“Purveyors of drinking-water were going from house to house with donkey carts laden with jars of porous earthenware....”
(page [126])
“... Flat-roofed, oriental-looking houses that resemble great cubes of chalk—a form of architecture which is a legacy from the Moors.”
(page [127])
From this height Formentara and all the lesser rocky islets that compose the Pityusæ group are clearly discerned out at sea. The general aspect of Iviza itself is that of low, wooded hills. Cutting straight across the island is the long white road leading to St. Antonio on the western coast, twelve miles distant, and some six miles to the south of us glisten the great salt works, the famous salinas of Iviza.
To St. Antonio we drove in the afternoon. It was Holy Week, during which no carriage is allowed to enter the town, and we had to walk out to the end of the street where a little carréta awaited us; it was driven by a comic looking countryman, and drawn by a spirited little grey horse, a caballo de carréra, one of the racing trotters for which the islanders have a great partiality. Packed into this small and fragile conveyance, the driver and our invaluable waiter in front, ourselves squeezed into the little side-seats behind, with every symptom of approaching cramp, we announced ourselves ready to start.