We were tourists in Asheville, starting with the gardens at Biltmore. Gerhard opted to skip the house tour, because he could go to any number of palaces in Germany. We drove directly to the gardens. I was surprised that the tulips were still blooming. The pink tulips were gone, replaced with white and yellow ones.
We also went to the boarding house where Thomas Wolfe spent his young years. His mother owned and ran it. I was sorry I couldn’t remember having read anything he wrote, but the tour guide told anecdotes that gave us an outline of his history. His first novel included stories of people who lived in the boarding house, some of whose names he had changed. People resented him so much that he left town. Years later he returned and found he had no time to write because people kept interrupting him. I used to think I’d like to be well-known, but I’ve changed my mind. I suspect there is no such thing as a little notoriety.