With a Camera in Majorca by Margaret D'Este

Author:Margaret D'Este [D'Este, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nonfiction, Travel
ISBN: 4064066232405
Google: OL9CAAAAIAAJ
Publisher: Good Press
Published: 2019-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Street at the Port of Sollér “The port of Soller is a fishing village of narrow streets....”

(page 89)

* * *

Palmer from the Holy Land “We came up with a palmer from the Holy Land, posting along at five miles an hour.”

(page 87)

* * *

The Archduke is the author of a very exhaustive and profusely illustrated work on the Balearics, “Die Balearen in Wort und Bild”; but unfortunately it is too costly a work to become generally known, or it would bring many travellers to visit the islands which the author loves so well.

On leaving Miramár we continue along the coast to Deya, a picturesque village of clustered houses and steep streets of steps, perched upon an isolated peak and backed by high mountains. Here we caught sight of a strange figure striding along the road ahead of us, and presently we came up with a holy palmer, who might have stepped straight out of the twelfth century—with cockleshells and staff, and with his sandal shoon. He was posting along at five miles an hour with a dog at his heels.

“Whither away, O Father?” we asked with respectful salutation.

“Over the whole world, my children,” replied the old man, turning upon us a rugged face framed in long grey locks.

We learnt that he was a native of Spain, and had for years been on a pilgrimage to the most sacred shrines in all lands; he had been in the Holy Land and in Egypt—had visited St. James of Compostella, and Rome, and Lourdes—and now was on his way to the shrine of Our Lady of Lluch. His wallet contained his papers—viséd at his various halting places—together with a few treasured relics from the Holy Sepulchre; of money he had no need, since the faithful everywhere would give him food and a night’s lodging, for the labourer is worthy of his hire. But he dare not tarry, for he had yet far to go, and with a “Buen viaje!” we drove on and soon lost sight of the solitary pilgrim who in this strange fashion was working out his own salvation.

The town of Sollér lies almost at sea-level, in a spacious valley ringed round with mountains around whose grey peaks buzzards and ravens—dwarfed by distance to the size of midges—circle and slant for ever to and fro.

Warm and sheltered, rich with orange and lemon groves, date palms and loquats, and entirely enclosed with hills but for an opening down to the little port on the north, Sollér is Majorca’s garden of the Hesperides. Though it is only April 3rd, the roses are running riot in the gardens of Son Angelāts, a fine house on the outskirts of the town belonging to a Marchésa who only resides there in summer time; it has terraces overlooking Sollér, and large grounds laid out with orange groves, tall palms, and flowering shrubs; roses cover the terrace walls and climb up into the grey olive-trees from whence they fall back in festoons—and the gardener breaks off

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.