raised his voice to the maximum I looked towards the chandelier, but I never saw it swing. When he was there we stayed around the table for a long time singing Basque songs and we always ended up with "sardinitas" in several voices, repeating the song of those who at the market offered fresh sardines not for 10 pesetas, no, not even for 8 hours per 7, not for 5, fresh sardines for only 2 pesetas, who wanted fresh sardines for only 2 pesetas.
At the Finca there were occasionally fans of Ernest Hemingway who wanted to meet him or journalists who came specially from New York and sometimes Papa was happy, sometimes immediately after offering them a drink he said he was busy.
One day he warned me that a friend of his was coming, Gene Tunney, and while he was chatting with him in front of the Casita I called to let me meet him.
The big and tall man was very kind: he said that Venice was a beautiful city, he hoped I liked Havana, that I had a "very good time" in Cuba. I too wanted to be kind and to show interest I asked: "What is your profession?"
The big man looked at me and didn't answer. Papa also looked at me, then throwing a fist in the air: "This..." he said and I talk about something else.
"Who is Gene Tunney?" I asked Gianfranco later.
"Regardless of being a philosophy professor, he was world heavyweight champion after knocking out Jack Dempsey."
"Oh dear me! I understand why Papa looked at me seriously when I asked Tunney what his profession was!"
"Be more careful before asking the people who come to the Finca what their profession is." said Gianfranco. "Had you been here last year you would have risked asking Jean-Paul Sartre and Ilja Ehrenburg, too."
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