Wanderings in Spain

by Théophile Gautier

I went down into the kitchen to implore them to give me some food, and, thanks to my eloquence, obtained some cutlets, a fowl fried in oil, and half of a water-melon, besides for dessert, some Barbary figs, whose prickly skin the landlady took off very dexterously. The water-melon did us a great deal of good; the rosy pulp contained inside its green rind has a most delightfully cool and thirst-assuaging look. Scarcely have you bitten it, before you are inundated up to your elbows with a very agreeably-flavoured and slightly sweet juice, which bears no sort of resemblance to that of our cantaloups. We really stood in need of this refreshing fruit to moderate the burning effects of the peppers and spices with which all Spanish dishes are seasoned. We were on fire internally and roasted externally; the heat was atrocious. We lay down upon the brick floor of our room, on which the forms of our bodies were marked by pools of perspiration. The only method we could discover for rendering the place, comparatively speaking, a little cool, was by closely shutting all the doors and windows, and remaining in complete darkness.

In spite of this Indian temperature, however, I boldly threw my jacket over my shoulder, and went out to take a turn in the streets of Alhama. The sky was as white as metal in a state of fusion: the pavingstones glistened as if they had been waxed and polished; the whitewashed walls presented a micaceous scintillating appearance, while the pitiless blinding sunshine penetrated into every hole and corner. The shutters and doors were cracking with heat, the gasping soil was full of yawning fissures, and the branches of the vines writhed like green wood when thrown into the fire; while, in addition to all this, there was the reflection of the neighbouring rocks, which cast back the rays of light even hotter than they were before. To complete my torture, I had got on very thin shoes, through which the pavement burnt the soles of my feet. There was not a breath of air, not so much wind as would have ruffled a feather. It is impossible to conceive anything more dull, more melancholy, or more savage.

I wandered at hazard through the solitary streets, whose chalk-coloured walls, pierced by a few windows, scattered far apart, and closed by means of wooden shutters, gave them a completely African appearance, until, I will not say without meeting a human being, but absolutely without seeing a living creature, I reached the great square, which is exceedingly picturesque and quaint. It is crossed by the stone arches of an aqueduct, and consists simply of a level space cleared away on the bare rock itself, which has grooves cut in it to prevent persons from slipping. The whole of one side overlooks the abyss, at the bottom of which peep out, from the midst of clumps of trees, several mills that are turned by a torrent which foams so violently that it resembles a quantity of soap-suds.

The hour fixed upon for our departure was approaching, and I returned to the posada wet through with perspiration, just as if I had been out in a heavy shower of rain, but satisfied at having done my duty as a traveller, although you might have boiled eggs by the mere heat of the atmosphere.

Our caravan again set out, proceeding through most abominable but highly picturesque roads, where no other creature but a mule could have stood without falling. I had thrown the bridle on the neck of mine, thinking that he was better qualified to direct his steps than I was, and leaving him all the responsibility of passing the dangerous points. I had already had several very animated discussions with him, in order to induce him to walk beside the mule of my companion, but I was at last convinced of the inutility of my efforts. I bow, in all submission, to the truth of the saying—As obstinate as a mule. Give a mule the spur and it will stand still; touch it with a whip, it will lie down; pull it up, and it will start off at full gallop: in the mountains, a mule is really intractable; it feels its importance and takes a most unfair advantage of it. Very often, right in the middle of the road, a mule will suddenly stop, raise its head, stretch out its neck, draw back its lips, so as to expose its gums and long teeth, and indulge in a series of the most horrible inarticulate sighs, convulsive sobs, and frightful clucking, resembling the shrieks of a child who is being murdered. During the time it is indulging in this system of vocalization you might kill it, without being able to make it move one step.

Our path now lay through a veritable Campo Santo. The crosses erected where murders had been committed, became frightfully numerous: in the situations that were favourable to this kind of thing, we sometimes counted more than three or four crosses in less than a hundred paces; we were no longer on a road, but in a cemetery. I must own, however, that if it were the custom in France to perpetuate the memory of violent deaths by the erection of crosses, there would be quite as many of them in certain streets of Paris as there are on the road from Grenada to Velez-Malaga. The dates of a great number of these sinister monuments are already very old; it is very certain, however, that they keep the traveller's mind actively employed, rendering him attentive to the slightest noise, causing him to look very carefully about him, and hindering any feeling of ennui. At every turn of the road, he says to himself, if he sees a rock that looks at all suspicious, or a mysterious cluster of trees: "There is some vagabond concealed behind there, who is the act of taking aim, and is on the point of making me the pretext for another cross destined to edify the travellers of future generations who may happen to pass by the spot."

When we emerged from the defiles, the crosses became somewhat less frequent. Our road now lay along the bases of stern, grand mountains, whose summits were cut off by immense archipelagos of mist. The country was a complete desert, with no other habitations save the reed hut of some aguador, or vender of brandy. This brandy is colourless, and is drunk out of long glasses filled up with water, which it causes it to turn white exactly as Eau-de-Cologne would.

The weather was heavy and stormy, and the heat suffocating: a few large drops of water, the only ones that had fallen for a space of four months, from the implacable sky of lapis-lazuli, spotted the parched sand, and made it resemble a panther's skin; however, there was no shower after all, and the canopy of heaven resumed its immutable serenity. The sky was so constantly blue during my stay in Spain, that I find the following notice in my pocketbook: "Saw a white cloud," as if such an object was worthy of being especially recorded. We inhabitants of the north are so accustomed to behold the heavens covered with clouds, constantly varying in form and colour, and with which the wind builds mountains, islands, and palaces, that it soon destroys again to build elsewhere, that we cannot form any conception of the feeling of profound melancholy caused by this azure tint, as uniform as eternity itself, and which is always hanging over one's head. In a little village which we traversed, all the population were standing outside their houses in order to enjoy the rain, just as we should go in doors to avoid it.

The night has set in without any twilight, almost in an instant, as is the case in warm climates, and we were not very far from Velez-Malaga, where we intended sleeping. The mountain-steeps began to be less abrupt, and gradually subsided in small stony plains, traversed by streams fifteen or twenty feet broad, and one foot deep; their banks were covered with gigantic reeds. The funeral crosses again became more numerous than ever, and their white colour caused them to stand out distinctly from the blue mist of night. We counted three of them in the distance of twenty paces, but the fact is, that the spot presents a most lonely appearance, and is admirably adapted for an ambuscade.