THE LAST TOURIST - After Thomas Coryat (1577–1617)
Robin Hunt walked across some of Europe in the spring and summer 2007. In 2010 and 2011 he returned to finish the route, the poor man's Grand Tour: here's travel, cities, the country, art, love, literature, mirrors and printing presses. The Old Europe of 1608, the confused New Europe and much in between. The End (of the writing) is in sight...
Tuesday, 15 May 2007
The Man Who Wasn’t Quite
Last night in Calais I heard my first mysterious tale.
The Art Museum close to the Richlieu park has a daily visitor. He is old, perhaps as much as eighty; tall with a shock of white hair and long beard, intellectual looking and very English, I am told. He is said to travel forwards and back every day from Dover on a ferry: he has some kind of cheap deal. Once in Calais he makes straight for the museum and looks at the art, very slowly, and when the gallery closes he goes home to Dover.
When asked why, he is said to say: “Why not?” The art is good; he likes art. And so he makes his daily journey. Today I went to the Museum to meet him; but on Tuesdays the gallery is closed and my white-haired man remains in Dover, I suppose. I ask the man on reception. An old man, from Dover, every day, I say. “Yes, perhaps he is a journalist,” the young man says, though he is not sure. “I am sorry. Come tomorrow.”
But tomorrow I follow Tom Coryat to Boulogne. Instead I try to imagine this man: he must be of the sea, just old enough perhaps to have fought in the second world war. What brings him here that cannot be satisfied in Canterbury, or in the museums of London? Why does he return to these paintings and sculptures, what is their hold on him?
I miss him already, my mysterious old man of Dover, the art lover of a museum I have never seen.
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Calais
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2 comments:
"Yes, perhaps he is a journalist. ... I am sorry. Come tomorrow."
I like that.
Wish I had met him though
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