Before I arrived, I had this fixed idea of Shanghai - somewhere between Blade Runner and a luxury mall. All neon and speed, right? I pictured Lujiazui’s skyline glowing in the mist, fast trains whooshing by, and locals too busy to notice tourists.
I thought I’d be lost in translation, constantly fumbling through menus and metro signs, overwhelmed by how big and fast everything seemed. That’s what most travel blogs hinted at, anyway.
But once I landed, something felt… quieter. Not literally, of course - the honks and subway rush were real - but the pace wasn’t as intimidating as I’d feared. People helped when I got stuck at a QR code turnstile. Taxi drivers chatted when they weren’t on Douyin. And sure, Lujiazui looked as sci-fi as I imagined, but five minutes away was a park filled with dancers and birdcages and a man selling handwritten poems. I didn’t expect that balance - between ultra-modern and almost nostalgic.
What I Thought I Knew About Shanghai - And What It Really Felt Like!
But once I landed, something felt… quieter. Not literally, of course - the honks and subway rush were real - but the pace wasn’t as intimidating as I’d feared. People helped when I got stuck at a QR code turnstile. Taxi drivers chatted when they weren’t on Douyin. And sure, Lujiazui looked as sci-fi as I imagined, but five minutes away was a park filled with dancers and birdcages and a man selling handwritten poems. I didn’t expect that balance - between ultra-modern and almost nostalgic.
Maybe the biggest surprise was that Shanghai didn’t feel like it was performing for me. It just was. There were no obvious “look here, tourist” signs, no forced charm. You have to tune in a bit, slow down a little. And once you do, Shanghai doesn’t just show itself - it kind of lets you in. That’s when it stops being a city you’re visiting, and starts feeling like one you could live in - if only for a little while. If you're still figuring out where to start, this guide helped me a lot.
I’ll admit it: I didn’t plan my Shanghai days around neighbourhoods. I had a list of “must-sees” like The Bund and Yu Garden, but didn’t map it out by district. That turned out to be a blessing. Because the best moments? They didn’t come from ticking off landmarks - they came from wandering.
Take the area around Wukang Mansion. I ended up there because I got off at the wrong metro stop. But instead of rushing back, I wandered down tree-lined streets that felt more like Paris than China. Locals walked poodles in tiny sweaters. A man painted water calligraphy on the side-walk. I grabbed a coffee from a place that only accepted WeChat Pay - and luckily, I’d set mine up the night before. That one hour turned into three, just walking and watching.
My Favourite Neighbourhoods (and a Few I Found by Accident)
I’ll admit it: I didn’t plan my Shanghai days around neighbourhoods. I had a list of “must-sees” like The Bund and Yu Garden, but didn’t map it out by district. That turned out to be a blessing. Because the best moments? They didn’t come from ticking off landmarks - they came from wandering.
Take the area around Wukang Mansion. I ended up there because I got off at the wrong metro stop. But instead of rushing back, I wandered down tree-lined streets that felt more like Paris than China. Locals walked poodles in tiny sweaters. A man painted water calligraphy on the side-walk. I grabbed a coffee from a place that only accepted WeChat Pay - and luckily, I’d set mine up the night before. That one hour turned into three, just walking and watching.
Then there was Yangpu Riverside. I hadn’t even heard of it until a woman I met at a hostel mentioned it. She said, “Go before sunset - it’s quiet and weirdly calming.” She was right. The skyline was still there, just from a distance, and old warehouses turned cafés lined the path. Kids on scooters zipped past elderly couples doing tai chi. It felt lived-in. Real. Not curated for tourists. That’s the side of Shanghai I liked most: the one that didn’t ask to be liked.
The first time I saw the Shanghai skyline at night, I was on the wrong side of the river. Literally. I was in Puxi, facing Pudong, trying to take a photo while dodging scooters and snack carts. It wasn’t ideal. But a guy next to me - he looked like a local - noticed my frustration. “Go to the rooftop at Huarun Tower,” he said. “Not many tourists. Better view.” I didn’t even know what that was, but I followed his directions. That’s how I ended up sipping plum soda on a quiet terrace, watching the Oriental Pearl Tower light up without a single selfie stick in sight.
Rooftops, River Walks, and the Nightlife I Didn’t See Coming
The first time I saw the Shanghai skyline at night, I was on the wrong side of the river. Literally. I was in Puxi, facing Pudong, trying to take a photo while dodging scooters and snack carts. It wasn’t ideal. But a guy next to me - he looked like a local - noticed my frustration. “Go to the rooftop at Huarun Tower,” he said. “Not many tourists. Better view.” I didn’t even know what that was, but I followed his directions. That’s how I ended up sipping plum soda on a quiet terrace, watching the Oriental Pearl Tower light up without a single selfie stick in sight.
Riverside walks hit differently too. I thought the Bund would be the highlight, but Suzhou Creek at night surprised me. It was less grand, more personal. Couples strolled with bubble tea, someone played violin near a pedestrian bridge, and the reflections from the old factory buildings shimmered like oil on water. There was no big show - just pockets of calm in a city that doesn’t usually rest.
Nightlife? I was honestly expecting sleek lounges and overpriced cocktails. And yeah, those exist. But what I found more memorable were the late-night noodle stalls in Hongkou, where locals argue over broth recipes, or the sweaty dance floor at Elevator, a club hidden in a nondescript building with no sign. I walked in because I heard drum & bass echoing down the stairwell. Hours later, I walked out with ringing ears and a phone full of new contacts. That’s the Shanghai I didn’t plan for - but probably loved the most.
Some people collect magnets. In Shanghai, I collected meals. And most of them happened after dark. I never meant to make dumplings a nightly ritual, but somehow, every day ended with me crouched on a tiny plastic stool, steam fogging my glasses. The place changed each time - sometimes it was the glass-walled Din Tai Fung in Xintiandi, other nights it was a corner joint near Dapuqiao that served xiaolongbao with suspiciously hot broth. No napkins, no English menu, just a nod from the cook when it was ready. I got burned more than once. Worth it every time.
Nightlife? I was honestly expecting sleek lounges and overpriced cocktails. And yeah, those exist. But what I found more memorable were the late-night noodle stalls in Hongkou, where locals argue over broth recipes, or the sweaty dance floor at Elevator, a club hidden in a nondescript building with no sign. I walked in because I heard drum & bass echoing down the stairwell. Hours later, I walked out with ringing ears and a phone full of new contacts. That’s the Shanghai I didn’t plan for - but probably loved the most.
A City for Dumplings, Soup, and Late-Night Scavenger Hunts
Some people collect magnets. In Shanghai, I collected meals. And most of them happened after dark. I never meant to make dumplings a nightly ritual, but somehow, every day ended with me crouched on a tiny plastic stool, steam fogging my glasses. The place changed each time - sometimes it was the glass-walled Din Tai Fung in Xintiandi, other nights it was a corner joint near Dapuqiao that served xiaolongbao with suspiciously hot broth. No napkins, no English menu, just a nod from the cook when it was ready. I got burned more than once. Worth it every time.
Then there was soup. Real soup. Not the kind served in polished bowls at upscale restaurants, but the plastic-cup, eat-on-the-curb kind. I found one stall in Yangpu District that served peppery soup with rice noodles. I was hesitant, sure. But a student next to me said, “This is the stuff locals swear by after clubbing.” And she wasn’t wrong. At 15 RMB, it warmed me up better than any latte could.
But maybe my favourite moments were the unexpected ones. Like following a local friend into a mall basement at 11 p.m. to find a guy selling pancakes next to a claw machine arcade. Or walking down Julu Road after midnight and stumbling into a group doing a hotpot picnic with portable burners right on the side-walk. I didn’t eat that time - but they offered. Shanghai’s night food scene isn’t just delicious. It’s weirdly social. You don’t just feed your stomach; you end up in conversations you never planned to have.
You’ll find no shortage of “top 10 things to do in Shanghai” lists. I read a dozen before I came. Most of them told me to see the Bund, stroll through Yu Garden, visit the Pearl Tower, and maybe get a bird’s-eye view from the top of the Shanghai Tower. And honestly? They weren’t wrong. The view from the Bund at night hits different, and I still think Yu Garden, even with the crowds, is one of the most cinematic places I’ve seen in China.
But here’s the thing - I wouldn’t stop there. That list gives you the city’s polished side. If you only do those, you’ll miss Shanghai’s texture. Some of my favourite moments weren’t big-ticket attractions at all. They were sitting on a side street eating scallion noodles for 18 RMB, or walking through the French Concession and stumbling across a courtyard full of retired dancers practising to a portable speaker. You don’t plan that part of Shanghai - you just walk into it.
But maybe my favourite moments were the unexpected ones. Like following a local friend into a mall basement at 11 p.m. to find a guy selling pancakes next to a claw machine arcade. Or walking down Julu Road after midnight and stumbling into a group doing a hotpot picnic with portable burners right on the side-walk. I didn’t eat that time - but they offered. Shanghai’s night food scene isn’t just delicious. It’s weirdly social. You don’t just feed your stomach; you end up in conversations you never planned to have.
So, What Should You Do in Shanghai? (And What I’d Skip Next Time)
You’ll find no shortage of “top 10 things to do in Shanghai” lists. I read a dozen before I came. Most of them told me to see the Bund, stroll through Yu Garden, visit the Pearl Tower, and maybe get a bird’s-eye view from the top of the Shanghai Tower. And honestly? They weren’t wrong. The view from the Bund at night hits different, and I still think Yu Garden, even with the crowds, is one of the most cinematic places I’ve seen in China.
But here’s the thing - I wouldn’t stop there. That list gives you the city’s polished side. If you only do those, you’ll miss Shanghai’s texture. Some of my favourite moments weren’t big-ticket attractions at all. They were sitting on a side street eating scallion noodles for 18 RMB, or walking through the French Concession and stumbling across a courtyard full of retired dancers practising to a portable speaker. You don’t plan that part of Shanghai - you just walk into it.
So yes, go to the iconic places. Book the river cruise (around 150 RMB), grab that view from the Shanghai Tower (258 RMB). But in between, leave some space. Wander. Drift a little. That’s when Shanghai starts talking back. If you’re still deciding what to do in Shanghai, I’d say: get the hits, but don’t skip the side notes - they’re what make the song worth playing again.
If you’re still deciding what to do in Shanghai, I’d say: get the hits, but don’t skip the side notes - they’re what make the song worth playing again. Check out the must-visits and a few unexpected favorites - they’re all here! (Image source: Unsplash)
