When I visit a bookshop, I like to visit one with character. One that’s a bit different. A bit eccentric, even.

That’s why I favour Waterstone’s.

Can I give you an example?

Not long ago I went into my local Waterstone’s to get a French book. No special French book. Just a French book. I was off on a trip to France and I wanted to get some of the rust off my French by reading something in French. Anything, really.

‘Got any French books?’ I said.

‘Down there,’ said the man, pointing at a bookshelf.

I had a look. It was all dictionaries and grammars.

‘I don’t mean books about French,’ I said. ‘I mean books in French.’

‘You mean, French books?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t think we’ve got any ... no, hold on. I think we