China. It’s been in the news a bit lately.One Stuff headline reads China Targets: Global investigation reveals Beijing’s targeting of people in NZ, according to RNZ, Australian Leader of the Opposition Peter Dutton names China as the “biggest threat to Australia's security”, and you’d have to be living under a rock to not know at least the basic ins and outs of the trade tariff war between the United States and China at the moment.But when my partner Dan and I booked a flight to China about nine months ago, we chose it because we: a) wanted an overseas holiday (our passports had been gathering dust since Covid); b) Air NZ had “Asia On Sale!” and Shanghai was the cheapest destination; and c) neither of us had been before.When I told people I was visiting China, the response was nearly always, “China? Why China?”, and while I was excited about the thought of an overseas holiday, I had my own moments of, "Why China?".It probably isn’t high on many lists of “must-visit” places, and much as I hate blaming media for stuff - the majority of what you hear or read is about government corruption and missing people, the harsh justice system, the evils of communism, etc., although I suspect the country’s refusal to budge against Trump’s latest moves has maybe earned it a level of respect lately. From me, anyway.I quelled most nerves I had by telling myself Dan's friend Ben lives there - it must be okay.We arrived in Pudong Airport, Shanghai early on a Wednesday morning and after seamlessly clearing customs, were greeted by Maggie (Ben’s wife, who was born and raised in Shanghai) with a coffee in each hand.Everyone should have a Maggie when they visit China. She provided a gentle introduction to the country, bundling us into her Tesla (made in China, of course), and driving us to our hotel in the city.Dan, me and the view from the 52nd floor of Shanghai Tower. When you want a photo in China with no other people in it, AI editing comes in very handy! Photo: Maggie Bowering (and AI)One of the first things we noticed on the motorway was the number of shiny new cars. We learned no cars older than 20 years are allowed in the city, and vehicles have either green or blue license plates - the majority are green.Blue plates mean a vehicle runs on petrol or diesel, Maggie explains, and the plates have to be bought at auction for tens of thousands of dollars, and are (or at least were!) in high demand and almost impossible to get.The green plates are free and signify a car is electric (or hybrid - conditions apply). The system is part of the Government’s push to meet green energy and carbon reduction targets, and appears to be a successful one.It didn’t seem like a terrible idea, although I imagined quite a few perfectly good cars sitting idly outside the city, too expensive to register and therefore drive.Maggie showed us around a bit while we waited to check into our hotel, had bubble teas delivered to us in the lobby, and explained how we needed to pay for everything using an app on our phone called Alipay. Alipay links directly to your bank account and is used by everyone with something to sell, whether they own a street stall, a taxi, or a high-end hotel.Once we had that sorted, life was easy. We might not have always known what food or drink we were ordering, but everyone understood the word “Alipay”, we could point, and we knew 4rmb (Chinese yuan) roughly converted to NZ$1.The only time I saw any cash was when I asked Maggie if she had some Chinese coins, as my son had asked me to bring some home.Other cool things: There are power bank “stations” dotted all over the city. Because you use your phone for navigation, shopping, communication, everything, the battery goes flat fast. You can rent a powerbank for a 99rmb deposit, take it with you for an hour while you charge your phone, return it to another power bank station of the same type anywhere in the city, and get your deposit back. Mind blown. Bikes are the same. I guess not too dissimilar to the Lime Scooters you can hire in certain New Zealand cities, but on a much larger scale. Yellow and blue bikes are lined up everywhere, and the road rules are basically, the smaller you are on the road, the more people have to look out for you.A power bank charging station in our hotel lobby. Photo: Ashley SmythBikes for rent - you can pay 8rmb (NZ$2) a month and have unlimited rental of these bikes to use within the city. The apartment buildings in the background are an example of how most people in Shanghai live. Real estate is extremely expensive, and so most rent an apartment in a "compound". Photo: Ashley SmythMaggie said people would sometimes try to get money by pretending to be hit by a car. It didn’t matter if it was the driver’s fault or the pedestrian's fault - the driver always had to pay.During a few park walks, we watched retired people congregate to sing, dance, do martial arts and socialise without any sign of self-consciousness. It was really lovely to watch.Retirement age in China is lower than in New Zealand (and the rest of the world), but due to the single-child policy in the past, and a continued declining birthrate (according to Maggie, young couples don’t have babies now, they get dogs) there is a dramatically ageing population, and so it is gradually being lifted.From January 1 this year, and over the next 15 years, the retirement age for men is going up from 60 to 63. For women in managerial or technical roles it will go from 55 to 58, and for women in other working roles it will increase from 50 to 55.Over the next few days in Shanghai, we had our own personal tour guide. Maggie made sure we were fed, entertained, and showed us all the things she thought we should see.We explored the maze-like Yu Garden while treated to the scent of the blooming 300-year-old wisteria growing in the grounds, and went up Shanghai Tower - the tallest building in the city. We visited a water town called Zhujiajiao, and strolled around more traditional pedestrian-only streets, while sampling a variety of Chinese “snacks”.While in Zhujiajiao - sort of a Chinese Venice, Maggie was very persuasive in convincing me I needed to have my hair and make-up done, and dress in traditional Chinese Hanfu costume. When I looked for Dan to rescue me, I found him firmly on Maggie’s team.She seemed confused as to why I didn’t want the experience. It is something women and girls treat themselves to occasionally, and includes a session with a professional photographer, before you wander the streets for the rest of the day looking amazing.She dismissed my reservations that those I had seen dressed up all looked good because they were Asian, and had the same coloured hair as the jet-black hairpiece that she wanted attached to my very blonde head.Not to mention it was hot and humid, and I have a tendency to go all pink and “glowy” in these conditions. My list of reasons NOT to do this was very long… but nobody listened to me, Maggie had already paid, and I had to do it anyway.I sat in the makeup chair for a good hour, wearing the costume I had chosen over my regular clothes, sweat dripping down my back.My poor makeup artist, who knew I was hating every minute of it, did her best to make the pale foundation blend into my damp, red face, and the black hairpiece somehow look like it belonged on my head.Once it was photo time, I snapped out of my funk and started enjoying the experience, and looking back on the photos now, I’m glad I’ve got them. It’s definitely a part of the trip I won’t forget. Me, as a reluctant model, dressed up in the water town of Zhujiajiao. Photo: SuppliedI did, however, politely decline wearing the costume for the rest of our time at the village.Another experience which will forever stick with us, is walking to The Bund on Saturday night. We found out later that Saturday is the busiest night to see The Bund - which runs for 1.6km along the western bank of the Huangpu River. It is a mixture of historic and modern buildings - a sort of showcase of Shanghai’s evolution from a fishing village to the modern metropolis it is now - home to 27 million people.It felt like at least a million of those people were in the same place as us that night. Hoards of them were moving towards The Bund up the right-hand side of the street, and more hoards back the other way, across the road.The crowds were strictly controlled by police and their whistles, and apart from a mild panic I might lose the others when someone stood on the back of my jandal and I had to stop, while the wave of people continued on around me, it felt orderly but precarious. I’m glad we didn’t find out until later about the tragedy on New Year’s Eve in 2014, when 36 people died during a stampede which broke out on a stairway taking people from street level up to the viewing platform. Crowd control measures were increased following that event, and 11 officials were "punished", whatever that means.Crowds going to and from The Bund. Photo: Daniel CarsonDan and I had decided if we’d come all the way to China, we really should see more than just Shanghai, and of all things one might visit China for, the Great Wall probably tops the list. Unfortunately, one of the best places to see the Great Wall is just out of Beijing, which is about 1200km from Shanghai.Fortunately, China has really fast trains which travel about 350kph. We left Sunday morning and were there in time for lunch.Beijing is slightly less user-friendly than Shanghai (or maybe it’s because we had lost our personal tour guide!), but in a way, it felt more like real China.We had to have our passports with us at all times, and sometimes we had to show if to officials just so we could move from one part of the city to another. It was also needed for entry to all tourist attractions. In Shanghai, we had been spoiled by Ben and Maggie taking us to all their favourite restaurants each night. In Beijing, the only thing we knew was that we had to try the Beijing Duck. We had been given the name of a couple of duck restaurants to try, and they came with the warning that you couldn’t book, and you would have to wait, sometimes up to three hours, for a table. We went to one and were given a waiting time of two to three hours. Dan, being a man who doesn’t like waiting half a working day for his dinner, decided no duck could be that good, so we didn’t try Beijing Duck in Beijing.On hearing this, Maggie, bless her, arranged for us to try it on our last night in Shanghai before we flew home. It was okay, but whether it was as good as they promised in Beijing, we’ll never know!But The Great Wall. Wow.You hear about how phenomenal it is, but until you see it for yourself, it’s hard to fathom.The Great Wall of China. Photo: Ashley SmythThe wall is more than 21,000km long and was built in a few stints across 2000 years, beginning around 220 BC. Most of it was completed in 15th and 16th Centuries.There are a number of places where you can access the wall. Maggie booked us on a bus to Mutianyu, which is a bit further from Beijing, but because of this, there tend to be fewer people. It didn’t feel like fewer people when we arrived and as we queued, but once we got onto the wall via a quick gondola ride, we had plenty of space to enjoy the experience and take our time.Queueing is another experience in China. We soon discovered that if you wait patiently in line, after 10 minutes, you tend not to be any further ahead than when you started. People join a queue wherever they like. I guess if you always try to find the end, you could be walking for miles.We got more bolshy at keeping our place in line as the week went on, and I even managed to hold my nerve, queueing for the wall, against a small child who kept kicking the backs of my legs, in that tender spot just above the shoe, to try and get past me to get to the gondola.I kept waiting for his mother to tell him off, but I suspect she was quietly encouraging it, hoping I would let them pass.The wall made me grateful for smartphones and digital photography. Each spot we reached felt more photogenic, and we took so many photos. We even FaceTimed our children from the wall - so their minds could be blown too. It takes a lot to impress kids these days, but I think they were impressed.For a country run under a dictatorship, it struck us both how amazingly carefree and uninhibited Chinese people are. A work colleague who has also visited said it feels like "the most benign dictatorship”, and that sums it up perfectly, for me anyway.Admittedly, we only had a surface-level, week-long experience, but I always felt safe. I’ve been to several countries where I would be reluctant to travel alone as a woman - China is not one of them. If it’s not on your list of “must-visit” countries, consider adding it. You won’t be disappointed. A more traditional part of Shanghai that Maggie took us to on our first day. Photo: Ashley Smyth