The Library Bar

I have once before mentioned on here that one of my favourite hangouts of the past couple of years has been a bar in central Beijing that is also a library (readers with over-active memories may recall that it prompted a comment from a random visitor to the effect that surely the books were at risk of suffering drink-related accidents, viz. being covered in vomit). Indeed, my young companion The Choirboy has taken to calling the place The Library Bar, which is admirably descriptive. Its actual name, however, is The Bookworm - though most of us regulars refer to it more succinctly as The Worm.

It has been going for several years now, but originally the project was just to establish a lending library of secondhand books for the expat community, and it was hosted by a succession of independent bars/restaurants. It changed location a few times; sometimes, I think, losing a significant number of its books along the way (its last partner, re-opened in new premises after a chai [demolition order] on the old, has now mysteriously established a library of its own). However, a while back - in the summer of '05, I think it must have been - The Worm finally established a venue of its very own. And it's a lovely space, large and airy, with a high, high ceiling and glass roof in the main bar area; and a pleasant if somewhat windswept roof garden for the nice days of early summer. A great location, too: right in the middle of the Sanlitun bar district, mid-way between the 2nd and 3rd Ringroads on the fashionable east side of town.

The Worm's formidable proprietress, a British long-time expat called Alex Pearson, claims (just a tad disingenuously, I'm sure) that she's really not interested in the F&B business but is driven by the ideal of creating the sense of a literary salon, a little haven of calm for the beleaguered intellectual in the heart of this hectic, grimy, go-getting city. In addition to the library, it hosts a poetry group, a couple of book clubs, the occasional wine tasting, and frequent book launches and speaker meetings. In the past couple of weeks I have been to see the hip and kooky young German forensic pathologist Mark Benecke (he has a great - not-for-the-squeamish - website) explaining why some people believe in vampires, American amateur 'Buddhologist' Bill Porter recounting stories of his investigations into the continuing hermit tradition in Chinese Buddhism and Daoism, amusing Aussie poet Peter Bukowski (inspired by but no relation to Charles) reading some of his work, and genial Irish raconteur Paddy Barry describing his epic sailing trip around the North Pole (the first ever westerly circumnavigation within the Arctic Circle). Tons of fun.

Central location, cosy environment, and good wi-fi facilities ensure that it is a favourite spot for many people to work, and particularly for Beijing's legion of foreign journalists. And, all in all, it is a great place for randomly bumping into weird and fascinating people, as well as for more targeted networking, or for just running into old friends by happy chance. It's quite uncanny, actually: I have scarcely ever been in there without bumping into at least one person I know; and if there's a popular event on, it's quite likely there'll be at least half a dozen familiar faces I have to chat to. (In fact, sometimes, when I'm in one of my unsociable moods, this becomes a reason for avoiding the place!)

Also, I fear The Worm may be my last chance for meeting a romantic partner, since it boasts such a high traffic of gorgeous foreign women, many of whom are young and single... or not-too-old, and 'available'. (I continue to be stubbornly averse to the local girls, which severely limits my opportunities to find a girlfriend.) Of course, it's a little style-cramping that the place is almost always full of friends, exes, and thwarted crushes of the past....

Yet aside from the social opportunities, the eye-candy, the comfort of the thousands of books lining the walls, the great events, the eye-candy.... it's also a great bar: the decor and atmosphere are a little too bright and swish and modern for my taste, but it's very comfortable, the staff are nice, and the prices are not too high. And they do have by far the best selection of single malts in town. (And back in their first year, they were only about $5 for a hugely generous free-pour - probably a double-measure, at least; quite a bargain! Now, alas, the prices have crept up a bit - they were probably losing money before.) Now that the dry and dusty autumn weather is bringing the annual return of the dreaded 'Beijing Throat', regular doses of this delicious medicine become obligatory.

Enough gushing, Froog! Very well, in the interests of a balanced review, I will say that I find the food is (though alleged by some to have improved a lot recently) disappointing and best avoided: it's overpriced and wildly inconsistent. Also, promptings of the libido aside, I've always been rather wary of places that attract such a predominantly - almost exclusively - expat crowd; I didn't come to live in a foreign country so that I could spend all my time in a protective bubble of pretend-home, insulated from anything Chinese. And these days, the place is in danger of getting just too darned popular for its own good - I looked in there last Sunday afternoon, hoping for a quiet drink and an opportunity to get stuck into my new novel; but it was absolutely heaved out, and far too noisy for me to read there; so I had to head elsewhere instead. Boo!

So, it's not all wonderful with The Bookworm. But I do rather like the place. Hell, I'd be lost without it!

And this, by the way, if you take Froogville and the Barstool together, was my 1,000th post. Time for a celebratory beer, I think....