🏡 Back home in Shropshire, but what a week it's been. 🌟
Grateful for everyone who joined our journey - the locals' warmth, the visitors' love for The Open Book. 😍
It's been the most wholesome week we've ever had.
🗓 18th - 23rd July 2023: ⏰ 41 hours open 🤝 319 people greeted 🐶 16 adorable dog visitors 📚 81 books found new homes
As I've been doing all the posting this week, Gary wanted to say something...
I did not want to be a bookseller. I wanted even less to pay for the privilege.
Stephy had other ideas, however, and it’s in my nature to follow her lead even when I’m convinced she’s gone off the deep end. And so, in 2017, we booked our place at the end of a 3-year wait and Stephy impatiently dreamt of our upcoming trip. This, I believe, is called “foreshadowing.”
2 days before our trip in 2020, we were all locked in our homes for the foreseeable future. And so, in 2020, we booked our place at the end of a 3-year wait and Stephy impatiently dreamt of our upcoming trip.
I tell you this to emphasise that, despite two 3 year waits and a pandemic, I was no more enthusiastic about our bizarre little holiday. I was convinced that we would see too few customers and I would be bored out of my mind or, much worse, that we would see too many and I would be forced to relive the retail experience that made me promise “never again” as a teenager. Either way, I was terrified that my anxiety and my atrophied social skills would leave me trapped in a solid week of awkward interactions and uncomfortable silences.
I ran these scenarios in my head, preparing myself for any eventuality, but I could never have anticipated that I would fit in almost immediately. We were soon visited by many of the locals, invited to events and welcomed into their stores as though we were regulars. This strange, wonderful place embraced us with everything from casual Good Mornings shared across the quiet road as we all set up our signs and displays, to conversation in the street to compare notes after closing. It is rare that I feel a sense of belonging, but I found it here and instantly fell in love.
With the help of Stephy's boundless energy and contagious enthusiasm, I fully discarded my shell within days and, by week's end, was actively greeting everyone who walked through the door with a genuine “How are you today?” like some kind of crazy person.
It was in this question that I found the real treasure of this place, the thing that makes The Open Book far more than the sum of its parts: Those who visit, do so looking for a story or two, sure, but if you ask them, and if you listen, they often gift you a story in return. We encountered people bursting with the kind of joy and wisdom that only comes from a life well lived and learned important life lessons that we will carry with us forever. All it took was a word and an ear.
The dream, the one I didn't understand, can be found here in Wigtown but you are missing the point if all you are looking for is a quaint, cosy stay in a bookshop. The Open Book wouldn't work anywhere else because The Open Book is Wigtown. There is a perfect storm here. The right people in the right place at the right time with the right idea have created something truly magical. How else can I describe something wonderful that shouldn't exist, but does anyway?
This is a place where a modern shop with modern comforts exists but the penny sweet is alive and well, where a parade of 40 horses might run right by your front door and bagpipe music can be described as "spontaneous", where a "little concert" is both cosy and breathtaking in equal measure, where you can enter a store to the sound of live banjo music and learn of the owners attempts to purchase a life-sized triffid, and where you will learn the secret to a long happy life is to pull up your socks, always be curious, never stop learning, and buy a second TV for your spouse.
In just one week, a bookstore had become a home, a handful of strangers had become neighbours and friends and a holiday I would gladly have missed had become a memory that I will cherish always. I leave this place healed and inspired, thankful for the kindness and the stories that I will take home with me, and saddened beyond measure to say goodbye so soon.
I did not want to be a bookseller, but I will be forever grateful that I was.
Until next time, Wigtown.
