Regarding Lia’s obsession with bookstores housed in amazing venues, I also fall prey to this preoccupation. I was recently in Argentina for–gasp–not work, and stumbled upon El Ateneo while in Buenos Aires. The bookstore was amazing. I could have lived there.
One of the things that I found interesting about this immense place is that the only books in English were two or three shelves of pulpy, Danielle Steele-type paperback beach reads. So while I so desperately wanted to say I purchased my English version of Jorge Luis Borges’ The Aleph at this book lovers’ haven, I couldn’t. Buying a John Grisham novel at El Ateneo seemed sacrilegious.
I decided on some funky postcards instead, and vowed to learn Spanish.
Like this post? Read Betty’s previous review on why Singapore Air rocks.
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