Friday's Flashback: Hay-on-Wye, The Town of Books

We drove into Hay-on-Wye in the late afternoon.  After getting settled in our 17th century inn (more on that to come) we thought we'd walk through the streets of the town of books and happen upon some dinner.  We were starving.  Well, I don't remember about KJ, but I was starving.  I don't think we really stopped for lunch but had only snacked on the road.  We stepped into a few bookstores, all so delightful, but quickly grew to understand that restaurants in Hay-on-Wye shut down in the afternoon, and absolutely none of them re-open until I think 6 p.m.  If you're hungry before six in Hay-on-Wye you're just out of luck.  And that we were.

But this is a delightful distraction from food, eh?

 I thought this was the absolute best name for a bookstore,

a bookstore containing nothing but mysteries that is.

There were a lot of British mysteries inside, which I expected, but also a lot of true crime books, which I'm not a fan of.  It was a small little shop with books stacked floor-to-ceiling, old wooden stairs, and a lot of charm.  They had a complete set of Sherlock Holmes signed by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, too expensive and cumbersome for me to acquire.

 You know, just a castle full of books.

The above picture was taken the next morning.  While we wondered the streets, waiting until the town's dinner time the evening before, wind, rain, and cold blew into town.  A really nice cold wind.  When I packed for our trip, I was only able to see the forecast for the first week, which was highs in the 50s.  The UK was having a warm streak, and I packed for that, leaving my warm jacket behind.  It got so cold for a few days there, but as we were leaving one shop that night, the wind tugging at the door, the shopkeeper called out, "This is such mild weather compared to our usual Octobers!"  

Drizzly rain kept me from taking a lot of pictures in Hay-on-Wye, but we probably took a peek inside all 40 of the town's bookstores, finding a few treasures along the way.

 One of the more sophisticated shops, that also sold new books

KJ was the main treasure-finder in Hay-on-Wye.  We split up on Monday night inside a vast two-story shop, and when we met back up he had found John Owen's commentary on Hebrews, printed in 1790.  The Constitution of the United States was ratified in 1789 to give a frame of reference...and really, 1790 is not that old in England, but to us it was something.  Here's a picture.

The next morning I found the treasure for him.  He heard my gasp from across the bookstore.  Not quite as old, printed in 1810, but I knew it would make him happy.  It cost quite a few pounds, but when I asked him if he'd regret it when we were back home, KJ said, "Yes."  Then you should buy it, said I.

Hay-on-Wye clock tower

Did you know Charles Dickens wrote under the name BOZ?  A whole shop devoted to Dickens was fun to explore, and the prize under my arm?  The Half-Blood Prince, British style.  We were missing three Harry Potter books from our haphazard collection, and I was determined to bring home British copies of them.  I also found Chamber of Secrets in Hay-on-Wye and an old copy of Cranford.  We tried to control ourselves in the town of books.

I was trying to figure out why I was walking so far ahead of KJ, and I think it must have been when we were headed to the car to leave, and I was desperate to get warm.  I like it because you can get a glimpse of how these little villages are nestled in between green hills.  Hay-on-Wye is a definite treasure of a town.  It hit me this morning that I wondered what conversations amongst the townspeople are like...is everyone a reader?  Almost all of the town's revenue comes from the sell of books.