We are now accepting books on exchange and credits to shop cards.
We are not buying stock for cash yet. We are operating under Level 2 restrictions.
Please note that we will require you
* to wear a mask at all times whilst instore
* sign in and sanitise your hands at entry
* maintain a 2m distance between you and other browsing customers
We are here to help you if you need assistance and are happy to organise a delivery for those who are still staying safe at home. Web orders will be processed and delivered via courier and NZ Post.
Store pick ups can be ordered online or organised by phone and email. We will send you an email when your pick up is ready to be collected.
To keep up with all the Arty Bees news, why not subscribe to our newsletter at the bottom of the page.
Our next book club meeting is on Monday 8 November at 6pm. Check out Facebook or email us to find out more.
If you are lucky enough to find your place, you should never actually live in it, never make it your home. And never live with the man you think you cannot live without. Le Village is a small town at the southwestern-most tip of France. Here a young Englishwoman fell in love with France, the French and one Frenchman in particular. In her seductive, lyrical and witty memoir Helen Stevenson writes about life in Le Village, not as an expat, but as someone adopted by her neighbours as one of their own. By Stefan, the Maoist tennis fanatic, who lives off his lover in solidarity with the unemployed; by Gigi, the chic Parisian who dresses her ex-lovers' girlfriends from the stock of her exquisite boutique; and by Luc, the crumpled cowboy painter and part-time dentist, who, overcoming an aversion to blondes, takes the Englishwoman up to his remote mas, shows her his paintings and teaches her to ride. Describing the colour and light of the landscape with lyrical intensity, and savouring the languid and sexy flavour of the Mediterranean lifestyle, Helen Stevenson lays bare a romantic but potentially disastrous love affair with the man 'who seems like the only man alive to me, the one with the halo round his head in a crowd, if I should ever see him in a crowd'. Instructions for Visitors may start as an objective guide for tenants arriving at her village house, but it ends as a very personal revelation of how difficult it can be to transplant oneself into someone else's country, someone else's culture, someone else's heart....