Yuyuan Gardens: Old China meets the Colonel

Above: Access to the Yuyuan Gardens requires you to brave your way through the crowds, which on weekends can be a formidable task.

It's not that communication is impossible in China. But it's not particularly dependable, even if you purchase high-speed Internet services or even a locally connected smartphone.

The friends we are visiting here in Shanghai are on a year-long stay (Gonzaga Law Prof. Ann Murphy is a distinguished Fulbright chair at the Shanghai University School of Finance and Economics) have their own VPN, which gives them far better access than I do through my hotel's web services. But even they have trouble on occasion accessing Facebook and Youtube and other sites that we take for granted in the U.S.

From my hotel, I can't even access Hotmail, either through my laptop or my phone. Yet my wife can. Go figure.

Ah, but such inconveniences aside, we're trying to make the most of our visit. Yesterday it rained, so we didn't do much other than read novels (I'm splitting time between "Rainbows End" by Vernor Vinge and "Tatiana" by Martin Cruz Smith), nap and try to navigate what websites we could.

On Sunday, though, we took a cab to the Yuyuan Gardens and Bazaar, which is located in what is called Shanghai's Old Town. The cabbie dropped us off just a little over a block away, yet it took us the better part of a half hour to figure out how to get inside. The gardens, which are a maze of ponds and bridges and enclosed passageways, can be accessed only by first negotiating the crowded bazaar, another string of shops, each of which boasts a vendor standing outside attempting to lure you in.

The strange aspect of all this, at least to a westerner, is that along with all the silk and spice and precious stone and jewelery shops, you can find a Starbucks, a KFC and even a Dairy Queen. Welcome to globalization.

We did get out last night, later when the rain had dwindled to a mere drizzle. And we ate at a noodle shop near where our friends live. It was one of this hole-in-the wall spots that features formica table and stools instead of actual chairs, and the menu posted on the wall had not a single word in English. But our Chinese friend, a former student of Prof. Murphy and my wife's, ordered for us — and the food was as good as anything Chinese I've ever eaten.

Take that, Col. Sanders.