A Tale of One City
Today I decided to hang spring cleaning and, after waiting for postie and the parcel that didn't come (want my Universal Horrors now) I decided to head out to Rochester and the alleged largest secondhand bookshop in Britain (which Barter Books would dispute). The start wasn't good - apparent the station are experimenting with limiting the opening hours of the ticket office, and someone has ripped out the ticket machine (which doesn't sell you the cheapest available ticket anyway) and there are all these posters threatening to rip out your gonads if you board a train without a ticket.
Then the train was late - but just by three minutes.
Rochester Station actually feels closer to Chavham than Rochester - although as I later reminded myself, it's still a trudge. There's also a lack of sign to get you to cross a road so that you can cross five lanes of traffoc to the main high street. But I got there eventually.
What is striking is the lack of chain stores - this isn't exactly true as there's a couple of Oxfams, a Mind, a Sue Ryder, a Cancer Research and a Banardos, plus banks - but mostly its independent stores: a butcher, a greengrocer or two, several bakeries, clothes and arts shops, and various cafes and delis. Most of them seem to be named after characters from or novels by Dickens, and those that aren't have plaques on them telling you that Edwin Drood lived there. As industries go, it could be worse.
I found a second hand bookshop that I'd forgotten about or was new - there were a pile of classics I was tempted by but resisted, and a couple of Barry Malzbergs and Supernature to add to the seventies pile. It's a shop that tends to the alphabetical, but not necessarily in that order, and was refreshingly free of large piles blocking the shelves (Albion Books you know what I mean).
Then to Baggins Bazaar, which is one of those shop where ou hand over your rucksack in case you make a break for it. The sf is right at the back, on the first floor, and it's a bit of a labyrinth to get there. I contented myself with a pile of Emma Tennants; the New Writings in SF 22 which I may have but isn't with the others was too expensive. I was also tempted by a pile of the sort of early 1970s-style reprnt of Adult Fantasy, the sort of stuff that came from Lin Carter and Ballantine. Resisted, regretfully. I think I got away safely with just £6 spent (four books), but it didn't reduce the list that much. O Ragtime where art thou?
Time to go online, I fear.
I called into a deli for cheese, although the server didn't seem to recognise the name of the cheese which is their ffer of the week in the window, and then down, via a couple of charity shops, to Julian Graves. I do, of course, live in pretty well the only town in Kent without a Julian Graves, and I feel the loss when it comes to dried fruit. Stir up day is clearly upon us soon - but as always I went blank on entering. Mixed fruit and cherries felt a good start for Xmas cake, along with yoghurt bananas and sunflower seeds.
I was lured into a shop to buy a 99, but he was cleaning the machine so no joy. (I think the same thing happened last tome I visited.)
Rather than go straight back, and not having the energy to do the castle, the cathedral* and the river, walked to Chavham. Once there, I failed to buy agar to rescue the jam (too expensive), popped into TK Maxx and CEX, and then made my way hurriedly to Chavham station. A reasonable half day away - but I should do the sights.
* The reason why there is a university in Lincoln is because someone worked out that the best universities in England are in places with castles and cathedrals. Medway campus is perhaps an exception.
Then the train was late - but just by three minutes.
Rochester Station actually feels closer to Chavham than Rochester - although as I later reminded myself, it's still a trudge. There's also a lack of sign to get you to cross a road so that you can cross five lanes of traffoc to the main high street. But I got there eventually.
What is striking is the lack of chain stores - this isn't exactly true as there's a couple of Oxfams, a Mind, a Sue Ryder, a Cancer Research and a Banardos, plus banks - but mostly its independent stores: a butcher, a greengrocer or two, several bakeries, clothes and arts shops, and various cafes and delis. Most of them seem to be named after characters from or novels by Dickens, and those that aren't have plaques on them telling you that Edwin Drood lived there. As industries go, it could be worse.
I found a second hand bookshop that I'd forgotten about or was new - there were a pile of classics I was tempted by but resisted, and a couple of Barry Malzbergs and Supernature to add to the seventies pile. It's a shop that tends to the alphabetical, but not necessarily in that order, and was refreshingly free of large piles blocking the shelves (Albion Books you know what I mean).
Then to Baggins Bazaar, which is one of those shop where ou hand over your rucksack in case you make a break for it. The sf is right at the back, on the first floor, and it's a bit of a labyrinth to get there. I contented myself with a pile of Emma Tennants; the New Writings in SF 22 which I may have but isn't with the others was too expensive. I was also tempted by a pile of the sort of early 1970s-style reprnt of Adult Fantasy, the sort of stuff that came from Lin Carter and Ballantine. Resisted, regretfully. I think I got away safely with just £6 spent (four books), but it didn't reduce the list that much. O Ragtime where art thou?
Time to go online, I fear.
I called into a deli for cheese, although the server didn't seem to recognise the name of the cheese which is their ffer of the week in the window, and then down, via a couple of charity shops, to Julian Graves. I do, of course, live in pretty well the only town in Kent without a Julian Graves, and I feel the loss when it comes to dried fruit. Stir up day is clearly upon us soon - but as always I went blank on entering. Mixed fruit and cherries felt a good start for Xmas cake, along with yoghurt bananas and sunflower seeds.
I was lured into a shop to buy a 99, but he was cleaning the machine so no joy. (I think the same thing happened last tome I visited.)
Rather than go straight back, and not having the energy to do the castle, the cathedral* and the river, walked to Chavham. Once there, I failed to buy agar to rescue the jam (too expensive), popped into TK Maxx and CEX, and then made my way hurriedly to Chavham station. A reasonable half day away - but I should do the sights.
* The reason why there is a university in Lincoln is because someone worked out that the best universities in England are in places with castles and cathedrals. Medway campus is perhaps an exception.