I met the fisherman in a small village next to the Irish sea, where shops close early and phone reception is rare. Let’s call him Tristan, for I don’t remember his real name. Tristan was from France. At 25 years of age, just like myself, he decided to leave his hometown on the French coast and move to Ireland.
” I wonte too be eh fee-shing-guide,” Tristan told me with a heavy French accent and the basic English he still knew from school. He chose this part of the world to start his own business because “sere eez a lot of salmon in sse sea.”
“I wonte to worke for myselfe. I do not wonte to make… eh.. lot of monee… eh… but if I can show people theez bau-ti-ful plasse, ssen I weel be ‘appy.”
Tristan didn’t own a phone and you wouldn’t find him on facebook. His father was a fishing-guide back in France and ” ‘ee tolde me ev-er-y-ssing I kno about fee-shing,” explained Tristan the fisherman to me. He had been saving up money since he was twenty to move to the Irish coast one day, buy a little house and some fishing rods, of course.
“I geeve myselfe ssree years to make… eh… reputation and… eh… customehrs. If not - I stop.”
“And what will you do then, if it doesn’t work?” I asked him and he paused for a long minute.
“If it do not worke,” said Tristan the fisherman, “ssen I go fee-shing.”
And with a content smile on his face he prepared his rods and then went… fishing.
It always makes me happy, when i read stories like this or meet people like Tristan randomly. great writing Gesa!
Cheers from Berlin,
Stefan.
Cheers Stefan,
It always makes me happy when I read that somebody likes my stories or appreciates meeting people like Tristan, too.
Say hello to Berlin from me
…his name was kilian
…greetings from wild traveler agata