Have you ever wondered what happens to a book before it shows up in your cart or lands on your doorstep? Before it settles onto your nightstand or slips into your commuter bag, it travels a surprisingly long road. Not quite the N1-at-Christmas kind of road, but a journey with its own small dramas, soft discoveries, and tender moments.
Sometimes the story begins with you
A box of books arrives in Stellenbosch. Sometimes a careful hand-off at the door; sometimes a slightly chaotic delivery from someone who drove all the way from Durbanville “because the books deserved a proper home.” South Africans have a particular tenderness when it comes to parting with books. You can hear it in the way people tell their stories:
“This one got me through varsity.”
“I bought it in Cape Town in ’94”
“My gran read this to me every December holiday.”
“I’ve been keeping this for years… but I think it’s time for someone else to travel with it.”
“This book taught me something I didn’t know I needed. Maybe it can do that for someone else.”
And sometimes, the story begins with me
Not all books come to The Story Station in boxes. Some I go looking for like a literary scavenger hunter across the Cape.
Some days I come home with a single perfect title. Other days, the boot is so full it looks like I’ve robbed a small library. Either way, the hunt is part of the magic.
Inspection and TLC
Nothing dramatic (no white gloves or magnifying lamps), just a gentle kind of attention. We flip through pages, check the spine, brush away dust, and remove the weekend newspaper clipping someone tucked into chapter seven.
Every now and then, we find tiny treasures: a forgotten bookmark from a 1998 Exclusive Books sale, an old plane ticket, a pressed flower that must’ve meant something to someone.
Cataloguing and curating
Next comes the careful part. Each book is photographed, described, and catalogued. We note its condition, its quirks, and even the little things that made it special to someone else, because those are often the details that matter to you.
Once uploaded into the online shop, the book waits. And while I know books can’t technically watch, I’m convinced secondhand books develop strong opinions. Some leave quickly. Others linger, patient and contemplative, as though choosing their next reader with quiet deliberation.
Ready for a new tale
Someone clicks 'Add to Cart'. Somewhere in South Africa, a reader has recognised a title they loved once, or never knew they needed. The order pings in, and suddenly the book is no longer an inventory item. It’s a traveller preparing for its next chapter.
Finally, it makes its way to you
Across provinces, across suburbs, through sorting hubs and over mountain passes, and sometimes just down the street. Sometimes the book arrives a day early, sometimes a day late (couriers are human too), but always with the quiet hope that you’ll open it gently and allow it to settle into your home.
And when you read it, whether you underline passages, dog-ear pages, or keep it as pristine as a museum piece, the book continues a story that began long before it reached you.
PS: Thanks for being here. You’re supporting a small bookshop, a big dream, and my ongoing attempt to pretend I have “just a few” books in the house.