They have a great second hand book shop and I found a copy of John Wyndham's "The Chrysalids", and John Wain's "Hurry on Down", which I have been re-reading.
Strange to read them after such a long time, they both capture the Fifties of my childhood in their separate ways. The Chrysalids captures the fear of this weapon we had just unleashed - the atom bomb, but also - and I had forgotten this - it presents a vision of an Evolutionary future. And how bleak and meaningless that is - however much the author tries to make it otherwise.
"Hurry on Down" is so Fifties it almost hurts to read it. I think of my young parents - how young they were back then - and now they are asleep in the ground of dust. How quickly it all vanished. And it is a vanished world.
It puts me in mind of this Betjeman poem, of a couple from the previous era:
Baker Street Station Buffet
How would I feel now if I did not know the truth - Christianity being called "the way of the truth", and have the hope (its an "undeserved kindness" so we can all hope) of inheriting the earth, as Jesus promised, and living forever on this lovely planet which floats like a blue and white jewel in space in a universe more awe-inspiring and wonderful than we can comprehend.