Let me suggest if you get to a strange city, and you're by yourself, and you think "It would be neat to read a novel set in this city while I'm here!", do NOT pick up a serial killer book set in the city you're in.
Scared the crap out of myself in Montreal that way...
When my grandparents still lived in Boston we would always drive past the salt and pepper bridge to see Mr and Mrs Mallard. I love that book.
The first time I was in Boston, the friend I was traveling with and I happened upon the swan boats, and I started babbling about The Trumpet of the Swan and how much I'd ADORED that book as a child. Val had never read it and looked at me like I was mildly crazy.
Reading as much historical fiction as I do, I have to confess that the line between historical and literary pilgrimage gets a bit blurred. E.g. at Culloden I was thinking of Jamie Fraser and not just the real-life tragedy of the place.
See, in Bath I was totally not thinking of Bronte -- I was thinking of the Wife of Bath!
Strangely enough for an English teacher, I didn't really get hung up on literary things when I was in London. I was all about the passage of history.
I remember touching a Roman wall at the Museum of London, and about having a historical orgasm just thinking about all the people who have touched it through the years, who they were, when they were, their hopes and dreams and fears -- their essential humanity.
whitehorse tavern -check
Mark twain's house in Hartford
when DH and I were in london we found 84 charing cross road (it is a pizza shop). That was the only deliberate one.We went lots of other places that were literary -but they were mixed up with the historical.
and when arrived in SF we ran all over the city looking for places from
Tales of the City
When we went to Hawaii I read Michners's book. More for context then for pilgrimage planning
I 've been thinking about what Erin said. I love going places that are crowded with history
The first time I was in Boston, the friend I was traveling with and I happened upon the swan boats, and I started babbling about The Trumpet of the Swan and how much I'd ADORED that book as a child. Val had never read it and looked at me like I was mildly crazy.
I felt the same way when I saw the swan boats in Boston! Also, when I saw the pond in Central Park where Stuart Little raced his little ship.
I remember touching a Roman wall at the Museum of London, and about having a historical orgasm just thinking about all the people who have touched it through the years, who they were, when they were, their hopes and dreams and fears -- their essential humanity.
I get that same tingle, but being the Midwesterner that I am, anything older than 1875 can do that to me. The one time I was in Boston and saw a graveyard with stones going back to the 1700s gave me chills.
I've walked through what remains of the 100 Acre Wood, and played Pooh Sticks at Pooh Sticks Bridge.
I felt just the same way about the London wall. I'm not alone!
Literary pilgrimages:
Green Gables on PEI
Orchard House
Walden Pond
House of Seven Gables
Hannibal, Missouri
A drink at the Hay-Adams Hotel, on the site of the home Henry Adams built with John Hay.
Hadrian's Wall (Rosemary Sutcliff)
221 Baker Street
The home where Samuel Johnson wrote the dictionary
Stratford upon Avon
Tintagel and Glastonbury (Arthur)