed something that hasn't been seen for many a year - an actual peg leg. Thigh, knee, then wood. Beyond the pirate we arrived at the old town. The Old Town is the preserved part of Shanghai representing the way the city used to look - even the parts that are still being built. But to be fair it was very picturesque, if not completely genuine (was there really a Dairy Queen at the centre of Ming Dynasty Shanghai?) and it was our first experience of proper Chinesey architecture. Our decision to come to the Old Town had meant that we were unikely to visit the French Concession area. However it became evident on walking around the Old Town the French were back, seemingly not only to reclaim the concession but to overrun any other touristic site in the province.

 
Whilst in the Old Town we luncheoned at the famous purveyor of Shanghai's famous food stuff - Xiao Long Bao (steamed dumplings) at Nanxiang Restaurant. Kathryn was very excited. Indeed the Qantas short documentary about Shangahi shown on the flight had Lockie Daddo lining up an hour and a half to sample some. And there was an impressive queue snaking away from the service window at the restaurant. However they are all idiots - you can eat inside after waiting about 15 mins. Which is what we did. And they were good. Better than any Din Tai Fung. And they were cheap. Meaty, soupy goodness in a thin wafer wrapper. They even have some chefs held captive in a box so you can see them work for you.

After lunch we took a turn around the Yuyuan Gardens. These were very pretty and filled with interesting rock formations and paving. Kathryn indulged in some photography taking a full 15 minutes to take one photo of Gavin on a Bridge. It had better end up in a gallery somehwere to make it worthwhile. Either from excitement of photgraphy or ingesting dumplings Kathyn developed hiccoughs (or hiccups, but I like hiccoughs). Now this may seem a benign, even boring, development but Kathryn's bouts of hiccoughs are prodigious. They go on for an hour or more and involve loud, unexpected whole-body convulsions that echoed around the serene gardens. Absolutely entertaining stuff. But this making Kathryn self concious combined with our fatigue and being now sick of the French prompted us to head back to the hotel. Again we travelled via banks to solve the American Express problem, this time with some success. However the only point worth making is the impressive level of English spoken at Chinese banks. Not to mention hotels, restaurants, etc. Well done China. We are full-out shithouse at your language, you do very well at ours.
After a hour or so of rest, and allowing time for Kathryn's Hiccoughs to abate, we headed out for an utterly unimpressive dinner at a Lonely Planet recommended chinese restaurant. The only good part was the amusing Chinglish menu including delicacies such as "beef that has been brought to temperature" and "boiling boiling soup". This was followed by a trip to a hostel bar overlooking the Bund riverside. This was also less than impressive as we were chaged $9 a beer (it's 80c in a convinence store) in a backpackers and this was supposed to be the 'affordable' option on the Bund. Just as well we said "stuff you" to the la-di-da bars and their god-knows-how-much drinks and retired to OK Karaoke at our hotel. Except we didn't. It wasn't at our hotel, it was the one next door. And it was closed. And Kathryn got the hiccoughs again. A couple of 80c beers from the Lawson store next door soothed our bitter tempers.