Zara, now, is specially celebrated for its mareschino, where are two manufacturies.
Our large party landing caused quite a flutter amongst the inhabitants, some of whom were most picturesque, the women with bright red and yellow aprons, white head shawls embroidered in many colours, blue skirts and red stockings. Some of the men in blue trousers, all rucked up the leg, red, gold-embroidered jackets were thrown over one shoulder, sashes were gleaming with knives, &c., tucked in, and a curious tiny red cap with a black tassel crowned all. This cap looks ridiculously small perched on the top of the head.
The country here is bare sandy rock, with a few shrubs dotted about, very barren all along the shore, and on a dull day would look very dreary no doubt, but with bright sunshine the sea is lovely, and the range of snow-capped mountains behind make a charming background. We did not land at Zara Vecchia, and were off at sunrise to Sebenico.
A lovely little spot is Sebenico, at the foot of those curious grey barren hills. We landed, and passed through a quaint doorway, with picturesque figures going to and fro, then went up a few steps to narrow streets—very narrow indeed, but clean, with many subjects for an artist, but alas! no time for me—only an hour or two, and what is that! We wandered about the streets and many appeals were made as to why I did not paint this and that—the questioners quite forgetting architectural subjects cannot be done in a minute, like the snapshot of a camera! After gazing at many fascinating bits, I decided to attempt an old carved door in a narrow street, and forthwith began, to be distracted very shortly by two funerals passing and re-passing, the mourners carrying each a guttering candle held at any angle and walking three abreast in the street five feet wide. My easel was once swept away by a boy, who, like most boys, did not look where he was going, luckily no damage was done and I settled to work again, to be three times disturbed, I having to flatten myself against the wall to let the mourners pass. I worked hard till dusk, then returned to the yacht.
I thought it a great pity we could not stay a few days at Sebenico, but on we rushed, and I must go too this time. I longed to stay and put all I saw on paper, of all this beautiful curious scenery, and at some future date, I hoped to be able to dawdle along this coast at my own sweet will.
One of our party bought a most curious knife from a very handsome native, who showed the purchaser its various uses—the knife was used to eat with, and shave with, &c., &c., the double pronged stiletto, which occupied the same sheath, was to dig into an enemy. This was about a foot long. These the natives carry tucked into their belts.
The Cathedral is very fine, Old Venetian, and had many fascinating corners for the artist.
After lunch we went up a serpentine gorge, so narrow, that every moment it seemed to come to an end. The sides were pinky-grey hills, barren except for a few shrubs, the whole colouring was most curious, the sea bright blue-green, contrasting with the rocky sides. A special pilot came on board for this cruise, and he nearly ran us into some rocks, not calculating how much room we took to turn the corners. When we arrived at the furthest limit that the yacht could go, we took to the launch, and approached the Falls of Krka, where the water comes down in tiers, very fine. Here electric light is being made. We walked up to a height for a view looking back, which was most extraordinary, the pinky-grey hills, with one long strip of winding emerald green water between.
My second visit to Sebenico was under more favourable circumstances, as I decided to leave the yacht and put up at the Hotel Krka with my courier.
La, La! the cold on this my second visit, but charmed am I to be here once more at this most fascinating little place, Sebenico, this time to stay a few days, but oh! the cold!! I have never felt anything like it in England, the north-east wind, the Bora (the wind of the dead) is blowing. I imagine it comes off the steppes of Russia, from its intense piercing coldness. The sun is nice and warm, if you can get out of the wind which rises very decidedly every afternoon. I landed from the yacht in the morning, escorted by my guide. An elaborate programme was made out, and it was intended we should travel through Herzegovina and Bosnia, visiting Jajce, Bajnaluka, Bihac (pronounced Beehatch), Novi, and Plitvice, where are wonderful lakes and cascades in continuation from one to the other. Part of the journey we carried out, but not all, as will be seen later on.