The dwellings not immediately abutting on the harbour
are approached by blind low archways, and by crooked steps, as if
in darkness and in difficulty of access they should be like holds
of ships, or inconvenient cabins under water; and everywhere, there
is a smell of fish, and sea-weed, and old rope.
The coast-road whence Camoglia is descried so far below, is famous,
in the warm season, especially in some parts near Genoa, for fire-
flies. Walking there on a dark night, I have seen it made one
sparkling firmament by these beautiful insects: so that the
distant stars were pale against the flash and glitter that spangled
every olive wood and hill-side, and pervaded the whole air.
It was not in such a season, however, that we traversed this road
on our way to Rome. The middle of January was only just past, and
it was very gloomy and dark weather; very wet besides. In crossing
the fine pass of Bracco, we encountered such a storm of mist and
rain, that we travelled in a cloud the whole way. There might have
been no Mediterranean in the world, for anything that we saw of it
there, except when a sudden gust of wind, clearing the mist before
it, for a moment, showed the agitated sea at a great depth below,
lashing the distant rocks, and spouting up its foam furiously.
Pages:
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189