Pope and Swift; Scarthin and Scrivener's

Coffee arrived in England in the seventeenth century, sparking a profusion of cafes - the one in Oxford's Queen's Lane, est. 1654, still survives. These steam-filled, aromatic coffee houses became centres of intellectual activity and a symbol of the Age of Enlightenment – as Swift satirizes in his passage:

Sauntering in Coffee-house is Dulman seen;
He damns the Climate, and complains of Spleen

Starbucks may have conquered the capital but in a wet, windy and wild corner of the country, the coffee shop spirit still holds sway. Scarthin Books in Cromford, Derbyshire, complete coffee shop, may not look impressive from outside, but inside it has the logic-defying layout and fantastical dimensions of a J K Rowling creation.

Five-foot-high piles of books defy gravity, bookcases swing aside to reveal hidden rooms and staircases stretch seemingly endlessly upwards. Instead of the usual "mind your head" signs, pinned to the low ceilings, here one finds notes reading "Entirely unfair prize for tall people" - bang your head and win a book. It's not so much that this is a different kind of bookshop but that, once inside, you are forced to admit that you have never before encountered a true "bookshop". Waterstones, Borders and even, dare I say it, Heffers, are but shadows on the wall of Plato's cave compared to this wonderful, wacky establishment.

But that's just by way of introduction. Now onto the books. In his Areopagitica, Milton wrote:

'Books are not absolutely dead things, but doe contain a potencie of life in them to be as active as that soule was whose progeny they are'

and that same belief in the power of books is seen throughout both Scarthin and its rival and near neighbour, Scrivener's in Buxton, Derbyshire. Here, books are cared for in their frail, old age and even the oddest volume is prized for its quirks, its feel and, possibly most importantly, its smell. New books are too often all shine, sparkle and superficiality - the "it-girls" of the book world. The volumes that people the shelves (see Milton, above) of Scrivener's and Scarthin have character: personal notes to loved ones in the front, newspaper cuttings tucked inside the cover, line drawings coloured in by a child, now long grown-up.

These are not books to read and then discard: these are books to which one can return for reassurance and reference; books to pass on to the next generation; books which can be placed proudly and prominently on a bookcase. In short, books to be treasured. A visit to Scarthin or Scrivener's is a trip back in time and their beckoning armchairs, a welcome escape from the rain-lashed fields of a Derbyshire October.