
I have an unhealthy attachment to this place. I’ve been a regular since my mid-teens and in that time I’ve seen it grow from a teeny tiny space into a sprawling maze of rooms, with books stacked up to the ceiling, but this growth hasn’t compromised the cozy atmosphere. Their New Zealand fiction and poetry sections are among the strongest to be found in Wellington’s bookshops, and they always seem to have what I can’t find elsewhere.




