So, I just got back from Shanghai, and man, where do I even start? I always thought travel would effortlessly fill me with wonder and excitement, but honestly? A part of me felt kinda lost when I first stepped off that plane. I mean, I'd studied the best things to do in Shanghai for weeks, but that rush of uncertainty hit me like a brick wall as soon as I saw the sprawling city skyline. It felt surreal, and a bit overwhelming, which is saying something for someone who usually embraces the chaos of travel.
This spot? Total surprise.
I found myself wandering around the Yu Garden area on my first full day. I didn't plan to go, but after a failed attempt to find a café that had been “all the rage” on Instagram, I ended up there. At first glance, Yu Garden felt like a tourist trap; I was already in the mood to roll my eyes at yet another crowded, overpriced spot. But then I just wandered deeper.
The moment I stepped past the loud shops and into the actual garden, everything shifted. The intricately carved rocks and the delicate bridges caught me off guard. It was like stepping back in time, with a vibe that felt peaceful amid the busyness. I found my way to this quaint tea house, and I ended up having some jasmine tea that smelled like it was harvested just seconds ago. Seriously, you could taste the flowers. I just sat there, listening to the gentle clattering of tea cups and the whispers of the trees.
I hadn't planned to feel so at home in a bustling city, but there I was, vibing with the layers of history and the faint sounds pulling me into a deeper connection with the land. Who knew a place was hiding right under my nose all along?
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
Then came the afternoon I'll never forget. It was one of those days where clouds hung heavy, and I really contemplated just curling up in my hotel. But I made myself venture out, because, ya know, “What are the best things to do in Shanghai?” So, I zigzagged through the French Concession, because everything I read said this was the pulse of cool in the city.
Stumbling upon a tiny café, I can't even remember the name of it, I sat down at a rickety table with mismatched chairs and sipped on what was probably the best coffee I've ever had. There was this random playlist playing that felt like the soundtrack to my wanders— a mix of jazz and contemporary tunes that made the air feel lighter.
In that moment, I struck up a conversation with the barista, a lively woman with pink hair who had a contagious laugh. Her stories about this hidden life in Shanghai made me feel so much more connected to the vibe of the city. Who knew two strangers could bond over coffee and the quirks of city life?
We talked about everything from street food to her favorite spots in the city—none of which came up in any travel blog. It was seriously one of those moments where you think, “Yeah, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be right now.” I walked out with a lightness in my heart, feeling like I could take on anything, even rethinking everything I thought I knew about traveling!
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
Of course, I'm not immune to the snafus that come from my terrible sense of direction. I had entered the trip with that good old confidence, thinking I could navigate the metro. Spoiler alert: I can't. One night, I decided to go check out The Bund. You know, that iconic riverside area everyone raves about? Well, I hopped on the subway with a specific station in mind. There I was, ready to take some Insta-worthy photos of the skyline.
But somehow, I got off at the wrong place. Instead of panicking, I just started walking. I meandered down some side streets, where I stumbled into this local dumpling joint that looked SO unremarkable from the outside but was a total gem. I ordered a steaming basket of xiaolongbao, and let me tell you, they were phenomenal—liquid-smoky for days.
It was one of those instances where I thought, “Thank goodness for terrible navigation!” Instead of the usual tourist crowd, I got to experience Shanghai in a more authentic light, connecting with locals over shared meals. If I'd followed the map exactly, I would've missed out on that unexpected feast.
Lessons learned over bowls of noodles
And hey, I even made some mistakes that turned into little learning moments. Like that time I thought I'd be ‘cool' and tried ordering dinner in Mandarin. It was epic failure, let me tell you. I ended up with a dish I didn't recognize, and I had a mini existential crisis when my brain couldn't match the words to the food in front of me.
But as I sat there, chopsticks in hand, I ended up laughing it off. I mean, I figured it couldn't be that bad. Turns out it was a noodle dish that I later found out was a rare local specialty. Who would've known? Nothing was going according to plan, yet it felt like everything was falling into place.
Finding joy in the mess
I left Shanghai with a mix of thoughts swirling in my head. I don't know if it was the city or just the pace of life there, but it felt like I was a part of something much larger—a beautiful chaos, if you will. It didn't all go according to plan, yet some of those surprises turned out to be the best moments. Those unexpected conversations over coffee, the lost strolls that led to incredible dumplings, and even the hilariously awkward dinner mishap made me realize that sometimes, travel isn't about ticking boxes but rather about embracing that beautiful uncertainty.
So, I can't sum it all up neatly or reduce it to a single takeaway. But honestly, isn't that what makes it all the more human? Just soaking in the experience, broader and messier than anything a polished guide can present— one coffee at a time.
