As I perused the shelves, chuckling quietly at titles like 'Little Miss Grouch', 'The Woman Haters' and 'Some Eccentrics & a Woman', the wonderfully gravelly-voiced staffer was telling a story about Winston Churchill's mother having her leg chopped off from gangrene after a fall from wearing Italian high heels. I always thought high heels were bad for you.
Walking along the very well organised shelves of secondhand and antiquarian books downstairs, you also come across 'The Vault' - a kids room with chaise longue and all. There's glass cabinets full of antiques and collectibles, Satsuma vases and ancient Roman fibulae. Downstairs is the bargain section with lots of furniture, but head upstairs. First you pass an amazing actual magic lantern, slides and all, and up you go, up the echoey stairs that feel like you're walking through a repressive girls' school, of Enid Blyton era.
Upstairs there's a big vintage clothing section, and more affordable books, from comics to a huge range of Penguins so you can stock up on your Worthy but Forgotten Authors. There's lots of chairs everywhere, inviting you to sit, and classical music seeps out from speakers all over the place. You will be steadfastly ignored by the staff unless you ask them something, as they show you the respect of assuming you can find your way around yourself. You could wander in Dickensian referenced abandon for hours. read more