“Oh, sorry. Excuse me. Let me just … yes, I’ll move this way. Oh, my bad, sorry, I’m in the way again.”

Newham Bookshop is one of those charmed stores that combines an incredible amount of books with many people visiting the store; sometimes to buy books, sometimes to chat, sometimes for a cup of tea or to show a new-born child (the baby stroller was perhaps wisely left outside the store, so that we all in stead crowded the door to be able to look into it, while Vivian and the mother chatted about the difficulties of reading while pregnant).

Newham Bookshop has been serving their community for 37 years. “We’ve got quite a lot immigrants from Eastern Europe at the moment, so the classics are going very well. Many have read Dostoyevski in Russian and are now determined to do it in English” (note: I have to get going on the Dostoyevski-project again). “You need to be open and friendly when people come to the store, making them feel at home, but we also take our books out to different events.”

What’s the best part?
“Oh, the people. Definitely the people. I could retire, you know, but I like meeting people. Hello there, yes, we have it [West ham book]. It’s right in front of you. No, little to the right. A bit more to the right. There you have it.” To us: “West Ham is big around here, of course. And now they’re moving.”
Woman: “Such a shame.”
Me: “Oh, excuse me, sorry, let me just move this way … no, maybe here .. yes, sorry again.”
Woman: “It’s for my husband. Thanks.”
Me: “Sorry. Yes. I’m in the way again.”

The reason I was in the way was, of course, because most of the available space was taken up with books. Piles and piles of them. “Yes, we have it … John, do you know where it is? Didn’t we see it just the other day?” She apologized for the mess of course, and recommended us to take a photo in front of one of the more organized shelves, and even then she commented on the piles of books in front of it.

Me, I prefer the piles. Oh, there is a definite charm in the large, organized bookshop as well, but chaos! Chaos, too, created by books and people, surely that is even more charming? Anyone can handle order, but it takes a real booklover to handle piles of books.

“This is exactly what I want my living room to look like!” I told Louise.
“You might want to run that by your sister”, she said.

I think a better plan is to just simply not tell her. The books from my epic UK-bookshop-tour will arrive eventually, and she’ll come home from work one day to find our apartment looking like this: