It was just coincidence that I found myself in Fogo holidaying with cousins from England just days after after reading John Crosbie’s interesting columns on the island and its increasingly famous inn.
The inn is easily noticed from many points in and around Joe Batt’s Arm and we took a number of pleasing pictures, but upon wanting to get closer, we were greeted by a guard in a small cabin at the start of a 500 or so metre road from highway to inn.
The guard was pleasant enough, but made it quite clear that without some sort of reservation, even for lunch, we weren’t going down the road. Evidently, the gentry don’t want retired Memorial University professors wandering through the lobby of the hotel.
To be fair, not all us felt the same, but I personally felt miffed and insulted. I have wandered around the grounds and interior of hotels far more posh than the inn on Fogo, most recently the incredible Hotel del Coronado off the coast of San Diego (a favourite of Ronald Reagan’s, for instance), and have never ever been made to feel unwelcome.
If the foolish rich wish to waste their money in a very isolated hotel in full confidence that they won’t have to rub shoulders with the common folk, let them do so. I have lost all interest in the place.
Edgar G. Goodaire