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