In Oxford the other week, I was thrilled to find Scriptum, a treasure trove of books, ink and other desirable goodies for anyone desperate to maintain a handle on real life, real paper and real materials.
I spent ages in there. I completely lost track of time. The beautiful Italian/Venetian leather bound books were enough to keep me blocking the staircase for an eternity.
And then the inks. The inks. What can I say about the inks? Suffice to say that I bought two (a luscious green-black and an interesting turquoise) and today, weeks later, I managed to finally find my nice fountain pen, and I’ve been merrily catching up on to do lists and creating lots of other things to write about.
What a pity I had to lay down my pen to write this.
Even if you can’t visit the shop, they do a great mail order service so I can happily write as much as I want, secure in the knowledge that replacement bottles are only an order away.