The chain of the Ligurian Apennines is by no means of uniform height, but, like that of the Alps, it consists of mountain masses separated by passes. The lowest of these passes is that to the west of Savona, named indifferently after one of the neighbouring villages, Altare, Carcara, or Cadibona. This pass is hardly more than 1,600 feet in height, and is popularly looked upon as constituting the boundary between the Alps and Apennines. The possession of this pass during war has {232} always been considered of great importance, for it commands the approaches to Genoa and the upper valleys of Piemont, and the Tanaro and Bormido, which rise near it, have often run with blood.

The Apennines to the east of this pass have an average height of 3,300 feet, and beyond the Pass of Giovi (1,538 feet), through which the road leads from Genoa to the northern plains, many summits attain a height of 4,500 feet. Several spurs, abounding in ravines, extend here to the north. The main chain, at the same time, retires from the coast, and the Pass of Pontremoli, which separates the Ligurian from the Tuscan Apennines, and through which leads the road from Parma to Spezia, is no less than thirty miles from the sea. In this eastern portion of the Genoese Apennines a spur detaches itself from the main chain, and terminates in the fine promontory of Porto Venere, a magnificent rock of black marble, surmounted formerly by a temple of Venus. This spur, which protects the Gulf of Spezia against westerly winds, has at all times constituted an obstacle to the intercourse between neighbouring peoples, not so much on account of its height, but because of its steepness. In some places the crest of the Apennines is hardly more than four miles from the sea. The slope, in such places, is exceedingly steep, and roads can ascend it only in numerous windings.[77]

The small width of the maritime slope of the Ligurian Apennines accounts for the absence of perennial rivers. The most considerable streams to the east of the Roya, which runs for the greater part through French territory, such as the Taggia or the Centa, only assume the appearance of rivers when the snows melt, or after heavy rains. Ordinarily they are but small streams, closed at the mouth by bars of pebbles. Between Albenga and Spezia, for a distance of 160 miles, there are only torrents, and in order to meet again with a real river we must go beyond the Gulf of Spezia. This river is the Magra, which separates Liguria from Etruria, and which, up to the epoch of Augustus, formed the boundary of Italy. Its alluvium has converted an ancient bay of the sea into a lake, and formed a beach, 1,300 yards in width, in front of the ancient Tyrrhenian city of Luni, which formerly stood on the seashore.

The want of great rivers in Liguria is compensated for to some extent by subterranean water-courses. Several springs rise from the bottom of the sea, at some distance from the shore. The springs of La Polla, in the Gulf of Spezia, are amongst the most bountiful amongst them. They have been isolated by the Italian Government from the surrounding salt water, and their water is supplied to ships.

Owing to the absence of rivers, the sterility of the soil, and the steep escarpments, this portion of the Me­di­ter­ra­nean coast region contrasts strikingly with other parts of temperate Europe. Having reached the summit of the mountains beyond the magnificent chestnut forests at the head-streams of the Ellero, the Tanaro, and the Bormida, we look down upon a scene almost African in its character. Scarcely a blade of grass is to be seen between Nice and Spezia, and only the grass-plots, kept up at great expense in some pleasure-gardens, remind us that Piemont and {233} Lombardy are near at hand. Pines and brambles would have remained the only verdure in these Ligurian valleys and ravines if it were not for the transformation wrought by gardeners and agriculturists. Strange to say, trees do not ascend to the same height on the slopes of the Apennines as in the Alps, though the mean temperature is far higher, and at an altitude at which the beech still attains noble proportions in Switzerland we find it here stunted in growth. Larches are hardly ever seen.

The sea is as sterile as the land. There are neither shallows, islands, nor seaweeds affording shelter to fish. The cliffs descend precipitously into the sea, and the narrow strips of beach, extending from promontory to promontory, consist only of sand without the admixture of a single shell. The Genoese fishermen, therefore, resort to distant coasts, those of the “Ponente,” or west, going to Sicily, whilst those of Camogli, on the Riviera di Levanto, visit the coasts of Tuscany. This sterility of land and sea accounts for the large number of Genoese met with in other parts of the world.

But though an unfruitful country, Liguria is exceedingly picturesque. A traveller availing himself of the railway between Nice and Genoa, which follows the sinuosities of the coast and pierces the promontories in numerous tunnels, is brought within reach of the most varied scenery. At one time the line runs close to the beach, with the foam of the sea almost touching the track on the one side, while tamarisks bearing pink blossoms overshadow it from the other. Elsewhere we creep up the steep slope, and obtain a view of the cultivated terraces raised at immense labour by the peasantry, whilst the bluish sea is seen afar to the right, almost hidden by a grove of olive-trees, and stretching away until lost in the direction of Corsica. Towns, villages, old towers, villas, ship-yards, and other industrial establishments impart an almost infinite variety to the scenery. One town occupies the top of a hill, and, seen from below, its old walls and towers stand out boldly against the sky; another is built am­phi­thea­tri­cal­ly, close to the strand upon which the fishermen have drawn their boats; a third is hidden in a hollow, and surrounded by vines, olive, orange, and lemon trees. A date-tree here and there imparts an oriental aspect to the landscape. Bordighera, a small place close to the French frontier, is quite surrounded by palm-trees, whose fruit, however, but rarely ripens.

The climate of Albenga, Loana, and some other places on the Genoese coast is far from salubrious, on account of the miasmata exhaled by sheets of stagnant water left behind by freshets. Even Genoa cannot boast of an agreeable climate, not because there are marshes near it, but because the southerly winds charged with moisture are caught there by the semicircle of mountains, and are made to discharge their superabundant humidity. The number of rainy days at Genoa averages 121 a year. There are, however, several towns along this coast protected by the mountains against the north, and yet out of the usual track of the moisture-laden southerly winds, whose climate is exceptionally delightful.[78] Bordighera {234} and San Remo, near the French frontier, are the rivals of Mentone as regards climate; and Nervi, to the east of Genoa, is likewise a favourite place of resort, on account of its clear sky and pure atmosphere. Villas and castles rise on every promontory and in every valley of these favoured districts. For a dozen miles on either side of Genoa the coast is lined by villas. The population of the city has overflowed the walls which once confined it, and is establishing itself in populous suburbs. The long street which winds between factories and gardens, scales promontories, and descends into valleys, will continue to grow in length until it extends along the whole coast of Liguria, for the charms of the country attract men of leisure from every quarter of Europe.

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