There’s a magic to bookshops. Those that are familiar and those of unknown cities with books in languages you cannot read, hidden down twisting back streets. The books hold within their pages the thoughts and knowledge of another. Written testament to their experience and imagination to be passed down. Human history and the world around us secured in ink upon paper, and entire new worlds created within books. A physically manifestation of the oldest human quality, to tell stories.
Exploring bookshops while travelling is a wonderful way to get an insight into a city. The style and atmosphere says so much about the life of the surrounding city especially smaller independent shops. A place to ask questions and gain insight.
Some become familiar and in a city I know like an old friend lies just such a bookshop.