You are among friends

This week we're heading back to a bookshop I've visited many times before. Partly so I can tell you it's still my go-to place if I want to find the fifth book by an obscure author from the 1950s that smaller bookshops don't have the space for, partly because I've already written about this place and so won't feel too bad that I'm going to digress to talk about something else bookshop related.

The destination is Folyes, that beacon of light with its line of red letters calling to everyone who finds themself near the top of Charing Cross Road. I'm here at around 5.30pm on a Tuesday evening, weaving my way through many, many more pedestrians than I remember from years gone by. 

My aim is to spend an hour or so bookshopping before heading up to the top floor – the private event space above the cafe – for the Books Are My Bag (BAMB) Readers Awards. Before I've even arrived I know what book I want to buy, a particular finalist in this year's tenth anniversary awards. Where usually I like to let randomness influence my purchase, today it's nice to have something in mind, freeing me to explore at leisure. The problem is sticking with that determination. 

I walk into the bustling lobby to find it even more full of tables of books than I remember. Customers are everywhere and it's lovely to see so many people browsing. During one of my first ever visits to this bookshop, this area had been empty bar a supersize model of a tote bag* and so each time I return I'm surprised to find books and furniture.

What is familiar is the welcome sign, which never fails to make me smile:

Even with an hour to fill, the six floors that contain books are going to be too much for me to fully take in, so I only glance around the lower ground floor (children's) and ground floor (best sellers, board games, etc) before making my way up to fiction on the first floor.

As I had a book in mind, my time here was a bit of a luxurious stroll, visiting my favourite genres (classics and science fiction), and popping to the various fiction shelves that I knew would house some of my favourite authors – it's nice to say hello. I enjoy the expanse of this floor, with each area of bookshelves feeling snug despite being a part of a larger whole. There's also something wonderfully decadent about seeing how many copies of some books are piled up on tables or floors.

Of course, there's also something rather distracting about so many books being on display and it would've been rude to not get drawn in. Especially when there's a table such as this, which is a good balance of books I've read and loved, and books I'm yet to encounter: surely they're together for a reason?

I did almost manage to continue walking along to the book I'd intended to buy, then Goodbye Mr Chips by James Hilton jumped out at me. I have loved the film since I was a teenager but I'd no idea it was a book. There was simply no way I could leave without it and I'm now desperately hoping the book is as good as the film.**

I took my book to the counter to pay, then allowed myself to continue up the building. The music floor always leaves me in awe. The first time I encountered it I confess to feeling completely out of my depth. Thankfully over the years I've become less daunted, helped by The Boy (who was left at home for this visit) and his extensive musical knowledge and eclectic taste. Many of his birthday and Christmas presents have come from here (and he was disappointed when he realised I'd not done any early seasonal shopping during this visit).

Up again and we've two floors of non-fiction Here there really is something for everyone but this time it's natural history that draws me in. Then we reach the fifth floor and the cafe and art space, but there's no time for me to see what might be on display. I've an event to get to.

Books Are My Bag is a campaign to celebrate bookshops. It was launched in 2013, approximately one month after this blog (how I'd love to say I was the inspiration, the reality is that anything that champions real-world bookshops should be celebrated). The campaign – among other things – encourages people to go on bookshop crawls on Bookshop Day, as well as organising the annual Readers Awards, which is now its tenth year.

I've been attending this annual BAMB event since before the awards began (see photo of me being a model tote bag), missing I think only one or two due to covid. This time I do my usual thing of arriving promptly for the start so I can take a mandatory selfie before the crowds turn up. This time I also do my usual thing of failing to get my whole face *and* the subject of the photo fully into the picture:

I don't know anyone, but this is also part of the fun because as the sign downstairs said: you are among friends. I accept a glass of wine and stand to one side where I have a good view of the room. There are a few small groups who are obviously from publishers, but tonight isn't about work: I'm here for the bookshops.

One year I had the good fortune to walk in and immediately say hello to two ladies from Beckenham Bookshop, which prompted my longest (so far) single-day bookshop crawl. It's always a treat to stumble across booksellers outside of their regular haunt, I somehow find it easier to declare my love for what they do and question them more thoroughly (in a non-interrogatory manner) about how they spend their days. This time I can't easily pick out the booksellers and instead end up in conversation with a poetry editor who took a chance and said hello.

Left on my own again a short while later, I spot that a few authors have arrived. It's interesting seeing them because I really should want to go up to X and tell them how much I enjoyed their story, I've even contemplated asking Y why he had to break me so badly by doing that to a character, but here doesn't feel like the place. Here it's good to see the authors chatting with their editors and agents, saying hello to each other and is that perhaps a bookseller one of them is with?

Failing to spot any booksellers (I've been to enough bookshops and looked on enough about us pages of their websites, I know a bookseller when one's in front of me!), I instead get chatting to an editor who is waiting for their author to arrive. Thanks to the previously mentioned very long bookshop crawl, we have a lot of bookshops in common so it's a good, long, chat and before I know it the awards are about to start.

This is where I spot my target crowd. First, Debbie from Kibworth Books takes to the stage in her role as President of the Booksellers Association. I'm not sure how I missed her earlier because, as you'll discover if you read my blog about her bookshop, I'm a big fan. 

Next each category is announced, with representatives of different bookshops presenting the trophies. I'm familiar with two of the bookshops featured but have to confess both are on my "how have I not yet visited you" list, while the others are all completely new to me. As I cheer all the finalists, I make notes of future journeys to be taken.

Not my finest photo, but here you have the winners, host Dr Punam Krishan, and representatives of the bookshops involved in the awards.

Then the awards are finished and I attempt to make the most of the remaining time by saying hello to the booksellers. I'm full-on fan girl when talking to Debbie, but the good thing*** about booksellers is that they always seem genuinely surprised whenever anyone praises their domain (try it next time you're in a bookshop, the bookseller will be nice and I almost guarantee you will have made their day). And so we launch into a good conversation about how much her bookshop has changed since my last visit – a few more years ago than I'd realised – as well as discussing books and authors.

Bert's Books is my next chat, and while I've not managed to visit them in person, this is one of the places that kept me in books during the pandemic and so more enthusiasm is pored out of me for their postal service. We talk about books and how they're the reason I want to visit Swindon, and then I realise I'd better move on.

Only I'd perhaps talked a little too long, because by the time I looked around for the other booksellers I couldn't see them in the crowd. Still, I'd had some lovely chats with various people as well as enjoying the awards: my evening could be deemed a success. And so it was time to head out into the night and catch a train home, with the latest BAMB tote bag over my shoulder of course.

Foyles
107 Charing Cross Road, London WC2H 0DT

* Here you go. Me, half hiding behind a giant tote bag in the lobby of Foyles. October 2014.

** I know the book is always better, but on very rare occasions the film can sometimes be as good as the book – Fight Club – and every now and then the film is actually better. See The Bridges of Madison County.

*** One of many good things, because booksellers are kind and knowledgeable superheroes.