. . . Having a local bookshop where you know this experience awaits you is a privilege. But when you find it far from home, as I did recently in Oswestry in Shropshire it can be even better . . . I was ambushed by Booka, an independent bookshop whose open doors I could not refuse. I emerged an hour later rested and full of ideas with a new notebook, a CD of Ivor Gurney’s songs and a collection of poetry . . .