Fresh Fish

My second day in Shanghai I spent mostly in my hotel. I had asked Pink the day before if I could go on an optional tour to the old town, as I had arranged with my travel company, but she dismissed this saying I could fit that in with a trip planned the following day. She would see me then, the day after tomorrow. I looked at my itinerary: all meals were supposed to be included, but Pink was clearly not in on the deal. I didn't mind, in fact I appreciated the rest.

After a few hours dealing with my photos and making a few notes in my rather well-appointed hotel room, I decided to do a little local exploration. Although in the centre of Shanghai the hotel was set off the road and, since I was also on the fourteenth floor, it was wonderfully quiet. The hotel was part of a complex of buildings consisting of a tall block of offices, various spas, a pool, conference rooms and several restaurants. It was part of a luxurious world, one which I imagine is quite familiar to businessmen, but new to me.

Walking past the kitchens I noticed fish tanks,


and when I asked if I could take pictures I was told that I could by a couple of cheery chefs.


This, I guess, was death row for fish


lobsters,


shrimps,


turtles


and crabs.


As westerners, we tend to balk at such things, but perhaps we should not if we also eat them. It was, in any case, clean and fresh, so I suppose these animals' final hours were relatively happy ones.