‘This is Marty, he owns the stall.’
‘Hi, Marty. Good to meet you.’
‘You too.’
‘I found that book you wanted,’ says the stallholder.
‘It’s my favourite Dutch writer,’ Abe explains to me.
‘Sounds exciting.’
The stallholder bends down under his table and pulls out an ancient-looking green leatherbound book. Abe is delighted with his purchase, and I love how happy finding this precious book makes him.
‘Take care of Abe, he’s my favourite customer,’ says the stallholder as we leave.
‘I promise I will.’
We weave in and out of the stalls selling both old and new books, and stop at one with a sign in English above it.
‘You know, it’s not just Dutch books here. There are all languages. Let’s find some English books for you.’
I stop and look at the interesting selection of paperbacks, but decide that I probably have enough back home. My reading pile is already quite big, although these books give me an idea.
‘You know what, I’m desperately trying to learn Dutch. Perhaps I should look for Dutch books instead.’
‘In that case, follow me.’
Abe seems to know his way around all the different stalls as he shows me one with children’s books.
‘I think I know just the thing to help.’ I am beginning to wonder if he thinks I should start off reading toddlers’ books when we pass by the stall and find another. Here he hands me a thin book.
‘Here, it’s a book of Dutch short stories. Why don’t you try that?’
‘That’s a great idea. I’ll take it.’
‘Ah, let me. I insist on paying,’ says Abe.
‘Oh no. You can’t do that.’
‘Of course I can. Please, let me treat you. I spend all my money in this place. I like to support the different stallholders. I mean, where would we be without booksellers?’
‘Yes, indeed. The world would be a very sad place without them. Thank you, that’s really kind. I’ll treasure it. Now, can I buy you a drink in return?’
‘Why not? I know a great place nearby,’ says Abe.
‘How did I guess? You know all the best places.’
Despite being huddled up to Abe with his arm around me as we walk to the bar, it’s still bitterly cold. The warmth of the pub is a welcome relief as we enter. The place is just Abe’s style, with memorabilia hanging everywhere. Black-and-white Sinatra prints are intermingled with a Punch and Judy set. It is truly bonkers and fun in here. On one side there are muppets, on another historical legends like Elvis. A jukebox in the corner plays the last words of a Scritti Politti song and a small black pug dog runs under my feet as I order.
‘What do you recommend here?’
‘Dutch beer on draught. It’s a must.’
‘Let’s go for it then.’
I order two pints of Dutch beer, and we take a round table in the corner.
‘Proost!Do you know that one yet?’
