The folks behind the Xiao Nan Guo chain of Shanghainese restaurants and day spas are now trying their hand at the luxury hotel business with the WH Ming. It's a property on the edge of Huangxing Park out in far-flung Yangpu District. It's your typical five-star operation with all the standard amenities. You know, conference facilities, a gym, a pool, a spa. Oh, and the power of time travel. That's right, Hyatt. You can keep your crappy properties in Shanghai's two tallest skyscrapers. Oh, and Peace Hotel, no once cares about your heritage architecture and your legacy with Victor Sassoon. Peninsula? Your fleet of green Rolls Royces? Pshaw! We're going back in time. So. Time circuits on, Flux Capacitor... fluxing, engine running, all right... Our journey begins here, deep in the fabric of time. Yes. This is what it looks like. Probably the one thing that all of those sci-fi movies of the 50s envisioned correctly. Go figure. It's a dark and foreboding thoroughfare full of portals that link you to every possible plot on the space-time continuum. The first portal on the right will take you to the signing of the Magna Carta. Wanna see Caesar cross the Rubicon? Second on the left. Avoid that third one on the right, though -- Morlocks. At the end of the corridor the whispy apparition of an imperial courtier awaits, beckoning you to the first stop: Qing Dynasty-era Shanghai. Furnishings are spare and simple, so as not to distract from the living mural on the wall. It's a roughly 10-minute animated video loop of a bustling Qing metropolis. It covers everything -- buskers performing acrobatic tricks in the streets; children tormenting waterfowl and other livestock; a visit to a Mandarin's audience chamber. While you're watching, you can have a little nosh. Here's a good place to start... Hua juan (花卷), a common street snack. It's simple, really -- steamed bread braided up with chopped scallions. For something a little sweeter, there's this little steamed treat... This is called zhuang yuan gao (状元糕) or, as they translate it, "plum blossom steamed cake." Don't let the Hostess Snowball facade fool you. It's not as sickeningly sweet as it looks. It's light, delicate and, if memory serves, stuffed with a little pat of red bean paste (don't quote me on that). The holographic revolving doors to the right transport us to the next stop... Bailemen, "The Gate of 100 Pleasures." The current incarnation of this famed landmark, having given way to janky commercial club music, lasers and smoke machines, is but a pale shadow of its former glory. Here we see Shanghai in its heady heyday, when jazz was hot, dope was king and Triad kingpin "Big Ears" Du Yuesheng owned the city. Ironically, not a squirt of alcohol is available in this den of iniquity. But you can order a "WHM Specialty" (ginger ale, lime juice, fresh mint leaves) or a "Love of WHM" (pineapple juice, soda water, simply syrup). Both sound refreshing. No? Next, dig this. A mock up of Xintiandi. Only they've replaced the crappy night clubs and overpriced restaurants with old-timey Chinese stuff like this outdoor grooming station... This manual washing machine... These smokes... And this bamboo al fresco dinette... ...Which, by the way, is a perfect place to sit down to a piping hot bowl of pork wontons and a side of youtiao. Then, we take a great leap forward to the halcyon days of The Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution. It was a time of unalloyed patriotism, of unmitigated fervor for the cause of Socialism. It was a time when you knew what you stood for, when you knew that organizations like the Shanghai First People's Manufacturing and Fabricating Workers' Study Group were the true beacon of the revolution -- not those revisionist, capitalist-roaders over at the Shanghai First People's Industry and Manufacturing Laborers' Study Group. Those guys were a bunch of jerks. Here we see a faithful recreation of the communal mess hall, a hallmark of the era. The hotel has updated the furnishings a touch with Formica table tops and folding chairs with vinyl cushions. Something tells me accommodations weren't quite so plush as this back in those days. Nevertheless, they've captured that stark, nihilistic institutional feel that so characterizes this time in history rather nicely. Don't you think? There's even a glass display case full of revolutionary tchotchkes like this little commemorative porcelain bust of Mao. ...And here are three giants upon whose shoulders he stood. Of course, the space wouldn't be complete without some chest-pounding, anti-Imperialist agitprop. Translation: "The American invaders must be defeated." Menu offerings are, likewise, more plentiful than what the average member of the Red Guard would have likely enjoyed. These noodles in superior broth show particularly well... ...Oh, and if you're a guest at the hotel and you happen to have a struggle session with hunger, the mess hall is open daily from noon to midnight. Good to know! And this brings us to our final stop: Shanghai, present day. Basically, it's the Bund minus the pan-handlers and the souvenir peddlers. So is The Culinary Time Tunnel worth it? Sure. Why not? Yes, there is a total cheese factor. That's the draw. It's weird -- weird in a way that only Shanghai, with its new found excesses of wealth, can be. If you're not a hotel guest, you have a couple of options for admission. You can get a spa treatment. This will cost about as much as you'd expect in a high-end hotel -- anywhere from 390rmb for an hour of cupping therapy to 880rmb for two hours of lomi lomi massage. After the spa treatment you're then free to wander through the Culinary Time Tunnel, eating what you like. We're pretty sure you're meant to do this in your bathrobe, adding an extra surreal dimension to the experience. Or, you can just pay 218rmb for basic admission. This gets you access to the jacuzzi and saunas on the floor above, then you can wander through the time tunnel, grazing on all the food you care to eat. Either way, you can basically hang out as long as you want. You know, eat, have a schvitz and travel through time all day long. Considering the god awful weather we've been having, you could certainly do worse things with a cold, overcast Saturday afternoon.