Mitzie and I used to spend a lot of time at Pages. It was this little bookstore on Katipunan at a third floor of one of the buildings that are now dwarfed by Xanland. I remember I used to park in front of that building, walk to the back, climb six mini-flights of stairs and onto a small non-descript door. We loved going to that place, where they served cappuccinos in ginormous cups (think ramen bowl), and vanilla almond cookies. All they ask is that we buy coffee and sugary treats to keep them in business. It was such a novelty for us to peruse their shelves, sink in their overstuffed armchairs and couch, and read their selections. A wonderful novelty at that time when the only decent bookstore was National Bookstore and they seal up their books in plastic and chase you down with the cash register if they discover you reading any of their books.
I loved that place. Mitzie and I would be there on days when we didn't have work. And we used to treat ourselves to books every payday. That and two double cappuccinos. To say that we were heartbroken when it closed is putting it mildly. We missed it to pieces, and no matter how many bookstores we discovered after that, it was never the same.
When I went to my parents' two nights ago to bake a last minute order for brownies, I found myself staring at stacks of my books that I have yet to pack and bring home with me. Most of them were from Pages.
Someone recommended this to me. I can't remember who though. The story takes place in Old Manila. And I enjoyed how the author describes the place.
I have a lot of other books, mostly poetry, from Pages. I'll have to take them out of their boxes one of these days and read them once more.