Like lots of children, I was dragged around lots of museums by my parents. History museums were my least favourite – lots of pictures of events which meant nothing to me – World War I, World War II, ration books, photos of The Beatles, countless things I had no interest in.
Imagine then how old I felt today when I went to the Powerstation for Art and found my teenage years on show on the fifth floor. Punk – imagine – an exhibition about Punk. My sister was a punk and her wardrobe looked just like the one in the museum. Johnny Rotten, Debbie Harry, The Clash… I remember it all like it was yesterday and yet here it was in a museum with young Shanghainese looking at it curiously, posing for a photo next to a giant picture of Johnny Rotten.
This is on the site of the Expo on this side of the river. Just look upwards and if you see a tall chimney that's the place to walk to.