The Sunny South: An Autumn in Spain and MajorcaClayton, John William
History
The Sunny South: An Autumn in Spain and Majorca
Clayton, John William
Majorca (Spain) -- Description and travel; Spain -- Description and travel
We landed at the _Fonda de Madrid_, where we intended to take up our
quarters; but before ascending the spacious marble stairs we found
it necessary to make way for a troop of blind beggars who were being
conducted down step by step by their friends. These poor creatures
were suffering from the local disease of ophthalmia, and the cause
of their assemblage on the present occasion was, that once a week a
good doctor holds a levee in the hotel for the gratuitous treatment of
their malady, _para caridad y para el amor de Dios_. Such disinterested
benevolence, which is by no means uncommon among medical men in all
countries, is very praiseworthy; but at the same time we are bound to
confess that the sights which are sometimes brought under our eyes on
such occasions are far from agreeable to casual tourists.
The train by which we had arrived was--considering that it was one of
the _cosas de España_--naturally late. We had been altogether eighteen
hours on the journey from Madrid. However, before breaking our fast,
in fact immediately on our arrival at the _fonda_ at Valencia, we
naturally asked for the sea. "Three miles off at the port of El
Grao,"[23] was the answer. Here, _acqui, tout de suite, una tartana_,
look sharp! and we were immediately rushing through the streets, and
out of the city into the long yellow roads, with the sand and dust
up to the axle of the two-wheeled gondola, in quest of our bath. We
passed over a splendid bridge, spanning the waterless river Turia or
Guadalaviar, and commanding a splendid view of Valencia, with all its
coloured spires and domes resting against the spotless sky. We were
driven through a long avenue of acacias and palms until, as we were
going due east, we were naturally brought up by the sea. "A boat, a
boat,"--_batel_, _batel!_ we exclaimed; and in answer to our summons,
about twenty almost naked fishermen with red rags round their loins
immediately pulled to shore, like a swarm of minnows attracted by a
piece of bread; but although we wanted a _batel_, we had no desire
to fight. However, in a few minutes we were stripped and swimming
away merrily on the buoyant wave, so deep, clear, and blue; inhaling
health, strength, and delight at every stroke. The rugged outlines of
the lofty mountains of the Spanish coast were gradually fading from
sight in the morning haze, while, afar off, as we lay motionless on
our backs floating on the calm surface of the sea, the eye caught the
distant gleam of the long sail of many a felucca, softly pink in the
reflection of the morning's glow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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