What about that time we went to that yak restaurant?

Yeah. What about that?

Funny you should ask... we thought the place looked promising - took the lift up from the street.  Interesting decor, a few people there.  What we had failed to notice in the lift were all the pictures of yaks enjoying themselves in the fields...  We could have tasted yak intestine, yak brain, yak liver, not a shred of yak back steak or eye fillet, mind you... I read the menu (thankfully with english translations) with increasing alarm.  I like to think I'm open to a many new experiences, but I just couldn't wrap my head around this particular culinary one.  We beat an embarrassed retreat.  It was not as hasty as we would've liked, as we had to wait for the damn lift.

In other, happier, food-related news:  I think this is a moon cake?  Someone out there can correct me.  Anyway, bought to fill a small space still remaining after our steamed bun escapade in the old market at Yuyuan.  Delicious.  As were the steamed buns, which were actually dumplings, and a lovely food tradition in Shanghai.

Below you see Geoff in the old town markets.  The hawking here is aggressive and enterprising, but also mostly friendly and good-humoured.  We got sucked into the web of one particular bloke, who helped us find a mah jong set.  I'm hoping the box will fit your set, Ma.  Geoff did his aggressive bargaining thing, aided my hatred of the whole process and tendency to wander away.  They chased us for quite some time before agreeing on a price.  Smiles all round so I guess they did ok.  The thing is, even in the steamed bun restaurant touts came through trying to get us to come and buy a watch (Geoff's fatal flaw, as it happens), but luckily we were short on RMB and trying to find places to change money in Shanghai is a dark art.  With a focus on food over fake watches, what cash remained was too little even to strike a deal with these seasoned street sellers.  Yay.

At the Bank of China they told us it would be a one hour wait to change some money.  We  left.  At a handy currency exchange the commission was exorbitant.  We left.  Finally the bank by our hotel - SBD or some three letter combo - let us in, gave us a ticket, and then after about 17 forms had been filled in, signed, in triplicate, and passport photocopied, they gave us a staggeringly good rate.  Yay the SBD? Bank.  On our way in we met a bunch of very cheerful security guards, armed to the teeth with what looked like sawn off shot guns (I do not know my way around guns - as more of you have observed than I would really like) carrying large bins of money, presumably, out of the building.

Geoff wanted Sichuan food for dinner one night, so the concierge sent us to this place (below) on the 8th floor of an enormous shopping mall down the road.  This was the chilli chicken - sooo yum - even better than the cumin beef, fried peppers, and garlic-salted green beans.  All washed down with a couple of tsingtao beers.