Through Spain to the Sahara by Matilda Betham-Edwards

Author:Matilda Betham-Edwards [Betham-Edwards, Matilda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Historical, General
ISBN: 9783752353006
Google: yYnzDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: BoD – Books on Demand
Published: 2020-07-27T00:36:02+00:00

Los odiosos errores de Lutero.”

(The odious errors of Luther were prospering in the Low Countries.)

There is a charming view from the terrace of the convent, which, perhaps, repays the traveller for his trouble more than anything to be seen within its walls. The Cathedral every one will naturally visit, on account of the superb monuments of Ferdinand and Isabella. Mass was going on when we entered, and we could not but notice the terribly irreverent behaviour of the congregation, the choristers, and acolytes. They had, some of them, vicious faces, and all stared about and whispered to each other, and behaved as if they were at a bull-fight.

In the afternoon we drove on the Alameda, very gay at this hour, with a band playing, and ladies promenading, as a Spanish author says, in all their “atractivos;” officers darting past on pretty Andalusian horses, and all the world of Granada out for a holiday.

Granada is very conservative,—Españolisimo still to the backbone, which is rather trying to a traveller’s patience. In spite of the annual influx of foreigners, a foreigner is still stared at and commented on. If you sit down to make a sketch, you are sure to have an obtrusive crowd around you, and I don’t think English ladies could walk with comfort in the town unless accompanied by a guide. At least, we were advised not to try it. It is not that the common people are malicious, but they are so childishly astonished at the sight of strangers, that you feel as if you were a bear being led through a country-town on fair day. Every one has something to say about the bear.

Some of the people were, nevertheless, delightful, the family at the Ortiz, for example. The father acted as cook, the mother as house-keeper, the daughters as chambermaids, and the son as waiter. All were kindly, intelligent, and as gay as larks from morning till night. There was always singing in the house and garden, the same monotonous Arab singing we used to hear at Toledo and Cordova, but here, in sprightly Andalusia, it was infinitely improved upon. The daughters of the house were very pretty, with bright eyes, small regular features, elegant little figures, and great vivacity of expression. One was married, and had a dear little girl, about three, who used to greet us with an English “good morning!” she had learned somewhere. When their work was done, and it seemed done very early in the day, the sisters used to sit on the doorsteps, a friend or two would join them, and what with gossip, needle-work, and singing, they had a merry time of it.

The hotel was quite a little paradise of pleasantness and comfort. From every window were long views of the Alhambra walls and garden; there were very few visitors excepting ourselves, so that we had the salle à manger to ourselves, and the people were so kind and careful of our comfort that we could willingly have stayed a month.

Though we were already in December the weather was perfect, soft, golden, and balmy.

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