Shanghai rising

'Life in Shanghai was lived wholly within an intense present,' wrote JG Ballard in his childhood memoir, Empire of the Sun, about growing up in the war-torn city in the 1930s and 1940s. Arriving on the Bund, Ballard-style, in a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce, with the war over, Mao long dead, and the Communists open for business, I expected things to have calmed down by now. But there was a gigantic throng on the historic waterfront. 'Everybody from all over China is here for the Expo,' said the driver in broken English as we passed the banks and consulates on the left and the Huangpu river on the right. Sure enough, the local newspaper confirmed that 800,000 visitors, 99.9 per cent

An estimated £28 billion was spent on Expo (the most popular ever), about £8 billion more than Beijing's Olympics (the most expensive ever) cost two years ago. Part of the investment was used to reduce the Bund's 11 lanes to six (funnelling most of the traffic underground), allowing for a wide riverside promenade where people can bustle – the Chinese national pastime. And no trip to Shanghai is complete without a bit of bustling on the Bund, taking in the thrusting Pudong skyline, the symbolic heart of the world's fastest- growing economy.

So what better start to the trip than a dinner of spicy Schezuan chicken at the top of Pudong's
tallest building (albeit only the world's third tallest), ambitiously called the World Financial Center – which it hopes to become over the next few years. Avoiding the queues for the top-floor viewing platform, we entered around the back where a lift takes you up to the Park Hyatt's 91st-floor restaurant in the base of the trapezoidal hole of the giant bottle-opener-shaped building. From the restaurant, the frenzied Bund is reduced to a trickle of amber, like a radioactive ant trail, but I was in a good position to inspect the new tower being built next door, set to topple Dubai's Burj Khalifa off the world's top spot when it opens in 2012, much to the delight of the government.

We were staying at The Peninsula, the first new building on the Bund in 60 years, where porters
scuttle around in white Nehru jackets and bellboy hats, polishing every last block of black marble laid by Pierre-Yves Rochon, the Frenchman who has
just done up The Savoy and the about-to-open Four
Seasons in London. The highlight is the white-
pillared lobby, best enjoyed during afternoon tea when smoked salmon finger sandwiches and scones arrive on tiered trays and a string quartet plays 'Chim chiminey' in the minstrels' gallery. Although the music, not to mention the cream tea, was lost on the predominantly Chinese guests who prefer dumplings and loud chitchat, even at breakfast.

What they do love is a designer label. China is the world's second largest luxury market and the only one left untouched by the global recession. At Expo, Chanel, Versace and Prada all took stands and the Qatari royal family is considering opening up a Shanghai branch of Harrods. I noticed that the boutiques weren't exactly swarming with buyers, perhaps because each of the many malls has its own Gucci and D&G. Although shoppers on the Huai Hai Road queue up to have their photo taken in Louis Vuitton and the other flagships, which dwarf anything on Sloane Street.
Navigating Shanghai, a city of 19 million people, takes some doing. After the Opium Wars in the mid-19th century, Britain, France and America carved up the city into concessions: small international settlements with their own police forces. By the 1920s it was in its colonial heyday, known by day as the Paris of the East, due to the proliferation of Beaux-Arts-style buildings, and by night as the Whore of the Orient, thanks to the clubs and casinos and the concubines who frequented them.

Keen to steer clear of the touristy nightspots of the Bund, we headed across town to the French Concession where the 1920s and 1930s villas around which Ballard used to ride his bicycle have been converted into restaurants and bars, retaining some of the grandeur of colonial times. We started at Yongfoo Elite, a bar in the former British consulate site, where there's a mishmash of mahogany furniture and traditional Chinese paintings, as well as green crystal chandeliers, elaborate silk wallpaper and a huge garden worthy of an ambassador's reception. After that we nipped around the corner to Constellation, which is the size of a living room with bow-tied 1920s throwbacks making Mai Tais in front of an Art Deco mirrored bar. It was here we were told to head to the Monkey Bar, the city's nod to the global speakeasy trend set by Milk & Honey in London and PDT in New York. The waiter drew the directions on a napkin because, like any good speakeasy, half the fun is finding it. Down a dimly lit back alley we found a black door with a monkey-shaped knocker. Inside were immaculately groomed expats, lounging on banquets and drinking whisky sours. Were it not for Kanye West on the sound system, it could have been the 1920s all over again.

THE PENINSULA
Our grand deluxe suite was triple the size of my top-floor two-bed in W9. The bedside control panel opened the blinds to an incredible view of the Pudong skyline. The iPhone dock piped The xx through the whole suite, there was a printer for digital photos and even a nail dryer built into the wall. At the ESPA spa I had a back and shoulder massage, which involved the masseuse climbing on top of me, leaning back while I clung on to her wrists (amazing!), leaving me supple and stretched. Afterwards I cooled off in the glass-domed pool (left). A bespoke four-night stay including breakfast at The Peninsula
with The Ultimate Travel Company (020 7386 3636; theultimatetravelcompany.co.uk) costs from £1, 250 per person. The price includes flights from London with Virgin Atlantic and private transfers. A Rolls-Royce to collect you from the airport starts at £100, organised through the hotel.