The
views are magnificent, whether one looks down the valley to the
leafy shore, or, in an opposite direction, up to the grand heights
which, at this narrowest point of Calabria, separate the Ionian from
the Tyrrhene Sea. I could now survey the ravines which, in twilight,
had dimly shown themselves on either side of the mountain; they are
deep and narrow, craggy, wild, bare. Each, when the snows are
melting, becomes the bed of a furious torrent; the watercourses
uniting below to form the river of the valley. At this season there
was a mere trickling of water over a dry brown waste. Where the
abruptness of the descent does not render it impossible, olives have
been planted on the mountain sides; the cactus clings everywhere,
making picturesque many a wall and hovel, luxuriating on the hard,
dry soil; fig trees and vines occupy more favoured spots, and the
gardens of the better houses are often graced by a noble palm.
After my morning's walk I sought the residence of Signor Pasquale
Cricelli, to whom I carried a note of introduction. This gentleman
holds the position of English Vice-Consul at Catanzaro, but it is
seldom that he has the opportunity of conversing with English
travellers; the courtesy and kindness with which he received me have
a great part in my pleasant memory of the mountain town.
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