Stealing an hour while baby Curly Girl sleeps fitfully to slip away to Diva Life on Nanchang Lu. Settling back into soft purple cushions to breathe out my relief through my toes as Hebe buffs, pummels and polishes them new.
The pot luck of supermarket shopping, scouring the shelves for recognisable brands, cornflakes at £5 a packet, UHT milk from Australia our safe choice, exciting fruits and vegetables piled high.
Walking away from the bright lights, glamour and sparkle of Xintiandi along Danshui Lu towards Fuxing Park, the dust in the air enveloping my skin in a cloying shroud.
Hearing the strains of a waltz inside the gates, watching as couples dance into view. Perfectly poised they dip and twirl in an unseen ballroom as they pass tai chi practioners on the grass. The symbolic juxtaposition epitomising Shanghai in all it’s colours.
Later, walking through the lobby of our apartment and feeling the icy cold blast of aircon cooling the sweat on my back. Standing in front of the elevator and using the mirror doors to check if Curly Girl is still asleep in the pram while saying a silent prayer that she is.