Books from my Travels
Selections and bookshop recommendations from Kinsale, Edinburgh, Blairgowrie, Birnam, Rochester and Dublin.
When I travel, I love almost nothing more than wandering into a local bookshop and bringing one (or several) books home with me. The smaller and wonkier the shop, the better. Like so many people, I can spend hours dawdling in a bookstore. I love books, deeply. I keep teetering stacks on my bedside, and we had five tall shelves worth (and then some) shipped over from the US to Zürich when we made the move.
Some, I would never dare part with. Once, years ago, a friend gave my very cherished, special edition copy of Lolita by Nabokov (I had bought in Paris) to another friend to read—without asking me. Although it was lent in a generous spirit, I nevertheless was somewhat appalled, caused quite a stir, and insisted on them getting it back toot sweet! I was worried, very worried, that I would never see it again. The sight of it’s die-cut hard cover took me straight back to that solo trip to the city of lights and held very strong memories for me. Also, obviously it is a classic. For me this wasn’t merely a book to be read, but an objet d’art that I would keep in my home forever. It was far too special to just be lent out willy nilly. In the end, I did get the book back, and I don’t regret being more than a little selfish about it, even today. Perhaps I should be? It is after all, just a book. And they are meant to be shared. But that particular one is quite special to me. And whether you nodded in agreement, or silently scoffed with indignation at the above anecdote, I’ve at least illustrated my foolhardy yet dogged devotion.
So, the past several months saw me traveling to a few very bookish places (hello, Dublin!) where I knew I would find some treasures. I’ve said something about it before, but living in a country with a different language than your own (x3 in Switzerland) leads to stuffing your suitcases with books in places other than home, and finding creative ways to lug them back.
First up, is a mix of new and used selections I gathered in Kinsale, Ireland where we visited Bookstór & Prim’s Bookshop. Prim’s was especially tiny, quirky, and cozy with really good coffee, and stylish customers talking about going for a swim in the frigid sea. Since I wanted to be cool like them, I also bought a tote. The used children’s books were purchased here, as was Common Sea-Weeds. Peck Peck Peck is especially delightful.
In the Perthshire town of Blairgowrie, I had a friendly chat with the owner of Adventure Into Books, during which he recommended the latest from Antoine Laurain, who’s name I recognized. It was an enjoyable, diverting little story. In the Bruntsfield neighborhood of Edinburgh, we found The Gruffalo for Edith—a true classic that lives up to its high esteem—and another slim but powerful Claire Keegan short story collection (not pictured), at Edinburgh Bookshop. It was much more charming than its generic name might suggest. Also in Edinburgh, I insisted on stopping by the legendary Topping & Co., because not doing so while in the storied city would have been a true pity. I was impressed by how they individually cello-wrap the signed and first editions. Such care and thoughtfulness. Also they had a ton of rare books locked up in pretty wooden cases, and multiple floors to browse. It was reliably busy inside, and hard to leave quickly. But, we were driving up to the Highlands that afternoon, and had to keep our time brief. With the latest from Max Porter, Kate Atkinson, and Deboroah Levy* clutched in my arms, we made our exit.
*August Blue not pictured because I already read it and gave it away. It was an interesting read but not a keeper for me.
In the tiny town of Birnam (a stone’s throw from Dunkeld) is the delightful Birnam Reader, where the owner made me a terrific cappuccino. Edie and Andy played in one corner while I browsed. I ended up with a cute children’s picture book about a cat who travels to Venice from the self-publishing arm of a little outfit in Cardiff, Candy Jar Books. Raise your hand if you have a book from this publisher.
While staying in Dunkeld, I decided to buy Flora Sheddon’s Supper. I already own Aran (her first cookbook) and really loved the feeling her writing and recipes evoke. I bought it at Lòn Store down the road from the bakery, where I also found the bread knife of my dreams. I haven’t cooked from Supper yet, but I have used the knife a ton.
Tom Lake by Ann Patchett and Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson were both chosen at the massive Barnes & Noble in Rochester, NY, where I browsed with zero agenda, and let the books speak to me. It feels very American—huge, commercial, accommodating, and overtly friendly—compared to all the others in this roundup. But honestly, you can find just about anything you desire at this B&N along with lots of kids toys, games, international magazines, and stationery galore. It’s where I also found Uncommon Kitchens, a design book (that I wrote about here), which had been on my list for ages. If you’re looking for just about any novel you can imagine written in english, rarities excepted, it is probably in their stacks. I doff my hat to this Barnes & Noble which seemed to be thriving despite the looming Goliath shadow of Amazon. I’d still recommend an independent bookstore with a robust online business over them, but this one served us fine.
In Dublin, I only picked up a few books, but all three were meticulously chosen and proved excellent. There’s something ultimately satisfying about the sacrifice of limiting yourself to just one book, when so many beckon. But that’s what I did at Books Upstairs, a sweet and well-loved bookstore in central Dublin, when I took away A Year’s Turning by Michael Viney and I’m so very glad I did. I had a few hours to myself on that trip and I dove right into this outstanding memoir from one of Ireland’s greats, who I’d not known of before. I’m still reading it and savoring every descriptive passage. If you’re as into nature writing as I am, definitely pick this one up. It is lush, exquisitely detailed, and paints an enveloping picture of life at a remote, rural Irish cottage, surrounded by stern farmland and the unrelenting sea. They also have really good totes at the shop, and a cozy cafe upstairs.
At The Library Project, I immediately found a darling book for Edie called The Tree Next Door with a sweet message about neighborly togetherness, community and the importance of gardens. I also could not resist taking home a striking tome by a photographer I have long admired, Leila Jefferys. Gorgeously published by Atelier EXB it’s a special coffee table book to be admired as much for the color photographs inside, as the vibrant linen cover and superb design outside. Featuring obscure and limited print run, mostly photography books, The Library Project is a really unique book shop worth visiting.
So that’s where I visited and what I took home from several recent trips. These books are all in the vicinity of my nightstand more or less, to dip into whenever the mood strikes. Or when Edie is asleep. Have you read any of them? Are you also someone who likes to find books on trips as a souvenir of sorts?
In closing, I’ll leave you with the aforementioned copy of Lolita, for you to admire and decide for yourself if my uncharitable behavior was justified.
Do you have a beloved bookshop you found while traveling, and that you have returned to again and again? For me in London it’s Daunt Books (everyone’s favorite) and London Review Bookshop , and in Berlin Do You Read Me?! Tell me what I should add to my must visit list.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention my other very favorite bookstores you should definitely visit, and/or shop from online, The Booksmith (their newsletter and programming is amazing) and Point Reyes Books (for an incredible selection of nature writing and local interest books).