Lello: the ex most beautiful bookstore in the world

Instead of a bookstore, I came across a theme park, a crowded museum where patrons struggle, as in any tourist claim, before for a photograph than for a book

So many books, so little time (so many books, so little time). Like the dozens of tourists who patiently queue from early in the morning, I finally got my ticket, in which the first thing I read is that phrase attributed to Frank Zappa. It has not been easy. We had passed by the door a couple of days before and turned around disheartened by the unexpected crowd of people.

I love bookstores. I enjoy wandering from shelf to shelf in search of a title or, even better, waiting for a book I'm not looking for to find me, childishly avoiding the help of the bookseller on duty (There are few experiences more pleasant than finding the desired specimen by your own means.). In Buenos Aires, in Mexico City, Kathmandu, in Prague, In New York or Valletta I have always found a place to get lost, even at the risk of not finding me, in their bookstores, each one with its defined personality, so similar and so different at the same time. The visit to the Lello bookstore the Port era, therefore, inexcusable.

I love bookstores. I enjoy wandering around looking for a book or waiting for one I'm not looking for to find me.

But instead of a bookstore, I came across a theme park, a busy museum where customers fight for a photo rather than a book. A tourist attraction. Books at sale, course, but you can also buy them at Carrefour or in a museum souvenir shop and that does not make them bookstores.

Maybe out of solidarity, I thought immediately - before even setting foot inside- in the regular readers of this century-old store, forcibly banished by the invasion of the selfie hordes and the essentials of the Lonely Planet. How painful it must have been for them to leave forever the one that someone has defined, with Justice, like the most beautiful bookstore in the world. Until Harry Potter crossed his path.

I found a theme park, a busy museum where customers fight for a photo rather than a book

Someone thought of spreading around that the author of the successful saga, J. K. Rowling (who lived in Porto), He was inspired by its spectacular spiral staircase to set some scenes in his book. The death of success was only a matter of time. Hence, the massive influx of tourists forced those responsible to charge the entrance fee., just one step. The business, thanks to that, the wind is going smoothly (thanks especially to ticket sales), although for that they had to sacrifice the bookstore.

Now, Whoever approaches this temple of Portuguese literature must be willing to wait in two queues. The first, to purchase your tickets in a kind of caravan located in front of the unmistakable building with a neo-Gothic façade (recently rehabilitated). The second, to access the interior of the premises.

Now, Whoever approaches this temple of Portuguese literature must be willing to wait in two queues

After two fiascos, we approach the 9:30, half an hour before it opens its doors. After 25 minutes of waiting we already have the tickets, at a rate of three euros each from the age of six (that are discounted from the final price of the books we buy although be careful! They cannot be accumulated and each entry is only subtracted from the cost of a copy). If you are careful, and the possibility, to get a place in both queues at the same time, When you get the tickets you have to wait less in line to enter the establishment, which we finally entered, among the hubbub of people and languages, 45 minutes after arriving.

The brochure that they provide us at the door includes rules of conduct that demonstrate the uniqueness of this bookstore founded by the brothers José and Antonio Lello: don't speak loud, Do not get in the way while taking photographs, no utilizar los diabólicosselfie sticks” (self photography sticks) and do not obstruct the staircase. None of these warnings are banal judging by what you see as soon as you set foot in the bookstore..

What you see is a swarm of people storming that wooden staircase that seems to float

And what you see is a swarm of people storming that wooden staircase that seems to float, eager to be photographed from all angles while, around it, hundreds of books (The oldest, behind glass doors) They observe the persistent excitement of the visitors. Books, truth, few are bought. Of the hundreds of people who, I calculated by eye, we were inside, Only seven or eight of us were in line at the checkout with our books in our hands..

The star corner is the one with the different editions of Harry Potter, almost all in English, I must say (to the point that it cost me God and help to find a copy in Spanish for my son, softcover yes). I settled for a tiny work of Fernando Pessoa, that puts in the mouth of one of its characters a phrase very appropriate to the situation: El hombre es un animal que se despierta sin saber dónde ni para qué.

Its unparalleled beauty can only be perceived if you manage to escape from the crowd.. I did not manage to rise to that refined level of abstraction

The unparalleled beauty of the Lello bookstore can only be fully perceived if one manages to escape from the crowd and imagine it - watched over by the busts of Cervantes and Eça de Queiroz– in the solitude of a few readers browsing its shelves, while you hear the stairs creak and the daylight gains ground through the stained glass ceiling. The center rail, where books were formerly transported in a carriage to the warehouse, and the Art Deco decorations on the columns, Maybe they can help in such a conscientious work of concentration. I, I confess, I couldn't rise to that refined level of abstraction.

I was more concerned with making my way through the crowd., in photographing its most suggestive corners (yes, I admit: I got carried away for a few minutes by the photographic frenzy once, and say, I found out that it wasn't in a bookstore., but in a theme park) and in scrutinizing one volume after another in search of some title that deserved to be rescued.

Leaving, It made me want to raise a prayer to heaven for the soul of the Lello bookstore and for the grief of its faithful customers.

With half an hour I had enough. Outside, a legion of tourists was waiting their turn., like any other, They had the right to strike out the Lello bookstore, just like the Torre de los Clérigos or the Dom Luís bridge, from their list of must-sees in Porto that they had already seen. It made me want to raise a prayer to the heavens of Porto for the soul of the Lello bookstore and for the grief of its loyal customers., readers with no other homeland than the thunderous silence of the books on their shelves.

So many people, so little space, I thought as I left.

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