Shanghai No. 1 Department Store, another edifice whose planners didn't spend much time on naming. Once the city's most upscale shopping outlet, it still attracts Chinese visitors from out of town. My wife sneered that the fashion on offer was dated. Pamela, by the way, grew up in rural Taiwan.
Close to the department store on Nánjīng Dōng Lù 南京东路 is Taikang Foods, the place to go if you're in the market for flattened pig heads. My wife settled instead for something labeled as "Streaky Bacon" (which, I've since been informed, is actually what normal bacon is called. Forgive my ignorance).
Shanghai First Food Store is another fine purveyor of flattened pig heads. The second floor specializes in traditional food and snacks, including that most Chinese of dining establishments, Màidāngláo.
The site of the former Wing On, opened in 1918 and once considered one of the "big four" department stores in Shanghai. Walking through the first floor today, it's hard to conjure up the building's former glory.
Nanjing Dong Lu after the sun goes down and the neon comes on. Though certainly lively with all the pedestrian traffic, the shopping options are desultory for the most part, and the constant offers of crappy kids toys and knockoff watches and bags get tiring quickly (and had it not been for the presence of Amber and Pamela, I'm sure I would've been given ample opportunities for procuring the services of "girls" and/or "massages").
Gold shops proliferate along the pedestrianized street. As China's middle-class continues to grow, the demand among the nouveau riche 土豪 for tasteless jewelery to show off the new-found wealth of Wēnzhōu's 温州 prosperous factory owners shows no signs of abating.
While many of the items for sale in the shops along Nanjing Dong Lu were lacking in taste, the same couldn't be said of the food. You can't go too wrong in China in this regard.