Paul Donnett
I can’t help it. I see one, I go in.
There’s no conscious decision involved, no internal debate, no question. My body simply changes course. Tractor beam, autopilot, knee-jerk, and non-negotiable. Possibly diagnosable, almost certainly certifiable. If one suddenly appeared in the middle of traffic, it's 3-1 odds I make it out alive.
Is it just all those books in one place that does it to me? The genuinely kind (and definitely complicit) staff leading me like a happy little puppy to the right section, then making sure I'm okay? Is it the church-like silence of those tall ceilings, the polite reverence of my fellow patrons, the childlike delight of getting intentionally lost in the labyrinth?
Of course, it doesn’t matter if I’m in the middle of something else. Or that I already own enough books to survive several minor apocalypses. Or that I just swore an eternal promise to my wife that I would stop buying books until I read the ones I already have. It's there, it's calling my name, and I simply must go where I am summoned.
And I think I've figured out why: because bookstores aren’t just stores.
They’re portals.
Every row becomes a rabbit hole, each shelf a gateway into another dimension, humming with a thousand unfinished conversations and endless possibilities. The fondest hopes, wildest fears, vulnerable self-disclosures, and inspiring discoveries of people I'll never meet but desperately wish I could. And that borderline-narcotic smell of paper, ink, and glue infused with big ideas, ambition, and time itself. I'd need at least five lifetimes to read all the books I have on my list. Silly, of course: I'd only find more.
If you travel the world the way I do—measuring cities not by landmarks but by bookshops—here are ten of my absolute faves. Yes, my list is biased. No, I will not apologize.

10. Shakespeare and Company (Paris, France)
The only fully English-language bookstore in Paris, and the former unofficial headquarters of the Lost Generation. Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Stein, Joyce—all loitered here like students who never quite left campus. Ulysses was published here. During WWII, the owner refused to sell books to Nazi soldiers, which is about as punk-rock as literature gets. Go for the books. Stay for the ghosts.

9. Russell Books (Victoria, Canada)
Family-owned for three generations and seemingly infinite in size, Russell Books feels like it’s quietly expanding when no one’s looking. Multiple floors. Multiple buildings. New books, used books, rare books, bargain books, and an antique section that could swallow an afternoon whole. Enter with a plan. Leave with none.

8. Bart’s Books (Ojai, California)
An outdoor oasis inspired by Paris’ riverside bookstalls, where books live outside and trust humanity to do the right thing. Open 24/7 on the honour system. Somehow, miraculously, it works - perhaps even proof that books make people better.

7. Cărturești Carusel (Bucharest, Romania)
Six levels. A thousand square metres. Nineteenth-century architecture restored into what may be Romania’s prettiest bookstore. It’s bright, airy, elegant, and the exact opposite of “I’ll just pop in for five minutes.”
Bonus: an excellent gift shop lurking in the basement, waiting to finish off your budget.

6. Honesty Bookshop (Hay-on-Wye, Wales)
In a town of 1,000 people with over 30 bookstores (already suspiciously perfect), this shop lives up to its name. Books are left out in the open. You pay what you owe.
Part of Richard Booth’s dream of turning the town into a literary sanctuary, this place feels like a handshake between trust and ink.

5. Libreria Acqua Alta (Venice, Italy)
A bookstore that floods regularly and responded by storing books in boats and bathtubs. Because of course it did.
Quirky, cat-filled, and beloved, this shop feels like it was designed by someone who chose charm over sanity—and we’re all better for it. Grazie to the Frizzo family for refusing to let water win.

4. Chongqing Zhongshuge Bookstore (Chongqing, China)
Mirrored ceilings, zigzag staircases, surreal shelves, and doorways hidden between books. It feels less like a bookstore and more like a dream someone had about a bookstore.
An architectural reminder that how we encounter books matters just as much as what we read. Sadly, this work of lit-art closed in 2024, but the Zhongshuge chain is alive and well in Shanghai, Chengdu (Dujiangyan), Shenzhen, and other cities.

3. The Last Bookstore (Los Angeles, USA)
Once a bank vault, now a fortress of stories. Stacked arches, precarious towers, hidden rooms, and over half a million used books competing for your attention.
It’s chaotic in the best way—like knowledge exploded and nobody bothered to clean up.

2. El Ateneo Grand Splendid (Buenos Aires, Argentina)
In 2019, the former theatre was declared "the world's most beautiful bookstore" by National Geographic. Velvet curtains. Balconies. A stage now piled with books instead of tango dancers.
Buenos Aires has more bookstores per person than anywhere else on Earth, and this one feels like the crown jewel. Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.

1. Banyen Books (Vancouver, Canada)
I saved the best for last. Nestled in the UBC gateway of Vancouver's Kitsilano district, Banyen Books is less about razzling and dazzling you than making you feel completely and entirely at home. You'd be forgiven for thinking you'd wandered into an indoor forest whilst woodland creatures treated you to an incense-infused aura massage. Wander through the rows, play with the wind chimes, sit and meditate in the back - it's up to you. Is this ground zero for the West Coast "type"? Possibly. All I know is, I love every tree-hugging minute of it. I was born and raised in the urban woods of Vancouver so you can take me out of Banyen (kicking and screaming, usually) but you'll never take the Banyen out of me.

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