Proceedings of the expedition to explore the northern coast of Africa, from Tripoly eastward : $b in MDCCCXXI. and MDCCCXXII., comprehending an account of the Greater Syrtis and Cyrenaica; and of the ancient cities composing the pentapolisBeechey, Frederick William
History
Proceedings of the expedition to explore the northern coast of Africa, from Tripoly eastward : $b in MDCCCXXI. and MDCCCXXII., comprehending an account of the Greater Syrtis and Cyrenaica; and of the ancient cities composing the pentapolis
Beechey, Frederick William
Sidra, Gulf of (Libya); Tripoli (Libya) -- Antiquities; Tripoli (Libya) -- Discovery and exploration
It could not, therefore, be contrast that made the vallies of
Ptolemeta appear to us in such captivating forms and colours—it
was the simple impression which Nature’s favourite spots never
fail to create on the imagination—heightened only, perhaps,
by the solitude of the scene, and the wild, romantic elegance of
its character. There are beauties which may be felt, but cannot be
described; and the charm of romantic scenery is one of them.
We will not therefore attempt any other description of the eastern
valley of Ptolemeta, than by remarking that it rises gradually
from the sea, winding through forests of pine and flowering shrubs,
(which thicken as the sides of the mountain on which they grow become
higher and more abrupt,) till it loses itself in the precipitous part
of the range which bounds it to the southward, and which presents a
dark barrier of thickly-planted pines, shooting up into the blue sky
above them. The windings of the valley greatly add to its beauty,
and the scenery increases in interest at every turn, in tracing
it up towards the mountains in which it loses itself. Sometimes
the path is impeded by trees, which throw their branches across
it, leaving only a narrow passage beneath them; and sometimes, on
emerging from this dark and difficult approach, a broad sweep of
verdant lawn will suddenly present itself, fenced in, apparently,
on all sides, by high walls of various-coloured pines, rising one
above the head of the other, in all the grandeur of uniformity. On
reaching the opposite end of this verdant amphitheatre, a new scene
presents itself, before unsuspected; and the rambler, bewildered
with variety, finds himself utterly incapable of deciding which
pleases him most, or when he shall feel himself equal to the task of
tearing himself away from the spot. We confess that, when first we
discovered this valley, the shades of night surprised us before we
thought the sun had set, far in its deepest recesses; and we never
afterwards visited it without regretting that our occupations would
not allow us more leisure to admire it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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