“it is clear that the books owned the shop rather than the other way about. everywhere they had run wild and taken possession of their habitat, breeding and multiplying, and clearly lacking any strong hand to keep them down.”
― agatha christie, the clocks
this is the very best sort of bookshop; filled with stories that span space and time, where old acquaintances wait patiently, wondering if today is the day someone will rediscover them in all their preloved, dog-eared glory. because walking into a bookshop just like this signals the beginning of a special type of journey, one in which we’ll search for buried treasure in a world where the simple act of turning a page becomes less and less common.
because in this little bookshop, tucked in and away from the busy market street outside, a quiet corner can be found in which to stop just for a moment, as we eye up each shelf, crammed with paper jewels in all their still-loved glory. and should i ever find myself in possession of a bigger spending budget, increased luggage allowance and a healthy inclination to carry heavier baggage, i will most definitely always, always become that girl who not only browses, but takes old friends away with me too.
deja vu books
17/77 salamanca place