I am starving and that place sells food

One thing has become clear: the Expo has brought a lot of tourists to Shanghai (mostly domestic Chinese tourists). And with all those visitors, many of the tourist logistics are trickier than they would normally be. So, for example, we were planning to leave Shanghai for Beijing on Sunday night, but encountered a fully booked train. We pushed back to Monday night.

Another example has been with hotels. Our first place was secured for two nights, as we didn't know how long we would stay here nor if it was the right kind of place for us. Well, it was good enough. So when we went to extend it, we got some sad news: all booked for that night. Some quick work on the phones and internet and all close hotels were similarly full up.

This is a (perhaps long) way of saying that we found ourselves going to the Pudong side of Shanghai. It is very new, with wide boulevards, high rises, and very little apparent culture. Indeed, very little pedestrian activity. As shorthand, we called it Pu Jersey (with the Puxi side of Shanghai serving as Manhattan in this analogy). And the Motel 168 on Pudong Nan Lu was our home.

Well, with the morning twittered away with travel logistics, we were famished. We walked down Pudong Nan Lu until we saw the first sign of food, and we headed in. Tables were communal, and a couple of guys were finishing up when we sat down. The menu landed in front of us, a sea of Chinese characters. Luckily, there were some pictures on the outside of the restaurant, so Max escorted our waiter out there and picked some food.

One dish was cold and spicy noodles with bean sprouts. The noodles were fairly large, and the bean sprouts were tender. Oh, and the plate was lathered in chili oil. When the dish was done, there was a pool of spicy chili oil just laying there, waiting for another victim. My mouth was on fire.

The second served as a nice counterpoint, it being a meatball, tofu, and noodle soup. The broth had a nearly overwhelming essence of meatball, almost to he point of unpleasantness. But the ingredients within the soup were all individually very nice to eat.

Perhaps the best moment came when we asked for the check. The cashier said a number, which we didn't understand but guessed that it was forty-something yuan. We scoured our books, but found no quarter. Finally, we asked her to write it on the chopstick wrapper: 13 yuan, or less than $2USD for a completely filling and highly satisfying meal. Excellent.