Today’s West Nanjing Road, formerly known as Bubbling Well Road. It was the heart of Shanghai’s glamour and glitz. This part of the street could have been somewhere in Manhattan, New York.

In the beginning, there was only the British Concession – or the British settlement, as it was known in 1842, when, under the auspices of the Treaty of Nanking, Shanghai was established as a Treaty Port. The settlement was built on the banks of the Whangpoo River, where it joins the Suzhou Creek.

In 1844, the Americans came, and established their Concession to the North and East of the Suzhou Creek, along the banks of the Whangpoo River in what is known as the Hongqiao District today.

Finally, in 1849, the French came and established their own Concession, just south of the British, with a narrow strip of waterfront which flanked the Old Chinese Walled City.

In 1863, the British and American concessions merged to form the International Settlement, opening itself up to traders and merchants from all European powers, including the Danes, the Germans and the Swedes.  The French, however, remained aloof, and retained their Concession all the way till World War II.

Besides the Shanghai Bund, the second most important thoroughfare in the International Settlement was Nanking Road – the Settlement’s High Street, so to speak; its commercial and shopping street.  Everywhere the British went in China, they would establish these High Streets; but none were as famous as Nanking Road.

Today’s Nanjing Road consists of two sections.  The first is East Nanjing Road, which was Nanking Road proper in the Concession-era and extended all the way to the Cathay Hotel on the Bund.  Today a large stretch of it has become a pedestrianised shopping strip; and on this stretch may still be found many of the colonial-era department store buildings.

The second section, West Nanjing Road, was the former, very famous Bubbling Well Road, home to Shanghai’s glamourous, international social scene.  The Shanghai racecourse was here, as well as its most glitzy theatres, and most luxurious hotels and residences. Bubbling Well Road extended west to Jing An Temple, at the edge of the International Settlement.

In this photo-tour, we head east from Jingan Temple through the former Bubbling Well Road, on to the pedestrianised shopping strip that is today’s East Nanjing Road. We take a quick wander around the streets just behind the Bund – these streets are also home to a dizzying array of former bank and merchant house headquarters – before ending off at the Cathay Hotel.

Incidentally, alongside the Cathay Hotel, all of Shanghai’s famous Concession-era hotels, still operating as hotels today, also feature on this walk.

Bubbling Well Road

The eastern end of today’s Nanjing Road takes one through an area that was largely residential in the Concession-era, but today plays host to major malls and commercial offices.

Jing An Temple was first established in 241 A.D. and a temple has stood here ever since. It marks the western end of Bubbling Well Road.

The Hall of Sino-Soviet Friendship was built in 1955 to commemorate the strong friendship between China and the former Soviet Union. Today it is the Shanghai Exhibition Centre.

Eddington House is an art deco apartment complex in the Jingan Temple Area. It was built in 1935 and is famous for housing the apartment of Shanghai’s foremost author, Eileen Chang 張愛玲.

In the vicinity sits an interesting, almost Dickensian villa.

Paramount Theatre, builtin in 1933 by wealthy Chinese businessman Gu Liancheng, marks the start of Shanghai’s centre of glamour and glitz along Bubbling Well Road.

The former Race Club building, established in 1933 (Spence Robinson & Partners), now sits forlorn, at the corner of People’s Square. The Square was formerly Shanghai’s Racecourse.

The Grand Theatre was designed by Ladislav Hudec in an Art Deco style and opened in 1933. Today, it is a cinema.

Just across the street sits the famous Park Hotel, also designed by Ladislav Hudec in an Art Deco style and opened in 1934. It wouldn’t look out of place in Manhattan.

Next door sits the Foreign YMCA, designed by Elliott Hazzard in a Beaux-Arts style and opened in 1926. It houses the Shanghai Sports Club today.

The China United Assurance Apartments was a luxury apartment complex built in 1926, that was then transformed into the Pacific Hotel in 1940. It was also designed by Elliott Hazzard.

Nanking Road

As we head further East we reach the former High Street of the International Settlement – Nanking Road.  We pay a visit to each of the Four Big Departmental Stores established by Australian Chinese (all of Cantonese origin) in the inter-war years, and take in general views of the pedestrianised street.

The first of the Big Four was Sincere Department Store, opened in 1917 by an Australian Chinese Ma Ying Piew. The building was designed by Lester Johnson & Morris.

The second of the Big Four was Wing On Department Store, opened in 1918 by the Kwok Brothers. Designed by Palmer & Turner.

The third of the Big Four was Sun Sun Department Store, opened in 1923 by Liu Xiji and Li Minzhou. It was designed by CH Gouda.

The last of the Big Four was Sun Company Department Store, opened in 1936.

Hardoon Building, established in 1936.

Many of the other departmental stores from the Concession-era still stand. They come in an array of architectural styles, including this one, probably built in the 1930s due to its Art Deco style.

Almost like an Italian palazzo.

Another of-the-era mall

View of Nanjing Road Pedestrianised Shopping Street, with the Shimao International Plaza in the distance.

Behind the Bund

The Bund itself may have played host to some of the most magnificent bank and commercial buildings in the International Settlement, but these weren’t all.  Behind the Bund ran an orderly network of main streets that housed more bank offices, merchant houses, hotels and residences.   Many of these still remain today, and this wander through the streets provides a glimpse of some of them.

The China Mutual Life Insurance Company building was designed by Atkinson & Dallas and opened in 1910.

Caldbeck MacGregor House was designed by Palmer & Turner and opened in 1937.

The Mitsubishi Corporation offices were designed by Japanese architect Fukui and opened in 1914.

The American Club was designed by Ladislav Hudec and opened in 1925.

One of three buildings around Municipal Square with similar architecture. This one is the Commercial Bank of China, designed by Davies, Brooke & Gran and opened in 1936.

The second of the buildings is the famous Metropole Hotel, designed by Palmer & Turner and opened in 1934.

The third of the buildings is Hamilton House, designed by Palmer & Turner and opened in 1933.

Nanking Road today ends with a view of Pudong and the Oriental Pearl Tower. to the left is the famous Cathay Hotel; to the right, in the shadow, the equally famous Palace Hotel.

The Moriss Estate was built by Henry E Moriss Junior, in the style of a European country estate, in 1925. It is one of the major landmarks of the French Concession, and today houses the Ruijin Hotel.

The French Concession in Shanghai was established in 1849 – the final concession to be established in the city – and it lasted till 1946, one year after the surrender of the Japanese in the aftermath of World War II.

Then as today, the landscape of the French Concession was an idyllic one of gorgeous European-style villas set amidst sprawling estates, further set against a backdrop of verdant green parks, and wide boulevards lined with plane trees.

In short, it was a beautiful, languid, laidback, and very FRENCH sort of place.  And it still remains so today.

Unlike the British Concession, which stood out for its monumental tributes to EMPIRE, particularly along the Shanghai Bund; the French Concession was a far more subtle sort of place.  Most of the landmarks in the Concession today are residential – either former villa-style residences of important personages, or architecturally significant apartment blocks built in the boom-years of the 1920s and 1930s.

As such, it is far more difficult to visually capture in photographs, these significant landmarks in French Shanghai, particularly as since the time the French left, the plane trees and shrubbery have grown so lush as to largely obscure much of the facades of these buildings from the focused eye of the camera – though the intrepid wanderer is able to get glimpses that add up to the whole; and also because the Concession itself is so large, so spread out and so meander-y that it is hard to take in all that is important in one walk.

And so here with have an Impressionist’s view of the French Concession, which hopefully provides a sense of how it was and how it is today.

Incidentally, the Concession was also home to thousands of White Russians – including dukes, countesses and other nobles – that fled Russia during the Bolshevik Revolution, and set up home here.  Of course, their stay would prove ephemeral as Mao’s Red Guards once again sent them into exile in the late 1940s.  But they left their traces in the form of two jewel-like, perfectly formed Russian Orthodox Churches – which I feature here.

Finally, the other community that also made its (similarly transient) home here in Shanghai were the Jews, who fled Nazi Germany during World War II and established a presence in the Hongkew District of the American Concession.  They’re not part of the French Concession, but in spirit, they belong with their compatriots, the super-wealthy (European-) Jewish moguls, many of which belonged to Shanghai’s leading families in the day, and built mansions here in the French Concession.

The Xujiahui 徐家匯 Cathedral, built in 1910, stands at the very edge of the French Concession and is one of the few major landmarks of the Concession. It was recently restored, after having suffered major damage during the Cultural Revolution.

Beside the Cathedral is the Zikawei Biblioteca Major, or the Xujiahui Library. The French called Xujiahui, Zikawei, in accordance with the Shanghainese pronunciation of the place-name.

Xintiandi 新天地 is a spanking new lifestyle and entertainment precinct centred on a cluster of warehouses and traditional shikumens 石庫門 and lilongs 里弄.

Another view of Xintiandi, which was opened in 2001.

The main building of the Moriss Estate.

Another view of the Main Building of the Moriss Estate.

The former Cercle Sportif Francais, opened in 1926. today it is the lobby of the Okura Garden Hotel. The Cercle Sportif was the equivalent of the Cricket Club for the French.

Interior of the Cercle Sportif today.

The former residence of Edward Nissim, built in 1920. Nissim was the patriarch of a very wealthy Shanghai Jewish family. Today it forms part of the campus of the Shanghai Conservatory of Music.

Random Art Deco gateway in the French Concession.

The Cathay Theatre sat at the heart of the French Concession and was one of Shanghai’s first cinemas. It was designed by CH Gonda and built in 1932 in an Art Deco style. It is still a cinema today.

Diagonally across sits the Lyceum Theatre, designed by Davies, Brooke & Gran and opened in 1931.

The former Cathay Mansions was undersigned by Sir Victor Sassoon and designed by Palmer & Turner. Opened in 1925, it houses the Jinjiang Hotel today.

Xujiahui park was “reclaimed” from a former industrial estate that then became the centre of Shanghai’s recording industry (Pathe and EMI were separately here). The leafy, plane-tree-lined boulevard is typical of the French Concession.

The Villa Rouge, as it was called, was the headquarters of the French Pathé Company in Shanghai. It was built in 1921.

Across the street from the park sits the Hengshan Cinema, which was built in a stark Modernist Form in 1952 by the Communist Government.

The former residence of Shanghai’s foremost gangster, Du Yuesheng, built in 1932. Today it house the Mansion Hotel, a boutique hotel.

The former Residence of the Director of Industry during the French Concession Era, built in 1905. Today it houses the Shanghai Arts & Crafts Museum.

Stained glass window in the interior of the Residence.

The Picardie (1935) One of the many iconic apartment blocks in the French Concession, many of which are built in the art deco style (and fiendishly difficult to find).

View of houses along the street in the French Concession.

More views of houses along the street.

Apartment complexes along the street. All in all, a very pleasant, almost Japanese atmosphere prevails.

Interesting German-style villa in the French concession.

The St Nikolai Orthodox Church was built in 1934 to serve the religious needs of the White Russian community.

The Russian Orthodox Mission Church, built also in 1934, sits nearby.

The Ohel Moishe Synagogue is not in the French Concession at all, but sits in the Hongkew District in the American Concession. It was built in 1927 to serve the Orthodox Russian and German Jewish communities.

The Cathay Hotel, today’s Fairmont Peace Hotel.

The Cathay Hotel is a dream of a hotel.

An art deco mirage in concrete and cast iron, floating impossibly on the once-swampy banks of the Shanghai Bund – Britain’s city-monument to Imperial Might. The grande dame de jure of Shanghai’s hospitality scene, and where I put up on this stop of the Grand Tour.

It was built in 1932, during Shanghai’s heyday. The Great Depression in America had driven hundreds of wealthy Americans and Europeans, along with their vast reserves of wealth, to this Far Eastern capital, where they transformed Capital into Real Estate – millions of square feet of Art Deco real estate – and grew richer.

Injected with this money, and populated with increasing numbers of Art Deco buildings, Shanghai became a New York City of the East, and became equally fabled for its hedonistic lifestyle, as for its shady underworld of guns and triads.

The Cathay was commissioned by real estate mogul Sir Victor Sassoon, scion to a wealthy family of Baghdadi Jews who were of British nationality. The hotel wasn’t his only major property in Shanghai – he also built Cathay Mansions, Grosvenor House and Cathay Cinema in the French Concession, and Embankment Building by Suzhou Creek, amongst others.

After the Communist takeover, the hotel was re-opened in 1956 as the Peace Hotel, incorporating the former Cathay Hotel as the North Building, and the former Palace hotel, across the street as the South Building. By 1992, it had become one of the world’s most famous hotels.

In 2007, the hotel closed for a major restoration process by the Fairmont Group and re-opened in 2010 in its full glory as the Fairmont Peace Hotel. The Palace Hotel became the Swatch Art Peace Hotel.

This gallery provides a glimpse of the Fairmont Peace Hotel’s splendour.

The old cast iron entrance to the Hotel

The old River-side entrance lobby.

Mise en abime.

Art Deco detailing near the gift shop.

The Lounge

The new lobby.

The dome of the Fairmont Peace Hotel.

The ballroom.

The Bar – where Shanghai’s oldest jazz band plays.

The Cafe, situated right by the sidewalk.

The Chinese restaurant.

The Hotel Museum.

Lalique crystal light fixtures.

Stairwell.

The hotel’s signature design flourish is a pair of Art Deco greyhounds.

They recur all over the hotel, in the interior detailing…

And also on the exterior.

The main entrance to the hotel today sits on Nanjing Road.

Close-up of the Fairmont banner.

Close-up of the iconic cast iron roof.

View of the Shanghai Bund from the hotel’s rooftop bar.

View of the Palace Hotel from my room.

Nagasaki National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims

As is probably evident by now, I am fascinated by History and by Heritage, which are two different things, the former being a narration of a series of events regarded as significant by a person, a community or a nation, and taking place within a specific timeline; and the latter being a collection, or at least an acknowledgement, of traces of the past, whether tangible or intangible, that remain in the present.

If that seems like a mouthful to regurgitate, it’s because both History and Heritage are complex things. They pertain to the “essence” or the “soul” of a person, a community, or a nation; and “essences” or “souls” are not things that may be explained, or captured, in a single sentence.

But to return to the question I posed implicitly: why the fascination with History and Heritage? Or to keep it as simple as I can…why the fascination with the Past?

The first reason is that the contemplation of History and Heritage provides for an opportunity to revel in a sense of loss and melancholy. In today’s upbeat, Victoria’s Secret world, everything is perfect, everyone is happy, the average human being is a dynamic, aspirational creature, and humankind in general is constantly bettering itself. At least, that’s what we are fed, relentlessly, by the media.

Loss and melancholy are grossly under-rated. We don’t know how to express grief and sadness; we are embarrassed, in fact, by situations that require it. There is nothing like contemplating a ruined cathedral or palace, or, in my case this past week, contemplating the haunting National Peace Memorial Hall for the Atomic Bomb Victims in Nagasaki, to bring very starkly to mind a) the fact that we have lost the ability to appreciate loss; b) that loss and melancholy are very much an integral part of the human experience, without which we are no longer human; and c) that humankind isn’t always on a trajectory of self-betterment; sometimes we throw ourselves a curveball of monumental proportions. Quite literally, in the case of Nagasaki (and Hiroshima).

Loss needn’t always hold a negative connotation. It could describe longing for a past (perceived as) infinitely better than the present. I am describing the phenomenon of Nostalgia – the second reason for my fascination with the Past. Nostalgia is a form of Escape – a deluded conviction that things were better before than they are now; and an equally deluded attempt to try to re-capture, or re-live that illusory Time Past.

Deluding one’s self, however, can be a delightful experience. My Grand Tour of the Far East is, after all, an epic exercise in Nostalgia – a highly elaborate re-creation of a kind of lush, luxurious lifestyle I, being non-European, would have been systematically excluded from in those halcyon days (the 1900s – 1930s) I lovingly describe.

Whatever the intent, whether lamenting Loss or indulging Nostalgia, my fascination with the past ultimately stems from a recognition that it is important always to Remember. As our lives become more modern, more fast-paced and more concerned with the future, we have become increasingly become forgetful as a civilization and as a species. This is a worrying trend.

Remembrance affords us the opportunity to evaluate our past, building on our successes, and most importantly, learning from our mistakes. The risk we take, in constructing a modern society where the past has no place – where the dead have no place (cue: Bukit Brown in Singapore) – is that then we lose our ability to properly venerate death and the past; and in so doing, inevitably let slip respect and appreciation for life and/in the present.

Not remembering the past means not learning from our mistakes. It suggests – and what a horrifying thought this is! – the possibility that the events leading up to the incident memorialized in Nagasaki’s National Peace Memorial Hall may one day repeat themselves.

Surely a possibility if we don’t even remember anymore what all that sturm und drang was 70 years ago; and how it all came about in the first place.

Let’s not take History and Heritage lightly.

The Hankow Customs House (1922) marks the beginning of the Hankow Bund.

In considering the major colonial treaty port cities of China, Hankow 漢口is often forgotten.

Understandably so, as it simply isn’t as famous today as the likes of Shanghai, Tianjin and Xiamen. Also, Hankow itself is subsumed into the city of Wuhan 武漢 – actually a tri-city made up of the cities of Hankow, Wuchang 武昌 and Hanyang 漢陽.

But in its time, Hankow was a very important treaty port by virtue of it sitting, not on the East coast of China, as did the other treaty ports; but along the banks of the Yangtze River – the major artery for trade in tea, porcelain and silk. It was China’s most important inland riverine port.

It was also a relatively large city, with five foreign concessions, and a Hankow Bund that, at 4 km in expanse, was (and still is) double the length of the Shanghai Bund (about 2 km, including the French Concession’s waterfront)!

The Hankow Headquarters of the City Bank of New York (1921 – the forerunner to today’s Citibank), sitting on the British Bund.

The Banque de L’Indochine (1901) and the American Consulate (1905 – in the background) sit along the French Bund, and are amongst the oldest buildings in the Concession area.

The former Dazhimen Station (1903) was the terminus of the Beijing-Hankow Railway. It sits just to the north of the French Concession.

Plaques such as these are ubiquitous in the former Hankou area and mark out buildings of historical significance.

Hankow was part of a second wave of Treaty Ports established in 1860 in the aftermath of the first part of the Second Opium War, and by way of the Treaties of Tientsin signed between China and various European powers (which were subsequently included in a larger collection of treaties and agreements signed and ratified by the Chinese and broadly known as the Convention of Peking).

Under the auspices of the treaty, foreigners were allowed to establish Legations, or Embassies, in the Manchu capital of Peking 北京; foreign ships would be allowed to trade along the Yangtze River; and eleven more treaty ports were opened up to foreign trade.

These eleven treaty ports included Neuchwang 牛莊, Yantai 煙臺, Tainan 台南, Tamsui 淡水 (being two ports in Taiwan), Swatow 汕頭, Haikou 海口, Nanking 南京, Zhenjiang 鎮江, Hankow 漢口, Jiujiang 九江 (being four ports along the Yangtze River) and Tientsin 天津 itself.

Hankow was the innermost treaty port along the Yangze River, and the largest foreign settlement. It has five foreign concessions – British (the largest concession), Russian, French, German and Japanese – all of which had water-frontage.

Unlike in Shanghai, the Concessions proper were concentrated along a relatively narrow strip of land along the river, which extended back a mere 500-700 metres depending on which concession you were in.

Many of the Concession-era buildings are still in existence today, and not a few are being restored to their former glory. The concentration of buildings near or along the waterfront makes for a relatively easy exploration of Hankow; but be prepared – that Bund makes for one hell of a long walk.

By the 1920s, almost all the foreign concessions had been returned to the Chinese – the Germans in the aftermath of World War I in 1917; the Russians when the Bolsheviks took control of Russia in 1920; the British in 1929, when Sun Yat Sen’s Revolutionary forces – incidentally, initiated across the water in Wuchang – occupied the territory.

Hankow’s sister city, Wuchang dates back to the Han Dynasty (200 A.D.), and feature prominently in China’s long history.

Wuchang is known for the Yellow Crane Tower 黃鶴樓. First built in 223 A.D. and successfully rebuilt, it is one of China’s four great towers, featuring in Chinese literature across the ages.

The Memorial Hall of the Wuchang Uprising in 1911 Revolution 辛亥革命博物館 was built in 1910 by the Qing Government. The very next year, it became the epicentre of the 1911 Revolution that overthrew the Qing Dynasty.

This left only the French and Japanese Concessions, which remained till the end of World War II in 1946.

The early relinquishing of the concession by the British, French and Germans; and the ensuing isolation of the French Concession, is probably one reason why Hankow remains somewhat obscure today, except for history aficionados.

One can only hope that the comprehensive restoration of the city’s architectural heritage brings foreign / European visitors back to witness what they had put there in the first place.

In the meantime, everyday life ensues in the streets, alleys and around the many remaining buildings in the city; and along the Yangtze River waterfront, where an annual flooding of the low-lying riverside promenade creates a space for the people to gather, play and contemplate their past, present and future.

An old fisherman walks down the street hawking a live paddlefish from the Yangtze River.

Neighbours gossiping in front of a building in the Russian Concession.

A lady cycles past a building at the intersection of the Russian and French concessions.

Red brick villa in the Japanese Concession

Young girls walking down Jianghan Pedestrian Street in the British Concession – the city’s foremost shopping strip, then and now. It is the equivalent of Nanking Road in Shanghai.

View of the Yangtze River from my room at the Marco Polo Wuhan.

Locals playing in the flooded river-side promenade.

A young couple spending a moment alone.

A lone boat on the river in the early morning. 孤舟簑笠翁。。。

The Hankow Bund.

Aside from the Shanghai Bund, Wuhan probably possesses the best-preserved colonial-era Bund, or waterfront, in all of East Asia.  I refer to the Hankow Bund, which, at 4 km long, is twice the size of the Shanghai Bund; and, paying host to five different foreign concessions, has an amazing diversity of architectural styles.

The Hankow Bund hasn’t survived in its entirety, like its sister Bund in Shanghai has.  It is broken up in places by contemporary buildings; and the different Bunds have experienced different fates. The German and Japanese Bunds, for example, have almost all been destroyed or built over – and are a poor shadow of their former selves.  The British, Russian and French have fared better, though they too, remain only in patches.

But if you total all the historic buildings up, you will find that there are a comparable number of worthy, historic monuments as there are in Shanghai; and that itself is enough to make the Hankow Bund worth mentioning/visiting on this Grand Tour.

Here is a walking tour along the Bund, with the major historic monuments featured – and the occasional contemporary building. Bear in mind that documentation for the buildings on the Bund is poor, and almost all documentation, in the form of heritage plaques (many of which have been torn off by the private operators of these buildings), are in Chinese (and are themselves poorly researched).

The British Bund

The Hankow Customs House 江漢關 (1922).

The Nisshin Kissen Kaisha Building (1926).

The Yokohama Specie Bank (1917) being restored.

Bund # 140 – Renaissance style building.

Just next door…

The City Bank of New York (1921) was the forerunner of today’s Citibank.

The former Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank Corporation headquarters (1917).

Bund #144 (1900s).

REsidential apartments on the bund.

Asiatic Petroleum Company Building (1925)

A view of the British Bund.

Bund #153 – possibly the British Consulate.

The Russian Bund

Just next door…

Tokmakoff Molotkoff & Co (1921) – a tea manufacturer, also known as the Sun-Tai 新泰 Company.

A former Russian Bank and former home to Song Qingling (1896).

The heritage marker had been torn off this building, but I assume it must be the former Russian Consulate. Let’s hope it is not demolished.

Apartment buildings just next door…

The French Bund

The former American Consulate (1905)

The Banque de L’Indochine (1901).

One of two office or residential blocks next door…

The second, almost identical residential block.

The warehouse of a former bank (1901), once also the Hankow Hotel (1935).

Anonymous building next door.

The Municipal Government Assembly Hall (1954).

The German Bund

The former German Consulate.

Many of the original buildings on the German Bund have been converted to municipal offices, like this one.

More municipal offices.

A Chinese restaurant – the outline of the original German building is still visible.

Residential apartments.

Large block of offices.

The Japanese Bund

The Japanese Consulate (1913).

Detail of the Consulate.

The original villa is barely visible behind the new structure.

Kincheng Banking Corporation, British Concession

Behind the Hankow Bund lies a wealth of Concession-era architecture, surprisingly well-preserved and many still functioning as their (close-to-) original purpose.

As per the Bund, the documentation is poor and many of the buildings are not marked out; even if they were, the names of the buildings are in Chinese and it is almost impossible to make out what they may have been in their original languages.

The following provides a glimpse into the different architectural styles in the five former concession areas – the British, Russian, French, German and Japanese. There are simply too many buildings to photograph, and these images suggest the wealth of heritage still standing.

The Former British Concession

The British Concession area is the best preserved, with an amazing wealth of monumental, commercial and shophouse architecture.

Two major thoroughfares that one must walk down are Jianghan Road – equivalent to Nanking Road in Shanghai; and today’s Sun Yat Sen Road, which marks the western boundary of the British Concession.

Commercial architecture on Jianghan Road – Hankow’s shopping street.

The former Bank of Taiwan Building, Jianghan Road.

The former Shanghai Bank Hankow Branch Building, Jianghan Road.

The former Yokohama Specie Bank Building, Sun Yat Sen Road.

The former Bank of China (established by the Qing Dynasty), Sun Yat Sen Road.

Art Deco Bank Building, Jianghan Road.

Art Deco Bank Building, Sun Yat Sen Road.

Shophouse architecture along Sun Yat Sen Road.

Catholic Church on Shanghai Street.

British Concession area villas on the verge of being demolished.

The Former Russian Concession

The Russian Concession begins at the Hankow Orthodox Church – which was, unfortunately being renovated at the time of my visit. It is known for its squares, one of which features here.

Hankow Russian Orthodox Church, being restored.

Lutheran Missionary Home, around one of the Concession area’s famous squares.

The Huiluo Company (?), around the same square.

The Russian Concession Housing Search Agency, around the same square.

Bangke Gardens, around the same square. These apartments were built by and housed Hankow’s White Russian community.

Bagong Apartments.

Dent & Co offices, at the edge of the Russian Concession.

Apartment Blocks

Former residence of Zhan Tian You.

The Former French Concession

French Concession architecture is a little more elaborate than the British, but somewhat less monumental. Villas dominate. A key landmark is the YMCA Building.

The former YMCA Building.

Luojiabei Residences – French built residences for the Chinese.

The former Wuhua Hotel.

The former French Archives.

French commercial architecture.

The former Train Company offices.

Municipal Offices.

The Former German Concession

The German Concession was the first to be returned to the Chinese, and as such it has the least number of heritage buildings still remaining. That said, look closely, and one may still find the silhouette of a former villa, or even actual villas still standing, behind the commercial facades.

Former Bank Building.

Silhouette of German architectural forms…

German villa behind contemporary facade.

Another villa.

Villa.

The Former Japanese Concession

Finally, the Japanese Concession, like Japan itself, has a quaint, other-worldly atmosphere. Streets are lined with plane trees and pretty, almost-European storybook villas. The occasional traditional Japanese roof appears. Blink and you miss it.

Interestingly architectural form – possibly a former teahouse?

Japanese storybook villa.

Japanese storybook villa II.

Japanese municipal offices.

Note the Japanese-style roof. These are apartments today but perhaps they may have been a temple in the concession-era?

The Yellow Crane Tower (from 223 A.D., though this version was built in the 1900s).

Wuhan is a triple-city, consisting of the European Treaty Port of Hankow 漢口, the ancient Shu 蜀capital of Wuchang 武昌, and the industrial heartland of Hanyang 漢陽. While there is little to see in Hanyang, a trip across the Yangtze River to Wuchang is a must for anyone in Wuhan.

Wuchang dates back to 221 B.C. during the Eastern Han dynasty, and is one of the oldest cities in China. Before it was Wuchang, it was also the site of the capital of the Shu Kingdom; and evidence of the very eerie, alien and un-(Han)-Chinese Shu culture still exists in the city’s excellent Hubei Provincial Museum.

The most famous attraction in Wuchang, which has been a famous attraction since the Tang Dynasty, is Yellow Crane Tower. While the present tower was rebuilt in the Nationalist era, a Yellow Crane Tower has existed since 223 A.D. and was successively rebuilt with each new Chinese Dynasty.

Wuchang was also the epicentre of the Chinese Revolution. The Wuchang Uprising 武昌起義was the precursor to the Xinhai Revolution 辛亥革命 that toppled the Qing Dynasty. And the most significant landmark from the era is the former Hubei Military Government building, where the Republic of China was established on October 10, 1911. The building is in the Nationalist style – a mix of European and Chinese architectural elements.

Wuchang also plays host to a European residential area in today’s Tanhualin 曇華林District. It predates the establishment of the Treaty Port of Hankow, and was where Wuchang’s missionary establishments and consulates were situated prior to Hankow and even up until the Communist era. Today it has been restored and transformed into a pedestrian shopping street.

Finally, no visit to Wuchang would be complete without trying some typical Wuchan dishes – in particular Wuchang Fish 武昌魚 – steamed river bream from the region – which was one Chairman Mao’s favourite dishes. He wrote a famous line of poetry about it:

“才饮长沙水，又食武昌鱼。”

“I have just drunk the waters of Changsha, and eaten of Wuchang Bream.”

Close-up of the Tower.

View of the Tower towards its entrance, and the Yangtze River.

View of the small knoll that rises behind the tower.

View from the top floor.

The Wuchang Uprising Museum, the former Hubei Military Offices, where the Wuchang Uprising began.

Statue of Sun Yat Sen.

A play-acting Revolutionary Guard today.

Corridors

Auditorium

Rear Building

Side profile

The Hubei Provincial Museum.

Tan Hua Lin Visitor Centre.

Ren Ji Hospital, Tanhualin.

Former European residence in Tanhualin.

European residence, Tanhualin.

Former church, Tanhualin.

Streetscape, Tanhualin.

Ms Elizabeth Wood Cafe, Tanhualin.

The oldest Cathedral, Tanhualin

Three Treasures from the Lotus Lake 荷塘三寶 – a lightly stir-fried trio of lotus root, lotus seed and lotus seed cradle.

Trio of typical Wuchang dishes.

The famous steamed Wuchang bream. Being a river fish, it is very bony, and so the best part of the fish, ironically the least bony – as the friendly waitress explained – is its belly.

The Xuangong Hotel

Unlike the rest of the cities on this second Grand Tour, Hankou / Wuhan has no Grand Hotel; or at least, none of the same stature.  It does have two famous historic hotels, both of which were, unfortunately, no longer operational at the time of my visit.  Historical records related to either hotel are also very sparse.

Xuangong Hotel 璇宮飯店

View of the hotel in the precinct it stands

The Xuangong Hotel is situated just outside the British Concession, along today’s Jianghan Road, which was the main shopping street in its day.  According to Chinese records, it didn’t originate as a hotel, in fact, but was a luxury department store, erected in 1928.  By 1931, it had been turned into a hotel, and became THE hotel of the city.  Here it was in 1960, that Chairman Mao was served Wuchang Fish, and then quipped his famous saying “I just swam in the waters of Changsha, and then I ate Wuchang fish.”

The hotel is presently shuttered and on the verge of a major renovation that is due to return it to its former glory.  It stands, a beautiful Renaissance style building, amidst one of the busiest shopping intersections along the pedestrianised Jianghan Road.

Entrance to the hotel

Side view

Scaffolding

Hôtel Terminus

L’Hotel Terminus

The other famous hotel in the city is the Hôtel Terminus, in the French Concession.  As its name implies, it sat near the terminus of the Beijing Hankow Railway line, near to the Hankow Railway Station, which still exists as today’s Dazhimen Station.

The Hotel was possibly built at the turn of the 19th century.  It is a surreal Beaux-Arts vision that stands across from the Railway Office Building.  Today, the Jianghan Hotel (as it was recently named) stands empty and shuttered; and it is unclear what is to happen to it.

A Beaux-Arts apparition

The empty entrance.

The Jianghan Hotel

Possibly an Annex to the hotel.

The Hotel Des Indes in The Hague, built in 1881 by King William II to house returning Dutch colonials from the Netherlands East Indies. Note how the front portico of the hotel still bears the coat of arms of the city of Batavia (today’s Jakarta).

Last week I paid a visit to the venerable Hotel Des Indes in The Hague (the Netherlands) – the sister hotel to the late Hotel Des Indes in Batavia (today’s Jakarta), sadly demolished by Soeharto in the 1970s.

It struck me, as I was revelling in the old world ambiance of the hotel, and then subsequently snooping around The Hague for visual traces of Dutch colonial history, that perhaps I was somewhat unhealthily obsessed with the colonial.

My Grand Tour, while ostensibly a bid to “learn about the history of my region of origin”; is really a grand exercise in Nostalgia for the Colonial.  Not just any colonial – but the kind of luxurious colonial that is probably a little politically incorrect to indulge oneself in, let alone proclaim a penchant for.

That this form of colonial was almost exclusively white European – as in, I would have been systematically excluded from partaking in these colonial experiences in the day – just makes it seem all the more unhealthy, delusional and self-indulgent.

But why – I wonder – am I so obsessed with the colonial past?  And… is it morally right for anyone (particularly a post-colonial, like myself) to be so interested in a phenomenon (i.e. colonialism) regarded as exceedingly negative and often downright evil?

I got the answer to both my questions from a Dutch collector I happened to pay a visit to, together my colleagues at the Museum; an interesting man that happened to own one of the most significant collections of Dutch Colonial furniture and art in the world – many of which originate from Batavia.

He said and I quote (with some liberties as to language since he is not a native English speaker):

“The history of colonialism is seen to be dominated by wars and struggles for independence, which were all undoubtedly horrible, particularly for the non-Europeans. But the reality is that in between these wars and incidences were long periods of time where everyday life took place – where people went to work, cooked dinner, built houses, bought furniture, brought up their children and so on.

And in these periods of relative peace, a specific kind of artistry that mixed both European and Asian artistic traditions evolved and was captured in the forms carved, etched or painted on everyday objects people surrounded themselves and their lives with – furniture, kitchenware, ornaments, paintings.

In emphasising the horrors of colonialism – those wars and struggles for independence; which are undoubtedly horrible; one then thinks that EVERYTHING to do with colonialism is horrible; and the result is that one then shies away from engaging with the colonial at all, except at a negative, critical level.

And that is such a tragedy, because the colonial artforms and aesthetics that emerged – in all colonial traditions, not just the Dutch – are beautiful aesthetic traditions in their own right; deserving of attention and appreciation.

They demonstrate that things were never black and white – that one was never purely European or purely Asian; but that in fact colonial society was fluid.  Inter-marriage between Europeans and Asians were common, and so were mixed, Eurasian children.  European tradition influenced the Asian, yes, but Asian traditions also influenced European taste in return. The unique aesthetic style of the furniture and decorative objects show this!

……

And that is why I am interested in the colonial and I collect the colonial; because I don’t want people to forget that there was also beauty and there was also an everyday life.  Batavia was Dutch for almost 350 years – surely every day couldn’t have been war and struggle.”

It is with these words in mind, that I present some views of the colonial in The Hague – the one city most Dutch Europeans and Eurasians chose to “repatriate” to when they were thrown out of their country by Soeharto in the 1940s.

They are barely-there traces remaining in a once-colonial city; but they are palpable all the same and worth documenting.

Enjoy.

Arciphelbuurt is a district in the Hague in which many returning Dutch Indonesians chose to stay. The streets of this district are named after islands in the Indonesian archipelago (therefore “archipel”) and other Dutch colonial territories. This is the view of a 19th century residential building on Sumatrastraat.

The Louis Couperus Museum in Archipelbuurt. Louis Couperus was one of the most important auteurs in Dutch Colonial Literature (as well as Dutch literature in general). He was born in The Hague, and spent part of his early years in the Dutch East Indies (specifically Batavia) before returning as a young adult to the Netherlands. He is famous for his novel De Stille Kracht (The Hidden Force) which is of a Dutch colonial family falling apart due to supernatural forces.

The Huis van Europa is the seat of the European Commission in The Hague. Interestingly, it is fronted by an Art Deco era statue of a Balinese woman.

Finally, Restaurant Garoeda is one of the oldest and most established Indische restaurants in The Hague, established in the 1940s by a returning Dutch Indonesian. It is known for its rijstaeffel – those amazing multi-course set dinners of regional Indonesian dishes accompanied with rice. I had dinner there and found the rijstaeffel delicious.

The German Governor’s Residence, built in 1903 for an astronomical sum. Today, it channels a Bavarian castle.

Tsingtao (known as “Qingdao” today) is a rarity in the history of colonialism – in that it was a German colony. The Germans came late in the colonial game (in the 1890s); and they established a scattering of colonies in far-flung corners of the world – German East Africa; German New Guinea (Kaiser Wilhelmsland) – which they lost within decades in the aftermath of World War I.

Qingdao is the most representative, and best preserved of all the German colonies; the German legacy in the rest hasn’t survived well. The city wasn’t a Treaty Port, but a Concession – a full-fledged colony – in the same way Hong Kong was. And it was Imperial Germany’s most-prized colony in the East.

The coat of arms of Imperial Germany, in the former Tsingtao Club (1910) on Friedrichstrasse (today’s waterfront Zhongshan Road).

The Kiautschou 膠州Peninsula in northern China was ceded to Imperial Germany in 1898 on similar terms as Hong Kong – which is to say, in perpetuity. Tsingtao was the administrative capital of the concession – a port occupying a perfect harbour in Kiautschou Bay.

Unfortunately, due to World War I, the Germans would only hold it for a mere 16 years. In 1914, when WWI broke out, the Japanese Allied Forces over-ran the colony and took it for themselves, holding it till 1922.

Channelling a wintry scene in Munich – the German Protestant Church, built in 1910 in a German Classical style.

Just off the Tsingtao waterfront stands wonderful examples of German-era colonial architecture, including this: the surreal Kiautschou Hotel, built in 1906.

Beach houses in Tsingtao’s northern suburbs channel beach resorts in Schleswig Holstein.

Tsingtao has some of the loveliest beaches in China, all of which are immensely popular with the locals.

Despite the very short time the Germans held Tsingtao, they invested heavily, extensively and swiftly in their colony. Even today, much of the old town and its oldest suburbs (like the Badaguan villa district) still boasts extensive tracts of German-era architecture, as well as quaint little beaches, complete with beach huts, reminiscent of North Sea beach resorts.

And there’s almost no need to mention the city’s most iconic export – Tsingtao Beer – which owes its existence to the Germans. In fact, the Tsingtao Brewery still stands where it was established by the Germans, a hundred years ago.

The city’s most famous export – Tsingtao Beer.

The Tsingtao Brewery, established in 1903 and still standing.

Qingdao is known for its amazing seafood, which all goes very well with Tsingtao Beer.

The city was actually held longer by the Japanese, who occupied the city twice – 1914 – 1922, and again from 1938 – 1949, when Mao’s Communist forces wrested the city from the Japanese.

The Japanese built a “New City” adjacent and further inland from the German Old Town. They kept much of the German architecture in the Old Town, adapting many of the buildings for their own use.

The “New City” they would build in the mixed Japanese-European style that characterized Showa Japan and much of Japan’s other colonies. Today, much of that “New City” has been restored by city authorities and rather misleadingly marketed as a “Traditional German Town.”

Entrance to the “New City” the Japanese built when they took over in the mid-1910s. It is today restored and misleadingly branded as “German Architecture Street.”

It ain’t German, folks; it’s Japanese.

This month’s installment of the Grand Tour pays homage to this sliver of Imperial Germany in East, still impossibly clinging on to its existence.

St Michael’s Cathedral on the former Bremen Street was completed in 1934. It is one of Qingdao’s most iconic landmarks.

Qingdao’s other iconic landmark is the Zhanqiao Pier, which features on the label of every Tsingtao Beer bottle and is widely considered the city’s official symbol. This is the view from my balcony at the Hotel Prinz Heinrich (today’s Zhanqiao Prince Hotel).

Landmark Apartments, in the Old Town.

Today’s Qingdao is regarded as one of the most beautiful cities in China.  And much of it has got to do with its architectural heritage, which has been remarkably preserved, and is set against a dramatic natural landscape of sea and mountain.

In this post, we explore Old Town Tsingtao, which was built by the Germans at an alarmingly fast rate between 1898 and 1914, when they lost Tsingtao to the Japanese.

There isn’t any specific route here – we start off in the heart of the Old Town, just off the Tsingtao waterfront, meander our way to St Michael’s Cathedral and its environs, pop over to the former foreign consulate quarter, trek up the hill to see the Governor’s Residence up close, before taking another meandering stroll along the waterfront to view some of the most striking of the dozens of colonial-era villas that still stand.

Along the way, the rain comes and goes, the mist comes and goes, but through it all, Tsingtao remains charming and pleasant – truly one of the rare cities in China.

Thankfully, the city has rather meticulously documented its built heritage, and so many of the buildings I’ve been able to identify.  A lot of the research has been done in Chinese though – and so where a building is not identified, it is most likely because I am unable to translate the Chinese name of that building.

The German Post Office (1899)

The Pharmacy, on Prinz Heinrich Street

Qingdao Light Industry, on Prinz Heinrich Street.

The Seamens’ Club (1901)

Residential Villa near St Michael’s Cathedral.

Commercial buildings.

Former offices of the Hamburg-America Line.

Commercial buildings near St Michael’s.

St Michael’s Church itself.

Colonial era building erected in 1899.

The Holy Ghost Convent (1902).

German Town Hall (1906).

Villa in the Consulate District.

The Former Imperial Court of Kiautchou (1913)

The former Danish Consulate (1900)

The former German Navy Battalion HQ (1900s).

Christchurch Tsingtao (1910)

The Governor’s Residence.

Random Villa I

Random Villa II

Random Villa III

Th Strand Hotel 1904.

Random Villa IV

Random Villa V

Random Villa VI – on the waterfront.

Random Villas VII and VIII.

Random Villas IX and X.

The Marquis Hotel (1906)

Waterfront Villa.

The Tsingtao Club (1911).

Panorama of Old Tsingtao from Signal Hill, with a view of Christchurch.

The Eight Passes Villa District, 八大關

The Eight Passes Villa District, or Badaguan, is the most beautiful area of Tsingtao city, hands down.  A residential district, it was built by the Germans between 1898 – 1914, and then subsequently enhanced and beautified during the Japanese era.  It was known for its unique urban design, with eight streets, each named after a historic Chinese Pass (e.g. 嘉峪關 Jiayuguan), and each lined with a different species of evergreen or flowering tree.

Badaguan was home to the many wealthy German and other European magnates in the city; and, particularly during the Japanese era, to White Russians that fled Soviet Russia.  During the Republican era, many of the villas became homes to famous Chinese literary or political personalities – and this specific history is assiduously commemorated on the many plaques that adorn the gates of the villas.

In this post, I randomly wander through the eight streets with their eight different tree species, eschewing the history of the individual villas for a more holistic experience of the entire precinct itself.  It is a fairytale-like place, affording a rare moment of respite in the midst of China’s urban chaos.

The highlight of the wander is the Granite House 花石樓 – arguably the most important landmark in the District, and built in 1931 by a wealthy (White) Russian magnate.  From the tops of the “castle,” one overlooks a small little beach that wouldn’t look out of place on the German North Sea coast; and beyond that beach, the new, shimmering skyline of Qingdao city.

And then one descends back into the quiet, verdant streets with their villas for the rest of the morning.

Granite House 花石樓 is the most popular landmark in the district, and affords beautiful views of the district and Tsingtao City.

Interior of Granite House

View from the Tower of Granite House – of the beach and Qingdao City beyond.

View from the Tower of a wedding photoshoot on the rocky coastline.

Goodbye Badaguan.

Over-restored and over-renovated residential complex in the Japanese New City, misleadingly “re-branded” as the German Culture Town.

In 1914, following Japan’s declaration of war on Germany – Japan was part of the Allies in World War I – the Empire of the Rising Sun occupied the former German colony of Tsingtao.

It would rule the city twice – the first time from 1914 to 1922, following which the city was returned to the Chinese Nationalist Government under Sun Yat Sen.  The city was occupied by the Japanese again, however, in 1938; and the second occupation would last till 1945 – following the end of World War II.

The Japanese built an entirely new city north of the coast-hugging German city.  They retained most of the original German architecture in the Old Town, inserting only a few pieces of architecture here and there – one example being the Concert Hall on the waterfront.

But their New City they built in the image of other colonies like Dairen and Keijo (Seoul). Along the main street were erected dozens of monumental buildings – many of which were local headquarters of major bank and trading corporations like the Chartered Bank of India, China and Australia (today’s Standard Chartered Bank), the Yokohama Specie Bank and the Hong Kong Shanghai Bank.  Amidst these banks stood the imposing Tsingtao (Japanese) Stock Exchange.

Today, this New City has been re-appropriated by the city authorities, immaculately restored and misleadingly re-named the “German Culture Town.”  Most of the buildings still stand, with many having been converted into residential condominiums; though it is unclear whether or not the German flourishes along the street are authentic or latter-day additions.

In the middle of it all, the Tsingtao Exchange stands dark and mute – one of the few buildings yet to be restored.  It houses a squatter colony today, but one can only hope that a new lease of life is nigh.

Chartered Bank of India, China and Australia (1925)

Yokohama Specie Bank (1919)

Bank of Communications (1913) – this is a Chinese bank built during the Nationalist era.

Probably another Bank Building…

The Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank Corporation Headquarters (1917).

The Tsingtao Exchange (1920).

More Bank buildings…

Probably another commercial building…

Modern-day residences

Modern-day residences

Modern-day residences

This building marks the end of the “German Culture town.”

Tsingtao (Japanese) Middle School (1920) does not sit in the New City but in the old, coastline-hugging German town.

View of the former Hotel Prinz Heinrich – today’s Zhanqiao Peace Hotel from the sea.  The oldest-built wing is at centre.

The grande dame of the Tsingtao hospitality scene at the turn of the century was the Hotel Prinz Heinrich, built in 1899 by the Germans on a stunning location along the Tsingtao waterfront.  It was named after Prince Heinrich of Prussia, a younger brother of the German Kaiser Wilhelm II.

The era of the Grand Tour taking place largely in the late 1910s and 1920s, most Grand Tourists would have remembered the hotel, however, as the Grand Hotel グランド　ホテル- which was what the Japanese called it when they took over the colony from 1914.

The former Hotel Prinz Heinrich occupied three buildings along the coast, adjacent to Tsingtao’s famous Zhanqiao Pier.  Today’s Zhanqiao Prince Hotel occupies only one and a half of these buildings.  The rest of the former hotel is occupied by the offices of the local press.

While the buildings themselves still stand, and the interior decor of the lobby largely maintains its original, charming character – the hotel, managed by a local, Chinese, company, is perhaps 3-stars at most.  Though of course by Chinese standards, it is considered a luxury hotel.

Most of the rooms have been generically laid out, except for the suites and balcony rooms facing the front of the main wing – which still retain some old-world charm.  The best rooms in the building – which I happened to have the opportunity to stay in at a very reasonable rate – are the two balcony rooms on the top floor of the hotel, which provide a stunning view onto Tsingtao bay, Zhanqiao Pier, and the new city in the distance.

Up there, one can almost forget that time has passed – so palpably does one feel the lingering charm of German Tsingtao.

Close-up of the Main Wing, which was the original Hotel Prinz Heinrich as first built. my room was the balcony room at top right.

The lobby of the hotel still maintains an Art Nouveau decor.

Here’s another view of the lobby, looking towards the main door.

The Kiautschou Cafe is a charming little bar, cafe and bookshop in the lobby.

Another view of the Kiautschou Cafe

Art Nouveau decorative furniture in the lobby.

The Hotel had a Chinese seafood restaurant which had been generically furnished. I thought that the restaurant at the former Tsingtao Club, right next door, probably gave a better sense of how the restaurant would have looked like

Ditto for the bar – this is from the Tsingtao Club next door; the Hotel presently does not have a bar on its premises.

Interior of the balcony room.

Stunning view from the balcony of the Zhanqiao Pier.

Model of a ship in the hotel’s breakfast area.

A sweeping view of the Hotel Prinz Heinrich, showing just how stunning and dramatic its location is, along the bustling Tsingtao waterfront.

A splendid bottle of wine, enjoyed on my own.

It seems almost like an oversight that I haven’t already expounded at length on this topic – so integral to the entire experience of my entire Grand Tour of the Far East has this been.

You see, I dislike travelling with people. Not because I dislike people. On the contrary, I love them – I just prefer to be observing them, rather than trying to observe tedious niceties when travelling in their company.

I discovered the pleasures of travelling on one’s own rather early – when I went on an epic backpacking journey through Britain during my first Summer vacation at university. I enjoyed it so much I did it again the next Summer, and the Summer after – to other places than Britain, naturally.

Why exactly do I like it? What are the pleasures?

Let me enumerate.

Firstly, there is nothing like setting and keeping to a schedule of activities and sights that is entirely one’s own. How often have we, in travelling with friends or family, been subject to the tyranny of another person’s preference, and found one’s self being dragged, willy-nilly to some dreary shopping expedition at the most generic-horrifying mall ever; or worse yet, find one’s self being bullied out of bed at 5 a.m. in the morning, so as to hike up some infernally steep slope to peer blearily at the sunrise, which, though admittedly “magnificent,” pales in comparison to a few more life-giving hours in bed.

Really, there is nothing better than being able to do what one wants, when one wants and how one wants it to be done.

Second – I am one for PRIVACY, not sharing. I like my own room, my own space, my own bath, my own bathroom, my own view, my own desk, my own bed, my own…well… everything. I cannot countenance having to tiptoe around somebody else’s mess in my room, particularly since my things are always immaculately arranged when I travel. I hate it when the television is turned on – as it inevitably is when I have a travel companion – particularly since my idea of relaxation is a bottle of wine and a good book. Worse of all – I get so anxious that I would do something embarrassing like snore (or worse!) in my sleep that I don’t get any sleep at all!

And then of course, there is the privacy of thought – how does one think, observe and reflect on what one has observed and experienced, when there are annoying voices constantly yapping away at one’s ear?! (“Ooh take a picture of me please!  Just here!  Right here!”)

The last thing one needs, when one travels, is to have one’s own private space and private thoughts invaded and crowded out by people who simply would not understand.

Third – I have found that being alone, I am more able to immerse myself into the immediate surroundings; observing, absorbing details in the backdrop or the mise-en-scène – whether it be the exquisite curves of a Doric column in the Grand Lobby of a Grand Hotel; or the subtle body language of a couple ensconced in the corner of the hotel restaurant suggesting they are on the verge of a breakup. On my own, I am better able to relish the saffron-sweet spice of a glass of rioja; or the melt-in-your-mouth surprise of a morsel of rare kobe beef; or the delicious throb of the double bass in a jazz performance; or that menacing shade of green in a piece by Francis Bacon in the Tate.

There is no distraction; no mediation – just me and whatever it is that I am experiencing. And that immediacy is intoxicating, because it is so intense; and also so secret and personal, something only I – and I alone! – am privy to.

What a wonderful thing!

I think ultimately the reason why I travel and relish traveling solo is that the entire experience is personal – meaning it is an expression and exploration of the self – of MYSELF, of ME.

An expression because the way I travel is distinctive to me, and me alone – my preferences, my views, my tastes. An exploration, because each time I travel, I find out new things about myself – how I react to sights, sounds and people; how I internalise and reflect; how I behave in such and such scenarios…

In other words, what I’m saying is this: to travel solo is to engage, experience and explore with great immediacy the richness of the universe within and outside the self – within and outside the self being, at some level, one and the same thing.

This, I think, is one of the most meaningful, satisfying and even mind-blowing experiences one can have.

Enjoying (more) wine and a stunning view, on my own…

Bank Building in the French Concession.

Of all the cities on this Grand Tour of the Far East, Tientsin (spelled Tianjin in pinyin) is my favourite by far, for three reasons.

First – unlike any other treaty port in China, Korea or Japan, Tientsin consists of 8 separate foreign concessions, each with their own unique aspects.  Second – most of the architecture in all of these foreign concessions has miraculously remained intact and is immaculately restored, making for a magical and nostalgic experience.  Third – Tientsin itself remains off the beaten path, whether it be for foreigners or Chinese – and it is thus a remarkably pleasant (and remarkably clean) city to take in.

The treaty port of Tientsin was not one of the original five treaty ports, but part of a second wave of 11 treaty ports that were forced open by the 1858-60 Treaties of Tientsin, which ended the Second Opium War, and called, over and above the treaty ports, for the opening of the Foreign Legation quarter in Peking.

The earliest of the Imperial powers to set up shop in the city were the British and the French in 1860.  The rest soon followed suit.  Of all of these concessions, the British, French and Japanese concessions were the largest most dense.  The German, Austro-Hungarian and Italian concessions were small, but their respective imperial powers invested heavily into architecture and infrastructure.  The Belgian and Russian concessions, in contrast, were not really invested in and today, remain the least architecturally interesting.

The list of concessions and how long they lasted, is as follows:

The British Concession (1860 – 1943)

The British Concession centred around Victoria Square and Gordon Hall – this is a contemporary construction of a New York-style hotel atop the original Gordon Hall building.

The French Concession (1860 – 1946) - see above image.

The Japanese Concession (1898 – 1945)

Quaint low-rise shophouses and residences typify the Japanese Concession.

The German Concession (1899 – 1917)

Sweeping view of the German Concession.

The Austro-Hungarian Concession (1901 – 1917)

The restored waterfront of the Austro-Hungarian Concession.

The Italian Concession (1901 – 1947)

Cathedral in the Italian Concession.

The Belgian Concession (1902 – 1931)

The Belgians didn’t bother developing their concession at all. These are contemporary apartments.

The Russian Concession (1903 – 1920)

The Russian Consulate was the only structure built by the Russians in their Concession.

Today’s Tianjin is an enormous city that, like the capital Beijing, also as municipality status. Alongside the old town, a new city of skyscrapers has been erected that is as modern and architecturally interesting (also) as Tokyo, Yokohama or Seoul.

Unfortunately, the city authorities have also decided to erect a faux-European city in and over the old town itself, expertly recreating the architecture of time past such that in many instances, one is unclear where heritage ends, and mimicry begins.

I’m not sure that that is the right way to go, from a purist’s standpoint.  But I have to say that the new architecture has more or less been tastefully done, and doesn’t offend, not really.

The White River – showing modern Tianjin – a mix of skyscrapers and faux-European architecture.

The next few posts takes the grand tourist through a walking tour of the major concession areas in the city.

Gordon Hall, British Concession.

The British Concession was the oldest foreign concession in Tientsin, dating from 1860.  It was leased in perpetuity to the British Crown and occupied some 200 acres on the left bank of Pei Ho River. The seat of administration was at Gordon Hall, overseeing Victoria Park.

A bustling commercial street cut through most of the foreign concessions, with a different name depending on which concession it cut through. In the British concession, it was known as Victoria Street, and it played host to numerous headquarters of international banks, as well as merchant houses.

A de facto American concession was administered from 1869, as part of the British concession.  Victoria Street became Woodrow Wilson Street here, and there is a clear distinction between the buildings here and in the British Concession.  These are starkly commercial, bourgeois/beaux-arts and monumental.

This gallery takes one through both concessions…

…the British

Mediaeval style building flanking Victoria Park.

Another building flanking Victoria Park.

The Tientsin Club, flanking Victoria Park.

Victoria Park and the monstrosity the Chinese have built atop the former Gordon Hall.

Hong Kong Shanghai Bank building, along Victoria Street.

The headquarters of Jardine, Matheson & Co.

The Russo-Asiatic Bank, Victoria Street.

The Yokohama Specie Bank.

The Jiuan Savings Bank.

The Joint Savings Society Bank.

The Tientsin Land Investment Company.

Headquarters of Butterfield & Swire.

Citibank.

Victoria Street ends with the American Navy Club.

…and (possibly) the American Concession

Unfortunately, I did not manage to properly document the buildings in this part of the concession.

Leopold Apartments.

Villa in the Five Great Avenues Area, the British Concession.

The Five Great Avenues is a residential area towards the Western end of the British Concession.  It is a rectangular area containing more than 22 suburban streets lined with concession-era residential villas.

In its heyday, this was the heart of the social scene in Tientsin’s British Concession, where the Racecourse was, and where its wealthy resided.  Quite wonderfully, almost all of its historic architecture has survived and many have been restored.

And there is a wealth of such historic architecture!  The Tianjin Department of Historical Building Protection notes that the Five Great Avenues Area features more than 230 buildings with different European architectural styles.  In the 1920s and 30s many Chinese celebrities, politicians and other literary personalities resided here.

The most monumental of these buildings sit on Machang Avenue 馬場道, which quite literally means, Racecourse Avenue.  Further in the area, one gets an eerie-nostalgic sense of being in the English suburbs, and along some stretches, even in one of the Council Housing estates in London.

The area is a pleasure to explore and stroll around in, but quite frankly, exceedingly hard to photograph, whatwith the throngs of locals taking in the scenery alongside one. Its nearest equivalent on the Grand Tour thus far is the Badaguan Area in Tsingtao, though it is nowhere near as idyllic.

Here’s glimpse of the streetscape…

Like being in the English suburbs

Council Housing makes an appearance…

Machang Avenue has the most monumental and opulent buildings.

Church

High School

A clock marks the beginning (an end) of the Five Great Avenues Area.

French Bank marks the start of Rue de France, and the French Concession.

The French concession was established in the same year as the British concession, in the aftermath of the Treaty of Tientsin.  It sat to the northwest of the British Concession, and was about two thirds of its same.

The main thoroughfare here was the Rue de France, which was nothing more than the French name for the same street called Victoria Street in the British Concession.  Along the street stood numerous French banks and other commercial establishments, as well as, interestingly, the Imperial Qing Dynasty Post Office.

Here’s a glimpse…

Qing Dynasty Post Office

Bank of Korea Building.

Le Cercle Francais (the French Club)

Banque de L’Indochine

Hotel Imperial

French Industry Bureau

French Concession Municipal Board