I Always Find a Bookstore
When I am alone and don’t know what else to do I drift back to books.
In Aix-en-Provence, books seemed to earn more of a place my mind. When alone and wondering what to do with myself for a few hours, I usually ended up in Book in Bar, a small bookshop on the other side of the Cours Mirabeau.
I found out about after posting one my first photos about being in Aix. One of the girls who posts photos of book on Instagram commented on the photo of Provence rooftops:
“That’s my hometown! I hope you enjoy Aix-en-Provence! (also there’s a cute bookshop there, it’s called Book in Bar) :)”
Book in Bar’s Instagram page then commented back.
“Thanks for recommending us!”
I made it my mission to get to there from that comment onward. When I did, I was in my happy place. All English books I found myself at home to sit on the floor and page through novels, even asking for when another shipment of another book I was waiting for may come in to one of the woman at the register who spoke both French and English. Books curve around walls and are organized by genre and author and I could spend all day there just leafing through the pages. Sometimes I almost did. I think this because I began notice certain things...Yes, I took notes on them.
For one, the boxes of new book shipments are massive. Sometimes the sales people pretend not to see them so that they don’t have to mark and call each person who may have put one of the books (like me) on reserve.
Another thing? A woman and small, most likely elementary school, boy come in every few days that I am also there. They purchase a muffin and maybe some orange juice before practicing English over the boy’s preferred French.
There are many notes upstairs for people seeking others to practice French or English with. Few are answered.
The one saleswoman only nods at me when I come in rather than cheerfully saying “Bonjour!” as she used to. I think my presence has been noted.
The romance books are hidden within the Young Adult book section. Sadly there is a very small selection of both.
People, usually tourists, fear talking in English and try not to whenever possible in case they are found out that they can actually read the books being sold in the bookstore. Gasp!
They sell Granta Literary Magazine in the short stories section though it comes with a hefty price tag. I feel betrayed.
I come to realization as I sit in the store that I would totally take a job here if they offered me one.
No one eats the cake on the menu. It just sits on its little cake pedestal next to that long begotten cookie all day until it looks more crumbly and dry than appetizing.
In Aix-en-Provence, books seemed to earn more of a place my mind. When alone and wondering what to do with myself for a few hours, I usually ended up in Book in Bar, a small bookshop on the other side of the Cours Mirabeau.
I found out about after posting one my first photos about being in Aix. One of the girls who posts photos of book on Instagram commented on the photo of Provence rooftops:
“That’s my hometown! I hope you enjoy Aix-en-Provence! (also there’s a cute bookshop there, it’s called Book in Bar) :)”
Book in Bar’s Instagram page then commented back.
“Thanks for recommending us!”
I made it my mission to get to there from that comment onward. When I did, I was in my happy place. All English books I found myself at home to sit on the floor and page through novels, even asking for when another shipment of another book I was waiting for may come in to one of the woman at the register who spoke both French and English. Books curve around walls and are organized by genre and author and I could spend all day there just leafing through the pages. Sometimes I almost did. I think this because I began notice certain things...Yes, I took notes on them.
For one, the boxes of new book shipments are massive. Sometimes the sales people pretend not to see them so that they don’t have to mark and call each person who may have put one of the books (like me) on reserve.
Another thing? A woman and small, most likely elementary school, boy come in every few days that I am also there. They purchase a muffin and maybe some orange juice before practicing English over the boy’s preferred French.
There are many notes upstairs for people seeking others to practice French or English with. Few are answered.
The one saleswoman only nods at me when I come in rather than cheerfully saying “Bonjour!” as she used to. I think my presence has been noted.
The romance books are hidden within the Young Adult book section. Sadly there is a very small selection of both.
People, usually tourists, fear talking in English and try not to whenever possible in case they are found out that they can actually read the books being sold in the bookstore. Gasp!
They sell Granta Literary Magazine in the short stories section though it comes with a hefty price tag. I feel betrayed.
I come to realization as I sit in the store that I would totally take a job here if they offered me one.
No one eats the cake on the menu. It just sits on its little cake pedestal next to that long begotten cookie all day until it looks more crumbly and dry than appetizing.
But it is a beautiful little bookstore here in Aix. I love it.
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