Editor's Note: This is Part 1 of the six-part Yangtze diaries series based on journalist Erik Nilsson's recent 35-day, 2,000-kilometer journey to 11 cities to discover how the Yangtze River Economic Belt has transformed over the 40 years since the reform and opening-up.

Shanghai's skyscrapers and auto industry bear testimony to how the reform and opening-up have transformed the metropolis and surrounding cities. Erik Nilsson explores its development as the starting point of a 2,000-kilometer journey along the Yangtze River Economic Belt.

I was almost run over by a robot in a car factory in Shanghai. Indeed, I suddenly found myself in the path of an automated machine that whizzes along a track on a Volkswagen plant's floor to move auto parts from one place to another.

I am, in fact, not an auto part. So, I jumped out of the way－just in the nick of time.

But the experience highlights how the sector is advancing, in no small part because of increasing automation.

I was touring the Volkswagen factory in Shanghai to learn about how the city's auto industry has accelerated in the past 40 years.

The visit was part of an 11-city, 2,000-kilometer, 35-day journey to discover how the reform and opening-up has transformed the Yangtze River Economic Belt, which accounts for about 40 percent of the country's population and GDP.

Shanghai－the metropolis where the Yangtze empties into the ocean－was a starting point for my journey and for the reform and opening-up along the belt.

The city was also a launch pad for the nation's auto industry and today remains a leader in the sector.

I learned about its latest advancements while riding in a self-driving internet car after speaking with Bao Anrong, a worker who assembled the country's first Volkswagen Santana in the 1980s. It was a milestone at the time.

There was a saying in China then: "You can easily travel around the world in a Santana."

In 1985, a Volkswagen Santana could cost upward of 200,000 yuan, or $30,000. That was an incredible amount for an ordinary Chinese. Bikes were status symbols, and few people could imagine owning a car.

"We domestically produced only three parts when we started our assembly line－tires, radios and antennae," Bao recalls.

"Gradually, we started making more parts－glass, paint, bumper beams, seats and dashboards. It took us three months to produce our first Santana. That's a long time."

Today, the factory where Bao worked－that is, where I was almost hit by the robot－produces about 650 cars a day.

And China now manufactures nearly all of its own automobile parts.

But other aspects of how the reform and opening-up have transformed how people in and around Shanghai get from Point A to Point B became apparent when I visited the country's largest car-production base, Shanghai International Automobile City.

Worker Shen Xiaowen told me that the improved traffic infrastructure enables him to be with his girlfriend, who lives in Jiangsu province's Kunshan city, which is now reachable within half an hour by the highway.

And the reduced travel time between Shanghai and surrounding conurbations also expands the ways in which their development is mutually reinforcing.

"My hometown (Anting) used to be relatively undeveloped," Sun says.

"But it has improved in recent years. It's OK today. I'd certainly like to go back home if the welfare was as good as Shanghai's."

I later rode in the ROEWE Model X, an intelligent, self-driving internet car.

My host, ROEWE's new energy product planning director, Xie Ruiqing, suggested I tell the car, in Chinese: "I'd like to see the stars."

I did. And the moon roof opened.

Then we hit the road.

My host showed me how she could lock the electric car to follow any other vehicle on its own. She didn't need to pull the steering wheel to drive, or tap the brakes or gas to stop, go, slow down or speed up.

I'd read and seen videos about self-driving cars. But this was my first time actually riding in one.

Beyond advancements in Shanghai's auto industry, the city itself has transformed over the past four decades.

It's today known for its futuristic skyscrapers.

But the thickets of such architectural icons as the Jinmao Building, the Oriental Pearl Tower and the Shanghai World Financial Center were rundown clusters of hovels just decades ago.

I spent a day with Wei Gensheng, a former crane operator who worked on constructing the Bund and became a nationally acclaimed photographer for the panoramic pictures he snapped from his crane.

"At that time, there was a saying: 'Even a bunk in Puxi is better than an apartment in Pudong'," Wei recalls.

"In the eyes of Shanghai residents, Pudong was a rural place. There were old-style houses in longdang (traditional alleys). Now, they're modern residential complexes. It's a totally different feel today."

That's perhaps an understatement, by my estimation.

I'd instead say it's at least "unrecognizable"－maybe even "unimaginable".

And that sentiment holds true for many dimensions of the development of Shanghai and surrounding cities since the adoption of the reform and opening-up.

And it seems poised to prove increasingly true in the years to come, as innovation and coordinated development accelerate in the region and throughout the country, especially in the new era.