The other fork turns aside into a promenade (now in course of formation), as yet short, by the margin of the sea and along the rocks of the coast, which will, when completed, become, as even now to some extent it is, a very agreeable accession to the amenity of the east bay, where there are not so many nice walks as are in the neighbourhood of the west bay. Reaching the gorge, which forms a dividing ravine between the mountains of the Berceau and Belinda, and is crossed by a bridge, conspicuous from most parts of Mentone, standing about 200 feet above the stream below, and a good deal more below the rocks towering above, we can at the north end of the bridge place one foot in France and the other in Italy. The Italian _douaniers_ have a station–house a little beyond, perched prominently on the summit of the rock. The French _douaniers_ have theirs on the road near to the junction of the above–mentioned two roads, the two houses being stationed considerably apart, as if to prevent the possibility of quarrel. The view from the bridge is remarkably fine, and should be seen in the morning, as when the sun gets round to the west or south–west, it throws much of the scene into the shade, and is, besides, too dazzling to behold. The harbour lies under us, a good mile off, with its few ships and boats, and the picturesque old town; beyond it, the west bay, Cape Martin, and all the panorama of mountains which stretch to the north and north–west of Mentone, the aspect of whose outlines and rugged tops, being so near, changes at every different point of view. * * * * *