Farewell to Sim...

It had been our intention to ride the Yangtze down the Three Gorges, a tedious but beautiful three day boat trip. But the weather is not cooperating. An early winter has brought a lot of rain to the area; coupled with the ever present smog, we are doubtful of our chances of seeing much. And three days on an open boat in a driving rainstorm is no game at all.

And so, we've boarded a plane for the picturesque landscape of Guilin, famed for its pretty river, its enormous caves, and its natives' willingness to eat everything from garden snakes to civet cats. There, one simply does not order the "Special Meat Curry."

Before we arrive, though, we'll cast one last look back at Sichuan. Normally, we don't call out particular establishments, but owing to tragic circumstances, it might be well to bid a final farewell to Sim's Cozy Guesthouse.

This establishment is located in a 100 year old traditional Chinese courtyard house, sandwiched between the rising behemoths of the New China. Next door, an enormous office building is being jackhammered into place. On the other side, a mall is already going great guns. Still, when you're inside, you find a throwback architecture of ponds, gardens and fountains. Passageways turn into staircases that ascend into balconies, with old trees importunately thrusting their trunks through it all to reach the sky.

Like many guesthouses in China, it offers a complete ecosystem for the backpacker lifestyle. There are clean rooms, laundry service, a DVD library, breakfast, lunch, dinner, a place to get sloshed at night, and even friendly attendants willing to listen to piss-drunk 22 year olds from Rotterdam slobber on about their solutions to the world's problems.

Though Nicole and I did not avail ourselves of its services, most did. Its café did a nonstop business selling beer and wine—one older couple seemed to have viewed Sichuan entirely from its Table Number Three, sluicing down a long succession of bottles of Campo Largo. As far as we could tell, they never left.

Sadly, Sim does not own his cozy guesthouse; and property rights are not what they should be in China. Soon its gracefully sloping tile roof will be pulverized to make way for god knows what new concrete monstrosity. For that, we raise a glass to Sim, and wish him the best of luck, wherever his little establishment lands.