PLANS: Shopping in Hay on Wye
I did say that my posting would be sporadic in this journal! I'll start off by linking to a rather wonderful post, to read perchance to dream, which urges us to marvel at books
This weekend, I'm hoping to go on a day trip to Hay on Wye, which is a fabulous village on the Welsh side of the border between England and Wales that mainly sells second-hand books. I am trying to set myself a realistic budget - I had a peek at some of the prices for books I might like to buy and had to revise my early plans: same budget, less books. I discovered that I could blow my whole budget (for bookshopping and sustenance) on a single copy of a first edition of an Abbey Girls book that I don't have. Then I'd have to train myself not to eat or drink in its vicinity. Or breathe. And I should possibly buy special gloves, which seems a little extreme. It's the portability, the clutchability and grab up and pick down-ability of a book, so that I can get to the story that matters to me, and so coming up against the second-hand market proper is always a shock. It was interesting to see the going rate for some of the books that I have (with added occasional coffee stain to decrease the value).
When I've told people that I'm going to Hay, a lot have asked if it's for the festival, but for me, that appeals far less than simply walking around from shop to shop and letting myself enjoy the serendipity of the experience that second-hand bookshops provide. (Charity shops provide it too, only cheaper.) While I certainly appreciate the way that online stores allow you to find very specific requirements (great for reading an older series in order, for example), the experience of walking into a shop and finding something unexpected on its shelves, attracted by the title or the cover, intrigued by the blurb or tempted by the price, is something else altogether. Going to Hay, where I'm unlikely to get a bargain in the mercenary sense, though I might get a great story in a tatty, cheap, copy, is more rarefied and intense than going anywhere else; it's a chocolate factory, not a chocolate shop, as it were. I've only been there once, and remember it as a jaw-dropping, fun, but frustrating experience on a pocket money budget, and it may be, oh another 12 years or so before I go again, but I'm really looking forward, and hoping to get some books that I'll end up reviewing here.
This weekend, I'm hoping to go on a day trip to Hay on Wye, which is a fabulous village on the Welsh side of the border between England and Wales that mainly sells second-hand books. I am trying to set myself a realistic budget - I had a peek at some of the prices for books I might like to buy and had to revise my early plans: same budget, less books. I discovered that I could blow my whole budget (for bookshopping and sustenance) on a single copy of a first edition of an Abbey Girls book that I don't have. Then I'd have to train myself not to eat or drink in its vicinity. Or breathe. And I should possibly buy special gloves, which seems a little extreme. It's the portability, the clutchability and grab up and pick down-ability of a book, so that I can get to the story that matters to me, and so coming up against the second-hand market proper is always a shock. It was interesting to see the going rate for some of the books that I have (with added occasional coffee stain to decrease the value).
When I've told people that I'm going to Hay, a lot have asked if it's for the festival, but for me, that appeals far less than simply walking around from shop to shop and letting myself enjoy the serendipity of the experience that second-hand bookshops provide. (Charity shops provide it too, only cheaper.) While I certainly appreciate the way that online stores allow you to find very specific requirements (great for reading an older series in order, for example), the experience of walking into a shop and finding something unexpected on its shelves, attracted by the title or the cover, intrigued by the blurb or tempted by the price, is something else altogether. Going to Hay, where I'm unlikely to get a bargain in the mercenary sense, though I might get a great story in a tatty, cheap, copy, is more rarefied and intense than going anywhere else; it's a chocolate factory, not a chocolate shop, as it were. I've only been there once, and remember it as a jaw-dropping, fun, but frustrating experience on a pocket money budget, and it may be, oh another 12 years or so before I go again, but I'm really looking forward, and hoping to get some books that I'll end up reviewing here.