"Here I stand, on the front porch of literary legend, the Babe Ruth of fishermen, the single most influential fictional character of my life. The door opens a crack and onto the porch steps a man in his mid 40's, a blue and white guayabera unbuttoned to his belly. I let my tout ask if we can see the old man.Of course my version of this was paying eight pounds to go up the Eiffel Tower. Sometimes, life long dreams are worth paying that little bit extra for.
"Fifteen dollars,'' he replies.
I hadn't planned on paying an admission fee to meet my humble old fisherman. This was a pilgrimage, not a trip to Six Flags. I haggle. I'm a journalist, I tell him. A fan, a fellow fisherman, an admirer. I wrack my brain for the Spanish word for "idol". Finally, he lets me in for ten dollars."
Books Unusual article from Brian Francis Donohue of the Literary Traveller, which demostrates the pitfalls of following in Ernest Hemmingway's footstep when you're not Michael Palin. Here he is trying to see Gregorio Fuentes, the former captain of Hemingway's yacht, "El Pilar":
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