The first thing I discovered in Zhengzhou was that I would have to learn how to use a steamer.

The apartment was supposed to have a microwave and a stove, but guess what, it didn’t. I didn’t care much about the stove. Like millions of Chinese, we don’t cook, we get takeout. However, we did need a microwave because we tend to grab whatever we like and eat it later at night—especially me, since I work first and eat after, typically very late at night.

“Wéibō?”

“Yes, a microwave.”

Feng started to explain the concept to the guy who led us to the apartment.

“But how do you warm up food?”

“In a steamer. I can lend you one.”

I said yes to the steamer because China isn’t a country where you can survive on cold food. This is not France, where quiche and sandwiches can be dinner. Chinese food is meant to be eaten hot.

I’m happy to report that I now master steaming baozi and heating up noodles in a bain-marie. I mean, it’s a French word. Shame on me for not knowing exactly what it involved.

We took the steamer, unpacked and went out.

We had no idea where we were.

Well, yes, Zhengzhou. And yes, two subway stops from the train station.

But where should we go to find food, shops, and more?

Feng launched Baidu, I tapped on the Google Maps app, Mark started to complain he was hungry.

Baidu wasn’t very helpful, and Google Maps was even worse—the Google street view car clearly hasn’t been in China for ages, quite logically, I suppose, since Google is officially blocked (online and possibly at the border).

Never mind. We picked a direction and started walking.

I had a “Baseline and Merivale” Ottawa suburbia feeling—straight endless streets, tall buildings on both sides, no shops.

“What the hell?”

Eventually, we stumbled upon an office building with a Luckin Coffee and a bakery next door.

We bought iced coffee and two egg tarts.

We resumed walking.

A block further, we spotted a guy selling bananas on the sidewalk. Obviously, we bought bananas.

And once again, we resumed walking, going apparently nowhere, but collecting food along the way.

I bought little madeleine-like cakes—I was addicted to them in Shenyang last year.

The guys bought ice cream bars.

I was utterly lost.

“Didn’t we turn left at the watermelon truck?”

“It was another watermelon truck.”

“Two blocks down? It wasn’t watermelons, it was apples. No, I’m talking about the big intersection with the big watermelon truck…”

“We turned right at the watermelon truck.”

And this went on for about two hours until we found the mall and the lively streets, full of fun shops, eateries and people.

Phew.

Lesson learned, Zhengzhou is huge and very spread out.

The next day, we decided to explore the city centre. We assumed it was the Erqi Square and Erqi Tower, named after the Beijing-Hankou railway worker strike on February 7 (“Er qi”), 1923. Then we visited the free museum, where we learned all about the strike, unions, and…

“Just remember that we are the cruel imperialists, Mark.”

I mean, historically we were.

We went down to the underground shopping mall, mostly to escape from the heat, and then we walked around the Ruyi Lake.

Exploring a new city is a treat. I love getting lost and trying to figure things out.