By the Ionian Sea: Notes of a Ramble in Southern Italy

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I shall look upon the Ionian Sea, not merely from a train or a steamboat as before, but at long leisure: I shall see the shores where once were Tarentum and Sybaris, Croton and Locri. Every man has his intellectual desire; mine is to escape life as I know it and dream myself into that old world which was the imaginative delight of my boyhood. The names of Greece and Italy draw me as no others; they make me young again, and restore the keen impressions of that time when every new page of Greek or Latin was a new perception of things beautiful. The world of the Greeks and Romans is my land of romance; a quotation in either language thrills me strangely, and there are passages of Greek and Latin verse which I cannot read without a dimming of the eyes, which I cannot repeat aloud because my voice fails me. In Magna Graecia the waters of two fountains mingle and flow together; how exquisite will be the draught!"},{"id":"content0:9","kind":"paragraph","text":"I drove with my luggage to the Immacolatella, and a boatman put me aboard the steamer. Luggage, I say advisedly; it is a rather heavy portmanteau, and I know it will be a nuisance. But the length of my wanderings is so uncertain, its conditions are so vaguely anticipated. I must have books if only for rainy days; I must have clothing against a change of season. At one time I thought of taking a mere wallet, and now I am half sorry that I altered my mind. But–"},{"id":"content0:10","kind":"paragraph","text":"We were not more than an hour after time in starting. Perfect weather. I sang to myself with joy upon the sunny deck as we steamed along the Bay, past Portici, and Torre del Greco, and into the harbour of Torre Annunziata, where we had to take on cargo. I was the only cabin passenger, and solitude suits me. All through the warm and cloudless afternoon I sat looking at the mountains, trying not to see that cluster of factory chimneys which rolled black fumes above the many-coloured houses. They reminded me of the same abomination on a shore more sacred; from the harbour of Piraeus one looks to Athens through trails of coal-smoke. By a contrast pleasant enough, Vesuvius to-day sent forth vapours of a delicate rose-tint, floating far and breaking seaward into soft little fleeces of cirrus. The cone, covered with sulphur, gleamed bright yellow against cloudless blue."},{"id":"content0:11","kind":"paragraph","text":"The voyage was resumed at dinner-time; when I came upon deck again, night had fallen. We were somewhere near Sorrento; behind us lay the long curve of faint-glimmering lights on the Naples shore; ahead was Capri. In profound gloom, though under a sky all set with stars, we passed between the island and Cape Minerva; the haven of Capri showed but a faint glimmer; over it towered mighty crags, an awful blackness, a void amid constellations. From my seat near the stern of the vessel I could discern no human form; it was as though I voyaged quite alone in the silence of this magic sea. Silence so all-possessing that the sound of the ship's engine could not reach my ear, but was blended with the water-splash into a lulling murmur. The stillness of a dead world laid its spell on all that lived. To-day seemed an unreality, an idle impertinence; the real was that long-buried past which gave its meaning to all around me, touching the night with infinite pathos. Best of all, one's own being became lost to consciousness; the mind knew only the phantasmal forms it shaped, and was at peace in vision."},{"id":"content1:0","kind":"heading","text":"CHAPTER II PAOLA"},{"id":"content1:1","kind":"paragraph","text":"I slept little, and was very early on deck, scanning by the light of dawn a mountainous coast. At sunrise I learnt that we were in sight of Paola; as day spread gloriously over earth and sky, the vessel hove to and prepared to land cargo. There, indeed, was the yellowish little town which I had so long pictured; it stood at a considerable height above the shore; harbour there was none at all, only a broad beach of shingle on which waves were breaking, and where a cluster of men, women and children stood gazing at the steamer. It gave me pleasure to find the place so small and primitive. In no hurry to land, I watched the unloading of merchandise (with a great deal of shouting and gesticulation) into boats which had rowed out for the purpose; speculated on the resources of Paola in the matter of food (for I was hungry); and at moments cast an eye towards the mountain barrier which it was probable I should cross to-day."},{"id":"content1:2","kind":"paragraph","text":"At last my portmanteau was dropped down on to the laden boat; I, as best I could, managed to follow it; and on the top of a pile of rope and empty flour-sacks we rolled landward. The surf was high; it cost much yelling, leaping, and splashing to gain the dry beach. Meanwhile, not without apprehension, I had eyed the group awaiting our arrival; that they had their eyes on me was obvious, and I knew enough of southern Italians to foresee my reception. I sprang into the midst of a clamorous conflict; half a dozen men were quarreling for possession of me. No sooner was my luggage on shore than they flung themselves upon it. By what force of authority I know not, one of the fellows triumphed; he turned to me with a satisfied smile, and—presented his wife."},{"id":"content1:3","kind":"paragraph","text":"\"Mia sposa, signore!\""},{"id":"content1:4","kind":"paragraph","text":"Wondering, and trying to look pleased, I saw the woman seize the portmanteau (a frightful weight), fling it on to her head, and march away at a good speed. The crowd and I followed to the dogana, close by, where as vigorous a search was made as I have ever had to undergo. I puzzled the people; my arrival was an unwonted thing, and they felt sure I was a trader of some sort. Dismissed under suspicion, I allowed the lady to whom I had been introduced to guide me townwards. Again she bore the portmanteau on her head, and evidently thought it a trifle, but as the climbing road lengthened, and as I myself began to perspire in the warm sunshine, I looked at my attendant with uncomfortable feelings. It was a long and winding way, but the woman continued to talk and laugh so cheerfully that I tried to forget her toil. At length we reached a cabin where the dazio (town dues) officer presented himself, and this conscientious person insisted on making a fresh examination of my baggage; again I explained myself, again I was eyed suspiciously; but he released me, and on we went. I had bidden my guide take me to the best inn; it was the Leone, a little place which looked from the outside like an ill-kept stable, but was decent enough within. The room into which they showed me had a delightful prospect. Deep beneath the window lay a wild, leafy garden, and lower on the hillside a lemon orchard shining with yellow fruit; beyond, the broad pebbly beach, far seen to north and south, with its white foam edging the blue expanse of sea. There I descried the steamer from which I had landed, just under way for Sicily. The beauty of this view, and the calm splendour of the early morning, put me into happiest mood. After little delay a tolerable breakfast was set before me, with a good rough wine; I ate and drank by the window, exulting in what I saw and all I hoped to see."}],"toc":[{"id":"content0:0:1","label":"George Gissing By the Ionian Sea: Notes of a Ramble in Southern Italy","page":1,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv#reader-content"},{"id":"content0:1:1","label":"CHAPTER I FROM NAPLES","page":1,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv#reader-content"},{"id":"content1:0:2","label":"CHAPTER II PAOLA","page":2,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=2#reader-content"},{"id":"content2:0:4","label":"CHAPTER III THE GRAVE OF ALARIC","page":4,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=4#reader-content"},{"id":"content3:0:6","label":"CHAPTER IV TARANTO","page":6,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=6#reader-content"},{"id":"content4:0:8","label":"CHAPTER V DULCE GALAESI FLUMEN","page":8,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=8#reader-content"},{"id":"content5:0:9","label":"CHAPTER VI THE TABLE OF THE PALADINS","page":9,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=9#reader-content"},{"id":"content6:0:11","label":"CHAPTER VII COTRONE","page":11,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=11#reader-content"},{"id":"content7:0:14","label":"CHAPTER VIII FACES BY THE WAY","page":14,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=14#reader-content"},{"id":"content8:0:16","label":"CHAPTER IX MY FRIEND THE DOCTOR","page":16,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=16#reader-content"},{"id":"content9:0:18","label":"CHAPTER X CHILDREN OF THE SOIL","page":18,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=18#reader-content"},{"id":"content10:0:20","label":"CHAPTER XI THE MOUNT OF REFUGE","page":20,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=20#reader-content"},{"id":"content11:0:22","label":"CHAPTER XII CATANZARO","page":22,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=22#reader-content"},{"id":"content12:0:25","label":"CHAPTER XIII THE BREEZY HEIGHT","page":25,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=25#reader-content"},{"id":"content13:0:26","label":"CHAPTER XIV SQUILLACE","page":26,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=26#reader-content"},{"id":"content14:0:28","label":"CHAPTER XV MISERIA","page":28,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=28#reader-content"},{"id":"content14:7:29","label":"CHAPTER XVI CASSIODORUS","page":29,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=29#reader-content"},{"id":"content15:0:31","label":"CHAPTER XVII THE GROTTA","page":31,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=31#reader-content"},{"id":"content15:9:33","label":"CHAPTER XVIII REGGIO","page":33,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=33#reader-content"},{"id":"content15:22:35","label":"THE END","page":35,"pageUrl":"/books/0UGZZYWv?page=35#reader-content"}]},"similarBooks":[{"idCatalog":761674,"shortId":"3mmYE1jk","title":"Die Harzreise","authorLine":"Генрих Гейне","primaryAuthorId":"8494061f-489c-102b-94c2-fc330996d25d","coverUrl":"https://storage.yandexcloud.net/bookra-catalog-pd-public/content/2f3b4264-993d-11e8-a002-0cc47a5f3f85/thumbs/400.webp","publicUrl":"https://bookra.app/books/3mmYE1jk"},{"idCatalog":760934,"shortId":"3LyU8fFY","title":"The Oregon Trail: Sketches of Prairie and Rocky-Mountain Life","authorLine":"Francis Parkman","primaryAuthorId":"7a0cbc38-ea98-11e0-9959-47117d41cf4b","coverUrl":"https://storage.yandexcloud.net/bookra-catalog-pd-public/content/1f885ed8-c54e-11e8-9614-0cc47a545a1e/thumbs/400.webp","publicUrl":"https://bookra.app/books/3LyU8fFY"},{"idCatalog":762490,"shortId":"0TVGtJ0y","title":"Le Tour du Monde; 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