Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 1/2Scott, C. Rochfort (Charles Rochfort)
History
Excursions in the mountains of Ronda and Granada, with characteristic sketches of the inhabitants of southern Spain, vol. 1/2
Scott, C. Rochfort (Charles Rochfort)
Spain -- Description and travel
For my own part, I freely confess, that not even our English modes of
"getting over the ground" have such charms for me, as the tripping and
stumbling of one's horse over a Spanish _trocha_[13]--I take no delight
in being dragged through the country at the rate of a mile a minute,
powdered with soot, (pardon the bull) suffocated with steam, and
sickened with grease. Neither does our steady ten mile an hour
stage-coach travelling find much favour in mine eyes; though I grant it
is now most admirably conducted, the _comforts_ of the old "slow
coaches" being so happily blended with the accelerated _speed_ called
for in this progressive age, that a change of horses is effected in less
than one minute, and a feed of passengers in something under ten!--But I
always pity the victims of this unwholesome alliance of comfort and
celerity.--Observe that fidgety old gentleman, muzzled in a red worsted
_comforter_, and crowned with a Welsh wig. Having started without
breakfast, or at most with but half of one, he counts impatiently the
minutes and milestones that intervene between him and the dining-place;
arrived there, if five minutes before the appointed time, every thing is
underdone; if five minutes after, a deduction of equal amount is made in
the time allowed for despatching the viands. Swallowing, therefore, in
all haste the indigestible roast pork and parboiled potatoes that are
placed before him, he resumes his seat in or upon the vehicle,
declaring--whilst the unwholesome food sticking in his throat nearly
chokes him--that he "_feels all the better_" for his _dinner!_ soon
after which, with a flushed face and quickened pulse, he drops into a
feverish slumber, dreaming of mad bulls and carniverous swine, sloe
juice and patent brandy.
Towards midnight, the announcement of "a quarter of an hour, gentlemen"
(meaning something less than half that time), relieves him from these
painful reminiscences, affording an opportunity of washing them down
with some scalding liquid, which, though bearing the name of tea or
coffee, is a decoction of some deleterious plant or berry, that
certainly never basked under the sun of China or Arabia Felix.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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