Especially about that toilet seat that flips up automatically every time I open the door to the cubicle. Quite spooky at first encounter. I think I jumped. I developed a fear of self-opening toilet lids after watching a horror movie as a child when the lid opened and a hand came up to grab its victim.

This one doesn’t need any hands to help it open up, nor flush nor close. There’s also a control panel with lots of buttons which say things like “rear cleansing”, “front cleansing” – and frankly, I didn’t dare touch any of them. So again, no hands needed there.

I guess the whole contraption detects motion – I mean, the kind of motion where you are moving around in the bathroom. The problem is, if you leave the door open, that lid opens and shuts each time you make a move. Quite fun at first but gets rather tedious after a while. I tried taking a video because I thought it’d make a good viral video to rival Psy but wasn’t fast enough.

The best thing though is the toilet seat that’s warm as toast. Having never felt the need to have heated seats in a tropical climate, I never realized how wonderful it feels. I think everyone should experience a warm toilet seat at least once for posterity. Your posterior will never feel the same again.

I also feel like my olfactory perception will never be the same again. Whatever the scent is at the Waldorf Astoria Shanghai, it doesn’t agree with me. It’s very strong and floral and at first inhalation, can be overpowering.

Wondering if it was just me, I asked a friend one evening as we walked into the lobby, “Do you smell that?”

“No,” he said. Well, he’s tall. I guess scents don’t travel up to his level or maybe men just don’t notice such things like women.

The next day I asked someone closer to ground level and he wrinkled his nose, sniffed and said, “Ya, now I do. It’s pretty strong. It’s good, especially in China.”

Every hotel seems to using scent to “brand” its experience. It was sweet when only a few were doing it, but now it’s like mass weapons of olfaction. Thing is, scents are very personal. It works in some cases, I guess. I do associate Shangri-La with ginger and bergamot and Shanghai Tang too has a very distinct scent that my girlfriend dislikes so much that she can’t even step into the store but I don’t mind it.

Like everything, it needs to be used with caution and in context. I once walked into a hotel in Chinatown Singapore and its scent mingled with the smell of garlic and onions wafting from the restaurant just off its lobby to create something rather unpleasant.

The Bund

Now I don’t want you to think that I spent most of my stay in Shanghai sitting on the toilet and sniffing around the hotel. As comfortable as the bed and toilet seat were, I did go out to experience the city that is the symbol of our new future.

The Bund is always impressive. Despite the haze and the rain, the neon lights still shine tall, bright and colourful. I dined at Mr and Mrs Bund where they have a chef who likes to do strange things to food.

Lobster-in-a-jar

Lobster-in-a-jar was bizarre – you had to figure out how to get the creature out of the bottle, let alone think about how it got stuffed in, in the first place. 

Being in Shanghai these days is like being in any city – the bars and restaurants all feel the same. Dark. Lots of glass. Noisy.

So I was happy one evening to walk over to the Peace Hotel, restored and now managed by Fairmont, and visit the famous jazz bar. Okay, the band’s now playing Chinese jazz tunes but well, at least you know you are in Shanghai.

That warm toilet seat, by the way, makes me think I am in Japan, where I’ll be this time next week. Can’t wait.