Last night, we went out to the French Concession for upscale, super swanky Xinjiang food. We had amazingly light pan-fried pumpkin dumplings, delicate warm crepes filled with Chinese olives, chilli-fried green beans, mint and chickpea salad, roasted flatbread with sweet vinegar dip, chewy hand-pulled noodles, tall glasses of fresh pomegranate juice and bottles of black lager.  The meat-eaters at the table also had a rich beef and tomato stew, warm flatbreads stuffed with lamb, cheese and herbs, and braised duck.

Then, we headed to the Bund to gawk at the futuristic, colourfully-illuminated skyscrapers of Pudong. Next,we sipped outrageously decadent cocktails while snuggled into embroidered cushions on the comfy couches of a very elegant Yunnan-themed rooftop bar. The Kid, ever the sophisticate, had a watermelon and coriander margarita, then a pisco sour. (We were with our new Peruvian friend, which made Molly’s first taste of Peru’s national cocktail even more exciting.) I, ever the cartoonish galumph ordered the novelty drinks — a “paper bag” daiquiri and a pina colada served in a massive coconut with a little paper umbrella. Others at the table had very good whiskey sours, a caipirinha that wasn’t *quite* as good as the ones I make, but was still pretty good, a “zen-tea-ni” and a kind of Tennessee version of a cuba libre.

This morning was our first late, lazy morning since we left the U.K. — a much-needed rest after a whirlwind couple of weeks. Then, this afternoon, I got to talk philosophy with a Shanghai Peirce scholar and an American Wittgenstein scholar over a pot of the most delicious chrysanthemum tea.

Week one in Shanghai is done. It was great. Bring on week two.