When I first heard about Waterstones, I thought of it as just another bookstore, but stepping inside the one at Piccadilly in London showed me that it is much more than shelves filled with books. It feels like a world built for book lovers, with so many sections, quiet corners, and little discoveries waiting at every turn. In London, there are several Waterstones scattered in different neighborhoods, but the one at Piccadilly Circus is often described as the largest. Walking into it feels like entering a universe where every kind of story exists side by side.
My husband was more excited about visiting the store than I was. He has always had a special relationship with books. At home, there is an entire wall dedicated to his carefully arranged collection. Every shelf is full of titles he has spent years gathering, mostly manga volumes and fantasy novels. It is his pride and joy, and he does not let me or our daughter touch them. Not out of selfishness, but out of fear that the pages might be torn or bent. He says our daughter can read them when she grows old enough to respect each page and understand the value of keeping them in good condition. Until then, those books remain his guarded treasure.
The manga shelves at Waterstones instantly caught his attention. Rows upon rows of colorful spines lined up like soldiers, waiting to be picked. He looked as if he had discovered a new heaven for himself. It reminded me of the way his eyes light up when he talks about his favorite series or the excitement in his voice when he finds a rare volume online. He also has a deep love for fantasy novels, and the store did not disappoint in that section either. There were entire displays dedicated to the worlds of dragons, magic, and distant planets. He lingered there for a long time, running his hands over new editions and collector’s covers.
One author he has been steadily collecting is Frank Herbert, the creator of the Dune series. The shelves at Waterstones had both the classics and modern reprints, some with striking cover art that made them almost too beautiful to read. I watched him pick up a heavy hardback copy, study it for a moment, and then carefully place it back as if he were making a silent promise to return for it one day. For him, books are not just about the story inside but also about the feel of the cover, the quality of the print, and the way they sit on a shelf.
My own connection to books is a little different. I do not have a wall dedicated to them, but I do have a personal collection. Over the years, I have been drawn to political thrillers. James Patterson has always kept me turning the pages late into the night, and I was especially intrigued by the books he wrote together with Bill Clinton. The mix of fast-paced suspense with real-world political insights made them unforgettable for me. I also enjoy legal thrillers. John Grisham’s stories have always pulled me into tense courtrooms and moral dilemmas, and I have read many of his novels both online and in physical copies.
Becoming a mother changed the way I spend my time, and somewhere along the way, my reading habit slowed down. I often tell myself that I will get back to it, but when my daughter sleeps, I find myself watching Korean dramas instead. They give me comfort, and sometimes I feel guilty for not reading as much as I once did. Standing inside Waterstones, though, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of books, stirred something in me again. I could feel that old spark. I wanted to reach out and fill a basket with every title that caught my eye.
Waterstones Piccadilly is not just large; it is breathtaking in scale. The building itself is impressive, with multiple floors and wide staircases that encourage you to wander from one level to the next. Each floor is carefully organized, with clear signs guiding you toward fiction, non-fiction, children’s books, travel, cookery, art, or academic titles. The variety is overwhelming, but in the best possible way. You can sense that the people who run the store care deeply about books and about helping readers find what they love.
What struck me most was how welcoming the space feels. Even though it is massive, it is not intimidating. There are reading nooks where you can sit for a while, sections where staff recommendations are displayed with handwritten notes, and entire tables dedicated to the latest releases. There is even a café where you can take a break with a coffee and just watch people carry their towers of books with smiles on their faces.
The children’s section caught my eye too, even though my daughter is still small. It felt magical, almost like a secret land built to capture a child’s imagination. Bright colors, playful displays, and a wide range of stories that seemed to invite little hands to pick them up. I imagined coming back in a few years when she is old enough, letting her explore and choose books that could become her own treasures.
For someone like me, who dreams of owning many books but also has to think about the cost, Waterstones is both wonderful and dangerous. The temptation to buy everything is strong. Books here are not cheap, especially the beautiful hardbacks and special editions, but there is also a sense that they are worth it. Each one feels like an investment in a future moment of joy, a story waiting to be unwrapped. I had to remind myself to be practical and not let my heart take over completely.
Walking through the aisles, I realized that visiting a bookstore like this is not only about buying books. It is about being surrounded by them, about breathing in the smell of paper and ink, about letting yourself dream. Even if you leave with just one book in your bag, you carry the memory of wandering through stories from every corner of the world. For my husband, it was about finding new additions for his collection. For me, it was about reconnecting with the part of myself that loves to read but has been sleeping quietly for some time.
We left Waterstones with fewer books than we wanted, but more happiness than we expected. My husband held onto his carefully chosen titles, already thinking about how they would look on his wall of books. I left with a single political thriller that I promised myself I would read before the end of the year. As we walked out into the busy streets of Piccadilly, I thought about how special it is to share moments like this together, even if we love different kinds of stories.
Books have a way of shaping our lives quietly. They sit on shelves, waiting patiently for us to return to them, and when we do, they open up entire worlds. Visiting Waterstones reminded me that even though I might spend more time watching dramas these days, the world of books is still waiting for me. And maybe, just maybe, I will find myself making more room for them again.
