The Lands of the Tamed Turk; or, the Balkan States of to-day: A narrative of travel through Servia, Bulgaria, Montenegro, Dalmatia and the recently acquired Austrian provinces of Bosnia and the Herzegovina; with observations of the peoples, their races, creeds, institutions and politics, and of the geographical, historical and commercial aspects of the several countries — John Shaqi
The Lands of the Tamed Turk; or, the Balkan States of to-day: A narrative of travel through Servia, Bulgaria, Montenegro, Dalmatia and the recently acquired Austrian provinces of Bosnia and the Herzegovina; with observations of the peoples, their races, creeds, institutions and politics, and of the geographical, historical and commercial aspects of the several countriesJaekel, Blair
History
The Lands of the Tamed Turk; or, the Balkan States of to-day: A narrative of travel through Servia, Bulgaria, Montenegro, Dalmatia and the recently acquired Austrian provinces of Bosnia and the Herzegovina; with observations of the peoples, their races, creeds, institutions and politics, and of the geographical, historical and commercial aspects of the several countries
Jaekel, Blair
Balkan Peninsula
But eight hours’ travel in the local train so anæsthetized our desires
to continue the journey, on such a train, at least, that the little
vine-clad station at Nisch appealed to us most invitingly. We also
determined then and there to explore the town behind it.
A two-mile drive over even rougher cobbles than Belgrade can boast of,
connects the station with the centre of the town, and I might add that
it is the longest two miles I have ever driven.
As we rattled along, the diminutive one-story dwellings of Nisch
seemed to be scattered over an unlimited area. A single small mosque
constitutes the only remaining suggestion that the town was at one time
in the possession of the Turks.
Finally we stopped in front of one of the hotels—poor excuses,
all of them, believe me—and commenced to bargain and barter for
accommodations, only to discover that all of the rooms were occupied;
I doubt if the place could have housed more than half a dozen patrons
at one time. We tried another hostelry, with the same result. Then
another. The train on which we had arrived, the last one leaving Nisch
that day in either direction, had long since departed for Sophia;
the hotel people seemed anything but desirous of taking us in, for I
am dubious about their houses being so crowded as they were said to
be; and we commenced to consider a suitable place in which to leave
our luggage, so that we might at least walk the streets that night
unencumbered. Our driver, too, was apparently at his wits’ end, but
after we had tendered him an extra _dinare_ as a stimulant he _thought_
he knew of just _one more_ hotel where it _might be possible_ to
obtain rooms, and, accordingly, we were rattled thither. Here our
trials ended, for the proprietor of this place graciously consented to
accommodate us during our stay.
After first walking through a combination office and general
loafing-room, containing at one end a bar, reeking with foul-smelling
tobacco-smoke and alive with Servian officers who shuffled over the
sanded floor or played billiards at an antequated table or sat about
telling the gossip of the garrison, then through a labyrinth of narrow
passages, across a court and up two flights of stairs, we came upon our
room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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