We have our second international “Spotlight on Bookstores” today! Swapna, from S. Krishna’s Books has written about a store she and her husband visited during their recent honeymoon in Rome, and a special souvenir she purchased there. As lovely as the bookshop sounds, I especially liked reading about her husband’s take on the shopping trip. Swapna lives near Washington, D. C., and recently blogged about meeting Salman Rushdie at the National Book Festival. Her blog, which she subtitles “reviews and random musings about books,” has a gorgeous mosaic-style header … check it out!
My husband and I were recently married. We didn’t get married in the city we lived in; by mutual decision, we decided to have the wedding in my hometown because the most invitees were from there and it was the most convenient – for everyone except us. My family doesn’t even have a house there anymore, so when I arrived in my hometown over a week before the wedding, it was to go straight to a hotel. Not the most cheery thought.
After a week of revels and fun, but also a week of surviving on 5 hours of sleep a night, we were finally married and heading back home. I don’t think I can describe to you the exhaustion that we felt; Indian weddings are 4 day affairs, and ours was no exception. All we wanted to do was crawl into bed for a week and sleep.
But that wasn’t in the cards. We had a day to unpack, wash clothes, and re-pack, and head for the beautiful and exciting Italy for our honeymoon. Let me tell you, when you start out a two-week trip exhausted, it’s not a good thing.
We had a wonderful time in Italy. It was an amazing trip. Each day, despite our weariness, we threw ourselves into sightseeing. (I know it sounds like I’m throwing a pity party – “poor me, I HAD to go to Italy!” I know I was extremely lucky to be able to go. I was just really tired.) We jumped from city to city, trying to relax even though we were on the go the entire time. Then, in Venice, something happened – my poor husband got food poisoning. He was still able to function, it wasn’t crippling, but he definitely was a little less enthusiastic after that.
By our last day in Venice, we were ready to go home. We had a train trip, and then three days in Milan, and we would be on our way back to the states! There was only one problem: the food. If you’ve ever been to Italy, you know they don’t exactly have the same choices of cuisine that most metropolitan cities offer. There’s Italian, and then there’s McDonald’s. That’s it. Now, I’m a huge fan of Italian food; I cook it regularly at home and we love it. But when you’ve eaten the same type of food for a week and a half, you’re more tired than you ever thought you could be, you’re starving from walking an average of eight miles a day and your husband has food poisoning, you tend to get a little cranky.
Now, you’re probably asking yourself, this is all good and well, but what does this have to do with
bookstores? Well, we made it to Milan, and we were standing in the Piazza del Duomo in front of the breathtaking Duomo, Milan’s cathedral, when I happened to glance to my right and saw it. A bookstore.
Called Mondadori, it seemed to be Italy’s version of Borders; clean and open, with music and movies to choose from along with the requisite books. I dragged my husband into the store and we wandered the aisles, looking in wonder at the Italian titles that we didn’t understand. We wandered long enough and far enough to find the English language section, one floor down.
My husband said that, despite the horrendous exchange rate, I should pick out a book to buy because he knew it would make me happy. So I wandered. And looked. I pulled books off the shelves, savoring each one. I drank up the descriptions, weighing my decision carefully. They had a pretty good selection of books, so there was more than one I would have happily walked away with. I must have spent an hour just pulling books off of shelves, petting them, and reshelving them, happy to be back in my element. Finally I decided on Salman Rushdie’s The Enchantress of Florence and, after purchasing it, we reluctantly left the bookstore.
Once outside, I asked my husband, “Why didn’t you go wander around on your own? Why did you sit for an hour, just waiting for me to pick out a book?” My husband responded, “I was enjoying watching you.” Of course I asked, “Why?” He replied, “Because here we are in Italy, and it’s the bookstore that has made you the happiest on this trip.”
I loved our trip to Italy. But a bookstore, even in a foreign country, is a piece of home.
(note from Dawn: I forgot to include this link Swapna sent me, to an article about the grand opening of the bookstore. The photos are incredible!)