Hello and welcome! =)

This will be about a book. To you it could be any book i guess. For me though this book is interesting becuase it is exactly this book. I guess I have to start from the beginning.

In February I took a prolonged weekend trip to London. My brother lives there so a visit around his birthday seemed in order. While I was there my brother worked some of the days which meant I had time to do whatever I wanted. What I want when being in a new town is to get lost. I took a walk and whereever I wanted to go I went.
About halfway through the day, after the best-worst english breakfast I've ever had, I'm walking around in what to me looks like a financial district. I get approached by a man carrying a box. This conversation was a little odd. He claimed that he was out of gas for his car and he had no money. At this point my mind was already going: "Oh no, a scammer? Really? here? Come on".
Either way I was in a good mood so I heard what he had to say. He wanted to sell me a book from his box for 1 pound. So now my mind was: "Whatever book this is... its cheap! If nothing else a weird story to tell later" I looked through the mans books and found this one:


Lawrence of fucking arabia. A name I've heard somewhere at some point but knew nothing about. Wasn't there a movie made at some point? (The answer is yes and when I came back to my brothers apartment I saw he had it on DVD)



Anyway. I come home from London and the book is just laying on my desk for few weeks. Between Mafia games (with nothing to fill my breaks at work) I start reading this book.

The first I realize when starting reading this is that the book smells old. You know the kind of smell old books have. The same smell as when you sit in you grandparents old leather couch. The story itself was good. It was written in a matter of fact way that made it easy for me to read and follow. But thats not the interesting fact about this book. Because when done with the reading I took a look at when it was printed and published.
Apparently this book was puplished in 1935. By Oxford Press. Picture1 Picture2
I started wondering if this book was worth anything. It probably isn't but who knows. It just feel different reading such an old book compared to reading what I normaly read. It feels weird to have a connection to a book based purely on the way the book was bought and because of the age of the book.

Reading through this before posting I realize this blog have no purpose. I you made it through I hope you enjoyed it anyway =)