Hot junk
(Junk market: Shanghai)
This is the same market from which we acquired some, well, junk. The wonderful thing about markets like these is the pitches from the stallholders; the pigeon English, to tempt the white girl, the calling of prices, the invitation to name your budget and the grinning. I imagine I am a prime customer and I am targeted accordingly with the loudest shouting and the waving of produce as close to my eyes as possible.
I like this image because it has a community aspect; nobody seems to be in a rush to do anything at all – it is too hot to even attempt a day of work. The men in the foreground are lightly fanning themselves, whilst their compatriot has all but stripped in the almost painful temperatures. The high rise behind the cyclist is the periphery of a modern, tourist-oriented area that we escaped as soon as we could. An ice cream was just shy of £4 equivalent.
It is interesting to note that nobody is working on a tan. I think many people were surprised upon my return to the UK that I was not brown; I spend as little time in the sun as I can, simply because after five minutes, it is unbearable and I would be rendered a gasping heap on the ground after ten. I am not a fan of sunbathing under normal British circumstances, but I defy anybody to claim the sun in China is pleasant and to spend all day in it without complaint.
