File:Mentone, Cairo and Corfu (1896) (14596999400).jpg

Identifier: mentonecairocorf00wool (find matches)
Title: Mentone, Cairo and Corfu
Year: 1896 (1890s)
Authors: Woolson, Constance Fenimore, 1840-1894
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Publisher: New York : Harper & Brothers
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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boldly from the water, their color that of a violet pansy ;a fishing-boat with red sails was crossing the fore-ground ; over all glittered an atmosphere so goldenthat it was like that of sunset in other lands, thoughthe sky, at the same time, had unmistakably the purityof early morning. Later, on the deck, during thebroadly practical time of after breakfast, this view,instead of diminishing in attraction, grew constantlymore fair. The French novelist of to-day, Paul Bour-get, describes Corfu as so lovely that one wants totake it in ones arms ! Another Frenchman, who wasnot given to the making of phrases, no less a person-age than Napoleon Bonaparte, has left upon record hisbelief that Corfu has the most beautiful situation inthe world. What, then, is this beauty ? What is thissituation? First, there is the long and charming approach, withthe snow-capped mountains of Albania, in EuropeanTurkey, looming up against the sky at the end; thencomes the landlocked harbor; then the picturesque
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289 old town, its high stone houses, all of creamy hue,crowded together on the hill-side above the sea-wall,with here and there a bell-tower shooting into the blue.Below is the busy, many-colored port. Above towersthe dark double fortress on its rock. And, finally, thedense, grove-like vegetation of the island encircles all,and its own mountain-peaks rise behind, one of themattaining a height of three thousand feet. There areother islands of which all this, or almost all, can besaid—Capri, for instance. But at Corfu there are twoattributes peculiar to the region; these are: first, thecolor ; second, the transparency. Although the voyagefrom Brindisi hardly occupies twelve hours, the atmos-phere is utterly unlike that of Italy ; there is no haze;all is clear. Some of us love the Italian haze (which isnot in the least a mist), that soft veil which makes themountains look as if they were covered with velvet.But a love of this softness need not, I hope, make ushate everything that is di

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