there's nothing like a really great bookstore

london's daunt books in marylebone oozes with atmosphere. it's quiet and was cool on an otherwise sweltering london day. i only had about 10 minutes to pop in on my way back from lunch with the wonderful beth and kristen (where yes, i made them build lego). there are tables heaped with inspiration for what to read, beautiful papers to select and take home, gorgeous old wooden floors interspersed with tiles, inviting chairs and an enormous curved window. i would love to have spent the rest of my afternoon there. but alas, i didn't. instead, i grabbed, without thinking too much, a few books from the delectable displays, feeling a bit like i was choosing macaroons in a fancy bakery. vasily grossman's an armenian sketchbook, audur ava olafsdottir's butterflies in november and one mistake, a pretentious crime novel called don't point that thing at me by kiril bonfiglioli, which i selected due to an attractive cover and an endorsement on said cover by none other than stephen fry (a mistake i made previously when i bought hugh laurie's atrocious attempt at a novel, but somehow conveniently forgot in the heat of the moment in daunt). the bonfiglioli was an utter waste of time, but i'm 80 pages into the grossman and savoring every word. the icelandic novel waits patiently beside my night table, still full of that mysterious possibility that all books you haven't yet read possess.

i miss bookstores. most of my books these days come from the library (which is awesome, but i do feel guilty writing in their books) or from amazon (mostly work-related), but there is still nothing like browsing a bookstore, especially one as charming as daunt, which i'd oddly never visited before on all my trips to london. it had a library-like hush and atmosphere that i breathed in during the few minutes i was there. the clerk behind the counter, with wrinkled shirt and ruffled hair, looked as if he'd just roused himself from a book to wander over to wait on me. he placed my purchases into a reusable cloth bag (not the green one, i didn't manage spend that much in 10 minutes) and i regretfully went on down the street. we just don't have any bookstores like that in my part of denmark (there are a couple still in copenhagen that fit the description, but i visit them far too seldom) and i miss them. we can do a lot on the internet these days, but there really is nothing like visiting a really great little bookstore.

one person's exotic is another's normal

last weekend, we had a visit from south african bloggy friend tara who blogs at c'est la vie. she's in denmark for a two-week study trip that's part of her business degree. i was pleased when she said she wanted to come a little early and hang out with us for a few days here in the old run-down farmhouse. true to form for something not unlike blog camp, the farmer who has the field across the road sprayed it with poo just in time for her visit. *sigh*

the afternoon she came in, i decided that we had to dash out to the west coast, as it was going to the only remotely nice beachy day to go there. i somehow had it in my head that it was Very Important that she got to touch the north sea. we were glad we did (tho' that water is COLD!), as it was rainy and grey the following days (no suprise there, except perhaps to the danish meteorological institute, who always seem to be surprised by the weather around here). after the beach, we got a giant ice cream and headed home to barbeque on our grill table in the garden while we laughed and told stories and learned a bit of african history too.

tho' i was running around, chasing kittens and tending chickens and bunnies and popping into the kitchen for more wine, i loved hearing tara's story. born raised in zimbabwe, she went off to college in south africa and stayed. she'll be getting married in a couple of months. this trip to denmark was her first big trip abroad. i had to chuckle at that as zimbabwe and south africa strike me as pretty abroad. but it's really a matter of perspective. a little bit like how my sister was born and raised in south dakota, but went to the university of iowa and then stayed in that area after college.

tara's excitement at her trip and the adventures she had exploring copenhagen on her own for a couple of days before coming to visit us and at her weeks of study with a group of other international business students reminded me of my own trip to study in russia when i was about her age. the excitement, the butterflies, the small niggling fears and ultimately the feeling of satisfaction that i was strong and fearless enough to make such a long journey alone. the rush of new impulses and thoughts and experiences - there's nothing like it.

of course, today, via a myriad of social media, i'm able to follow along on her adventures even after she went on to her course and i can tell she's having a great time. it makes me a little bit nostalgic for those old days of studying. yes me, nostalgic, who would have imagined that? but it's a good kind of nostalgia and for that, i'm grateful to live a little bit vicariously through tara's adventures.

so glad you visited us, tara, i look forward to reading your stories as you digest them in the weeks and months ahead.