The Market Bookstore
Market Square
The great thing about the Market Bookstore, as owner Paul Neeve says, is that it’s its own advertiser. Pared down from a shop in 1981, it has only the bare essentials: a marquee and some books. And maybe some CDs and the odd DVD thrown in as well. Relying solely on donations to replenish his stock, Neeve can’t guarantee he’ll have what you’re looking for, although he’s certain on the flip side that there’s a buyer for every book. A quick reminisce takes him back to the time he took in a tray of dictionaries of obscure languages, and a travelling professor specializing in British-Columbian natives “hit the roof!” at her own unlikely jackpot. Each book is judged by its cover and then priced, so if you’re looking for a bargain it might be worth your time. Open when the Market’s open: 10:00-16:00 Friday to Monday, and then on Wednesday, it’s good for a quick browse whilst you’re on your way somewhere; and you can drink your coffee as you do it, though that’s probably necessary given the combination of Cambridge weather and a lack of walls. Lastly, a recommendation? Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome.

The Haunted Bookshop
9 St Edwards Passage
“The haunted bookshop? You mean the one by Indigo, right?” There’s a lot more to this bookshop than its proximity to the best bagels in town, although those bagels are rather welcome after a minute’s browse turns into hours of rumination over the casually piled-up faded first editions.  A shelf of ghostly tales on your left as you enter nods to the shop’s name, although the owner encourages a far from ominous atmosphere: “Hushed voices are banned”.  Although rather averse to answering my journalistic enquiries, she guided me through her collection of Iris Murdoch as an acquaintance rather than a saleswoman. You do need to spend some time to unearth the real finds (and exercise extreme Jenga precision to extract them without causing a literary avalanche), but the rewards can range from an 1800 edition of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence to a Morocco leather-bound anthology of Poets’ Cats.  It’s especially good for illustrated collectibles: rootle in the alcove behind the desk for divine Edward Ardizzone children’s books and curious editions of Lewis Carroll.

Heffers
20 Trinity Street
My personal favourite thing about Heffers is that they provide a free boyfriend-sitting service in the best-hidden Caffè Nero in Cambridge. I go off to lectures, to supervisions, to the library, safe in the knowledge that my own little darling is unlikely to get into any trouble ensconced in the corner with a cookbook and a cappuccino. Even on a busy Saturday, when it feels sort of like an astonishingly well-stocked Waterstone’s, the shop is fairly quiet (apart from the whisper of turning pages), and there are still a few tables left for the taking.
However, quite apart from the considerable lure of browsing potential purchases over a coffee, Heffers is a Cambridge institution on entirely different merits. It stocks according to University reading lists, can order in books on request within two to five days, and sells those cute bags printed with literary witticisms (there’s also a new light blue bicycle-print version, so if anyone fancies buying me a present...).

In fact, judging purely from the number of Heffers bags I see being toted around on a daily basis, it’s hard not to feel like I’m preaching to the converted. Not surprising really – this bookshop effortlessly bridges the gap between the commercial and the specialist, has a second-hand section worth a browse and incredibly helpful staff, so it’s hard to find fault. Now, about that present...

Books for Amnesty
46 Mill Road
I thought I’d wait for a quiet moment to speak to the volunteers in Books for Amnesty and entertain myself in the meantime by exploring a little. But there was a steady stream of eager book buyers, so eventually I had to tear myself away from the books and seize my moment when I could. Part of the charm of the place is that you never know what you are going to find, or what is going to be donated. A volunteer once found a letter written on Downing Street stationary tucked inside one of the books she was cataloguing, but regretfully admitted that it was “tediously domestic”, not the “political hot potatoes” she was hoping to find. The shop has previously received parts of private libraries, once from a prominent Oxford academic, so they often have quite specialized books that you might not expect to find in any old second-hand shop. Indeed that morning they had sold a book out of the special editions cabinet; a copy of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire once owned by Wyndham Lewis. Chatting to the volunteers, I admitted that I was a bit of a book geek but they smiled and assured me that this was the place for me; they had spent what must have been hundreds of pounds working there. And what would they recommend for other bibliophiles? This week they are reading Map for Lost Lovers by Nadeem Aslam, and Eliot’s Middlemarch, and would thoroughly recommend them both.

G David
16 St Edwards Passage
If you stray far enough down St Edwards Passage you will stumble upon a treat: G David, a (seemingly never-ending) chocolate-box bookshop, floor to ceiling in antiquarian books and publisher’s remainders. “It’s been in the family since my great-grandfather started his market stall in 1896,” says David Asplin, one of three family partners now running the shop. Asplin is sanguine about the current market and knows that while the future is not shiny bright, it certainly isn’t dull grey either. Having moved to its current premises around 1940, the shop is currently in the process of expanding into a further room to be finished next year. Customers are plentiful, and range from students browsing for original presents to book collectors sniffing out a valuable find. And valuable some most certainly are. “We once had a first edition copy of Darwin’s Origin of Species. It took a year to sell but it went for around £20,000,” says Asplin with a glint in his eye. But do they ever feel hidden away? “Something like this on the main drag would be cost-prohibitive,” explains Asplin, and there is no denying that, for a customer, emerging back onto the leafy path there is a certain smug feeling of exclusivity – a feeling of having been to a real bookshop.

Libra Aries Alternative Bookshop
9 The Broadway, Mill Road
Jean, the co-owner of Libra Aries Alternative Bookshop, arrived 15 minutes after opening time and breathlessly motioned me into the red-fronted single room on Mill Road. She quickly disappeared behind a curtain of the sequined, coloured fabric found in any ‘alternative’ space, leaving me on my own to browse. Run by a couple, this shop has been here since August 2004, and there is evidence of a community built around it – the board of ads for spiritual therapies being one example. 
The website had got me excited at the prospect of paganism, witchcraft and hallucinogens.  It turns out, though, that ‘alternative’ refers not only to Satanism and astrology (both present in abundance), but also to protest, parenting and nutrition. The shop’s category system is also fascinating. I wondered what Philip Pullman would have made of the inclusion of The Amber Spyglass under ‘Esoteric Books’, or what I should make of finding the computer game The Sims under ‘Fiction’. Alternative thinking indeed.
Just before I left, I spotted the magazine rack. Issue 16 of Now or Never! had, on its front page, Christ on the cross and a leprechaun sporting a swastika armband, along with the immortal headline “Jesus! Acid! Nazis!”
I very nearly bought it.

Galloway and Porter
30 Sidney Street
Although this Sidney Street bookseller has its genesis in a 1902 business venture made by the aspiring Porter family, today it operates under new ownership. This switch has meant modernisation, but not at the expense of Galloway and Porter’s gawky and intimate charm. Its affordable, miscellaneous aesthetic – most of the stock arrives courtesy of returns and remainders, sometimes from larger supermarket chains – now finds itself counterpointed with new copies of  Stephanie Meyers’ Twilight novels, leaving the shop slung nicely between the commercial and the personal. In spite of this pressure to cater for trends and crazes, the staff at Galloway and Porter preserve its independent ethos, many having worked there for several years. As the current manager, Bernie, informs me warmly, “I’ve been here since 1976.” It shows: when asked about the book-trade he displays bags of knowledge and experience, even alluding to a £2,500 first edition of Kerouac’s On the Road tucked away in the rare books room.