Poetry starts early in this town — at least this week. Breakfast starts early too: four o’clock. Why so early? “Mining town,” says a friendly lady at reception. Gold mining, in particular. And if you’re in the mining community, you get an early jump on the day. “My son-in-law’s a miner,” says the friendly lady — “but he never brings me any gold.”
Breakfast at this hotel is from four to nine. By the time I arrive on the scene — 7:30 — they are reciting poetry. A kind of hostess invites any and all guests to recite a poem. …
Something to Consider
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