Wednesday 22 October 2014

Two old ladies go to a bookshop.

It was a grey and drizzly Monday when myself and Lux decided to have a ‘day trip’ to the West End of Glasgow. Essentially anything that requires a train trip then the use of the subway is, for us, a day out. Man, I make us sound like two old ladies who think going on holiday is having a packed lunch in a lay-by off the A38. Ahem. To start off the excitement we head to a different subway station to our usual Buchanan Street and wander down to St Enoch which is undergoing work to make it look all swish and fancy.

The main purpose of our trip is to find a second hand bookshop I was recommended located on Otago Lane. We leave the subway at Hillhead and proceed to wander about vaguely heading in the direction we think we’re meant to be going. That is what is known as ‘bimbling’. Hunger strikes and we quickly go in search of a place in which to eat stuff. Cue ‘Naked Soup’, a place of wonder and... um... soup. You get a lot for very little money and the soup is well tasty innit. This place of soupy greatness can be found on Kersland Street.




Onward.

Actually, take a step back for a moment. Before we reached the glorious place of soupy wondrousness we did what all old ladies do when they come across something unexpectedly and emitted an “oooOOOoooo” sound as we passed the ‘Oran Mor’ arts venue. Ensue a conversation about the good old days when Melody Maker still existed and we’d hear about cool venues but never get to visit them - which wasn’t exactly relevant as according to their facebook page it’s only been going since 2004. I seem to recall we somehow derailed from reminiscing into laughing hysterically about holy testicles. Cough. Moving on.

A tingling sensation can be felt in our bellies, a sign that we must be getting closer to the bookshop, that or there was a bit too much horseradish in the sandwich we had with the soup. Either way, we’re nearly there. We initially head for Otago Lane North, an easy mistake for two doddery old dears like us to make, the ‘NO ENTRY YOU NUMPTIES’ sign might have been a giveaway. A few confused moments looking at our phones, arguing briefly about which way we’re facing and eureka! We find Otago Lane!

It’s a very unassuming lane with some new-ish housing to the left as you enter and what looks like a few rickety workshops. If you didn’t know there was a book shop there you might well miss it all together. We waddle up to the front door of ‘Voltaire & Rousseau’ – named after the French enlightenment writer and 18th Century philosopher – the bookshop title already a hit with Lux. The small entranceway is crammed to the ceiling with books. It takes a little time to work out that there are actually sections written on the book shelves, useful if you can reach past the piles of books in front of said shelves. Closer inspection reveals that these seemingly randomly placed reading items are roughly themed to the corresponding shelving... and this is just the entrance.

The main area of the shop is, well, it’s something else. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. What an utterly magical place it is. Hopes of finding anything specific drift away but it really doesn’t matter. The organised chaos continues - piles upon piles of books cover much of the floor space making browsing a very cosy experience. There’s a glorious musty smell too that only second hand books can provide. Much of the stock is quite old with many a curious title. I ended up purchasing a work on Greek and Roman mythology called ‘The Golden Age Of Myth And Legend’ printed in the 1920’s and given to a young lady at an all girls school who apparently did well at mathematics. I had to do a double take at the price. Less than £3 for a large vintage hardback book? What kind of madness is this? I’ll take everything. They also have a cat which was happily sleeping oblivious to everyone on a stack of books near the counter.

We ended our little jaunt to the West End in a cafe called Offshore on Gibson Street. A nice place with decent coffee and good taste in music. Back into bimbling mode and we begin to head towards Kelvinbridge subway except that we don’t and head totally in the wrong direction. Another few minutes spent looking at our phones (bless ye oh great map of the google) – a quick about turn and it’s back the way we came. Myself and Lux spend the return subway journey reciting the Game Of Thrones ‘Bad Lip Reading’ video, giggling away like two grannies drunk on gin.

As if that wasn’t enough excitement for one day we also popped into ‘Love Music’ on Dundas Street before jumping on our train home. It’s one of those independent record shops that still looks how a record shop should look... and still exists which is the main thing. ‘Love Music’ is much less chaotic than ‘Voltaire & Rousseau’ but still has a lot of charm. I scan over the new releases and spot an album by a friend - Rachel Sermanni: ‘Live In Dawson City’ – I’d convinced myself it was only available online but there it was... in my hand... heading towards the cash desk with me. The lady who served me had a TARDIS hoodie on. I resisted the urge to beat my chest and say “big up my Doctor Who compadre, nuff respect”. Ahem. So, to finish this rather long blog post I shall leave you with a track from the aforementioned album. Okay, this isn’t a performance from the album, I couldn’t find a stream of any of the songs and yes, this is also two tracks. Shush.



0 comments:

Post a Comment