There’s a [quite possibly urban] legend that back in the early ’90s a nouveau-riche couple waltzed into a bookstore and announced that they wished to buy an entire wall’s worth of books. Preferably only those with yellowish-brown spines, so they’d match the furnishings.
Apollo didn’t exist at the time – and thankfully such customers no longer exist either. There’s always a certain thrill as you step into the store: there are so many books and so many covers, with such amazing worlds hidden between them. Some of their stories are more straightforward; others need reading again (and again) before they completely open up to you. There are those which will sate your thirst for diversion in just a few lines, and those you won’t be able to put down even after staying up half the night and devouring hundreds of pages.
And since so many stories evolve into films and games and music, then you’ll find them at Apollo as well, plus office supplies and gifts.
It has its own vibe, this bookstore: contemplative, but bursting with joie de vivre. It’s the same feeling you get when you sit down to make a start on your favourite author’s latest novel, that fresh-off-the-printing-press scent wafting over you as you read the opening line. There’s no feeling quite like it.
Well, except perhaps when you sit down to attend the launch of said favourite author’s latest book – they’re held in the store, too.