V
GRADO TO TRIESTE
There is a small steamer which plies from Grado to Trieste, going one day and returning the next, but fine weather is very necessary for that mode of travel, as the sea can be very rough between Venice and Trieste. We did not hit the day of its sailing, so retraced our steps to Villa Vicentina and went viâ Monfalcone and Nabresina. Between these two places the railway rises steadily, giving fine views over the sea and plain. Looking forward and back the pale-grey line of the viaducts winds round and about the slopes like some gigantic snake, or like the aqueducts of the Campagna of Rome. Here the grey limestone breaks through the vegetation more and more, for the line is approaching the lofty stony plateau of the Karst, and enormous heaps of débris accentuate the position of the numerous quarries. They are very extensive, going far into the rock, which is also pierced by many great hollows, like entrances to an unknown under-world. All over Istria these memorials of sunken river channels occur—a maze of holes and paths, in which the water is still sinking deeper through the porous stone as through a sieve. Curious funnel-shaped depressions often occur amid uniform slopes, several hundred feet across and sometimes 200 ft. deep, as if worn by ancient whirlpools, and many of the rivers become subterranean, sometimes coming to the surface again many miles away. The river Rjeka, for instance, enters into the grottoes of S. Canzian, near Divača—a succession of narrow abysses, hollows, pits, waterfalls, and stalactite grottoes, with pools in them; and other examples will be noted farther down the coast.
The Castle of Duino has been called "The pearl of the Coastlands." It stands finely upon its rock, just where the diluvial plain meets the lime or sandstone formation. In a couple of hundred paces or so the vegetation changes its character from that of upper Italy to the softness of the southern islands, the sheltered slope to the sea being like an evergreen garden. Aloes root in the rocks as at Sorrento, and even in winter the purple cyclamen may be found in flower. Its name in antiquity was Castrum Pucinum. Here Augustus had a villa, whence the best wine for his table was brought. From the line, too, the campanili of Grado and Aquileia are visible, far away over the plain, dark against lagoon or sky in the evening, or flashing white in the morning sun.
At Monfalcone we took corner seats in an unoccupied carriage, but while we were arranging our things an old man, rather infirm, got in and made me to understand that he wanted mine. German was the language which he spoke. I thought perhaps I was intruding, though there was nothing on the seat to show that it was taken, so gave it up. We had two nice youths, who were talking Italian, at the other end of the compartment, cadets of some kind in uniform, going home for the Easter holidays. The old man was very short-sighted and gazed at the landscape through a little telescope. When we left Nabresina and went the other way to run down to Trieste, the views changed to the other side of the carriage, and to my astonishment the selfish old fellow moved across and turned one of the youths out of his place! to which he submitted quite meekly.
The descent from the high land to the coast level is very fine, the eye ranging far over the blue water, headland projecting beyond headland, paler and more diaphanous, till the historic point of Salvore fades into the distance scarcely distinguishable. Below the blue is stained by the smoke of steamers and flecked with the many-coloured sails of other craft, while in the middle-distance populous Trieste stretches round the curve of the bay, with many vessels at its wharves, and the smoke from the Lloyd-Arsenal mingling with that from the iron-works at Muggia beyond S. Servolo across the bay; or, if it should be night, lines of lights define the long stretch of quays and streets like strings of pearls, and sparkle up the heights which the houses climb in several directions. Prosecco is passed, which gives its name to a celebrated wine much esteemed in Trieste; Miramar, with its memories of the ill-fated Maximilian of Mexico, who delighted in its beautiful situation and splendour of appointment; then comes Barcola, where excavations have proved the existence of Roman villas, which have enriched the museum of Trieste with many interesting objects; and at last the train slackens and stops at the west end of the town, in the fine station built with that disregard for economy of space and lavish expenditure of material which the Englishman finds remarkable in Continental railway management.
SHIPPING AT TRIESTE: THE CANAL, WITH THE GREEK CHURCH AND SANT' ANTONIO
Trieste is primarily a modern town, and the people are very proud of the important buildings which adorn it, as they have every right to be. The post office, for instance, is palatial, and round and near to the Piazza Grande are large and showy edifices which include the Town Hall and the Lloyd Palace, while the Greek church is a fine building in the Byzantine style, decorated with mosaics, and the church of Sant' Antonio makes a very effective termination to the Canale Grande. The broad quays are thronged with people of many nationalities and varied costumes, from the ships which lie along them flaunting ensigns of all kinds—red and white crosses, blue, yellow, and black stripes, moons and stars—Italian, Norwegian, Greek, Turkish, French, and Montenegrin, as well as Istrian and Dalmatian. The Greek ships generally lie in the Canal, the Norwegian by the Molo S. Carlo (so called from a warship which was sunk in 1737), and beyond the health office for the port at the Molo Giuseppino, where many others also lie, and the various passenger steamers in definite berths—the big English steamers at the end of the projecting quays. From a Sicilian ship hundreds of chests of oranges and lemons may be seen unloading; from a Venetian trabarcolo great heaps of onions and ropes of garlic; an Istrian boat disgorges a small mountain of green water-melons; from a Dalmatian cutter barrel after barrel of wine is rolled out, much of which goes on to Bordeaux (!); and the same from a Greek schooner near, while its neighbour from the Levant lands grapes and chests of raisins, and the Norwegian ship brings train oil or wood. Many Turkish and Albanian costumes lighten up the crowd with their brilliant colours and quaint shapes, Bosniaks and Montenegrins are occasionally seen, and a fair number of Morlacchi, though fewer than lower down the coast. The weather-beaten Chioggian fishermen, too, with their red caps and waist-scarves, black curly hair and great rings in their ears, are very picturesque, though less unusual. The Triestines themselves are abandoning the old costume of the countryman, the "mandriere," described as consisting of a long waistcoat with great silver buttons hanging on it, short black hose open at the knee, and a short black, close-fitting jacket. In summer he wore a broad, flapping hat; in winter a costly cap of so-called beaver-skin, which he had probably inherited from his grandfather. The women had broad frocks with coloured borders, and a short, heavy cloth jacket; and on their heads a white linen cloth hanging down behind, with costly lace upon it. The girl of the people, the "sessolotta," and the seamstress, the "sartorella," both go bareheaded, and are proud of their hair; they are fond of flowers and songs, and spend much of their time in the open air. I quote a Gradese song, which is also sung at Trieste, and must be of some antiquity, since it names the gondola, which is not now seen either at Grado or Trieste.
Lisetta guarda, bella è la luna
Argento piove sulla laguna,
Non è una nuvola; quieto è il mar—
Lisetta, in gondola ti voi menar?
La bavisella che va soffiando
Con quel bel viso di quando in quando
I biondi boccoli te li fa far—
Lisetta, in gondola ti voi menar?