Dropping in to Shakespeare's

Discovering Prague's delights

Writing my recent post Any pair will do, reminded me of one of the most memorable summons we've had to a bookshop and the cache awaiting us there.
    During our visit to Prague in December 2011, Linda showed us around the city just before Christmas. As we crossed the famous Charles Bridge, she showed us one of the sights we were heading to - the Franz Kafka museum.
   But she had a few surprises up her sleeve and one of them was

                                                          Shakespeare & Sons

As far as we know, it is the only second hand bookshop in all of Prague dealing in English books! Being in the part of the city called The Old Town, the building is many centuries old and coming in from the icy cold through the huge wooden door on street level we walked into its warm, musty embrace.
    It must surely be the most beautiful bookshop I've ever been to: with its thick walls lined with wooden book cases, mellow lighting and the liquid sounds of jazz music coming from what seemed to be somewhere below us.
    We found it was indeed coming from below, as we discovered a flight of steps spiraling down into the underground. It was only later that we would find out that the famous Prague underground chambers date back more than 800 years.
     Here more glories awaited us! Natural light fall through skylights and huge arched beams hold up the vaulted roof. Floors set in cut stone are decorated with small Persian rugs and black leather clad Art Deco couches beg to be occupied. Of course, here too, the walls are clad with row upon row of books.
    We were in heaven! We had to take our pockets and baggage constraints into consideration, but we couldn't leave empty handed.
     Into my hands jumped two books, begging to be mine, all mine: Rilke's Two stories (set in Prague and with the most beautiful line sketches of the city's landmark sights), and a gem of a recipe book, Niamh Shield's Comfort & Spice. It was heart rendering, but I felt I could afford only one. It had to be Rilke.
    George met up, and could then not be parted again, with, A History of the Jews, by Paul Johnson.

We're in heaven!

It was only when we were back in South Africa, that I learned of the conspiracy that went on behind my back! Linda had bought the coveted recipe book, seemingly as smitten with it as I was, but she had George smuggle it into our luggage as a birthday gift for me come February. George had, also unbeknown to me and with tremendous serendipitous timing, undertaken a second trip to the book shop, and retrieved The Bonesetter's Daughter by Amy Tan, which he had hidden so as to get me it as a gift!
     I now have three books from Shakespeare & Sons residing with me. They are infused with the sweetest of memories. Of Prague, dear friendship and the sharing of blissful in-the- momentness.
 
Matilda