Two days before I left for England, there was one place left I absolutely had to go. If you read my last blog post, you know I’m a huge book lover. What you may not know is that there is a town just past the border of Wales, dedicated to books. That town is Hay-on-Wye. Inside the town, there is a plethora of new and secondhand bookstores just waiting to be explored. Some of the stores were once cinemas, now converted to shops for us bookworms. Some of the shops are very niche–one dedicated to mysteries, one to poetry–others span all genres and age ranges. On certain times of the year, the town is renowned for their literature festivals. I’m not sure if those festivals ran the past two years, due to covid, and if they did, I wasn’t able to go. Nevertheless, when we crossed the border into Wales with our friends, we were (or, at least, I was) determined to set my foot in every bookshop.
To me, the day was full of successes and happiness. Like a snob, my favorite bookshop was one that sold new books, but mainly because it was the biggest. It should have been running a café, too, but it happened to be closed the day we went. Some of the stores had really cool decorations, like a bat cave to symbolize books for vampires. There were even free book exchanges peppered throughout the town. Showing great self-restraint (again), I only bought three books that day. And I probably went into ten stores. So I’m proud of myself.
After all the shops closed around four, we relaxed near the river and soaked in the August sun. It wouldn’t be long before autumn changed the temperatures, but by that time I would be in America. Still, even with that bittersweet ending, I had a great day. My only complaint were that the public toilets cost 30p to use, which seems to be unsanitary and a punishment to the poor. But that’s a conversation for another day.
Someday I’ll be back in England and maybe I can attend one of those renowned literary festivals!
Adventure is Out There 