Old Paris

Tucked away in a seemingly forgotten crook of Guangzhou sits the old Perry’s Cafe, a meeting place for the expats and foreign travellers. It’s a wonder this place is so crowded given its obscurity. I follow the tiny paper flags that are draped across the open room and glaze over the mass of displaced souls. People from every corner of the world are gathered here on benches; taps of cheap alcohol flow fast. The lighting seeps dimly through a gaze of cigarette and hookah smoke and most other senses are drowned out by the constant loud chatter. Every wall is inked with the names of others who have passed through this pub. Because of a misunderstanding caused by foreign accents, I thought I was going to a bar called Old Paris (our group having visited the new Perry’s bar the night before). I suppose you can imagine my slight disappointment caused by misplaced expectations. It wasn’t my scene, but sometimes you find yourself being a supporting actor.