The promontory on which this small town lies, stretches far out into the sea. The town itself has been built on its west slope, and from Mentone always looks clothed in sunshine. Probably its half insular position may give a certain amount of softness to the air. It is now becoming a place of resort for invalids. The stranger population apparently is about from 150 to 200, more than one-half of whom are English. It is thought more bracing than Mentone, and may suit some constitutions; but it seems to want the shelter which most invalids require, and which is obtained elsewhere. It is, however, a bright-looking place, with several hotels. The Hotel de Bordighera, newly opened, is very pleasantly situated, with large garden in front. The other hotels are ‘D’Angleterre,’ ‘Beau Rivage,’ ‘Bellevue,’ and ‘Pension Anglaise.’ There are also about twenty villas, besides other houses, in which quarters may be obtained.
The people of Bordighera obtained from the Pope the privilege of supplying Rome with palms at Easter, in the manner afterwards mentioned (p. 298). The palm tree here, therefore, is a subject of special cultivation. We found the palm garden closed, presumably in preparation for Easter. Leaving the carriage, we ascended to the church or cathedral in the old town,—always a prominent object from Mentone,—and from this point, whence an extensive view is obtained, we took our last look, for that time, of the place where we had spent the previous three months so happily. Returning reluctantly to the carriage, we drove on, and soon passed round to the other side of the promontory, which thereupon shut out of view all the places whence we had come, and after proceeding seven or eight miles, reached San Remo.
SAN REMO.
San Remo is a place much recommended by physicians, often in preference to Mentone. Its air is said to possess all the invigorating qualities of that of Nice, with the warmth of that of Mentone; to be warm, exhilarating and soothing, and conducive to sleep. The mean winter temperature is stated by some accounts to be from 54° to 59° Fahrenheit; spring, 63° to 68°; summer, 72° to 85°; and autumn, 66° to 72°.[26] The icy Tramontane wind is said to be only slightly felt, and that in the west and more exposed end of the town, while the mistral is only known as a high wind. It is also asserted that the natives are healthy and long-lived. With all these recommendations as a health resort, San Remo cannot be considered to possess the attractions of Mentone, and it was with a feeling of disappointment we first entered the place. Perhaps our disappointment was increased by the difficulty of obtaining accommodation, and by the contrast in what we did obtain with what we had enjoyed at Mentone.
Arriving at the West End, we found all the hotels there full, and were glad to secure accommodation in one within the town, possessing a garden, dreary and overlooked by houses. The place—at all events externally—was not inviting; and as the weather was, during the greater part of our sojourn on this occasion, bad, with rain, our first impressions were not favourable.
San Remo is, like Mentone, surrounded by a half circle of mountains, but of a much softer-looking character. Bignole, the highest, is 4300 feet high. They do not approach so closely to the town, nor do they rear their heads so boldly, grandly, and picturesquely, but they do so without gap. In rear of them, though not visible from the town, are other and higher mountain ranges, belonging to the Maritime Alps. What are called rivers exist,—small narrow streamlets, scarcely amounting to what in Scotland we should term ‘burns,’—which trickle through the town (the Romulo after heavy rain was only three or four feet wide and a few inches deep); but they do not pass through valleys like those which give so marked a character to Mentone. San Remo also wants the protecting arms which Cape Martin, and Belinda, and Bordighera send out west and east into the sea. Capo Nero on the west and Capo Verde on the east no doubt create a bay, but are comparatively stunted arms. Then the railway passes along the coast and cuts the inhabitants off from the sea. There is therefore no promenade or road along the coast—a stupid mistake, to which the authorities ought never to have consented, and which deprives San Remo of what otherwise would have been its main attraction as a place of residence. The new town contains only a few good shops, in which things are not cheap. The old town, with a population double that of Mentone, is much larger than that of its rival. It is situated on a similar, but larger and loftier hill; but, unlike Mentone, which rests on the east, it rests mainly on the west slope of the hill, and is no doubt very picturesque, probably one of the most picturesque towns of the kind built for protection from the Algerine pirates. But though this may give value to it in the artistic eye, it is not a quality which contributes either to health or comfort; and one may justly say, parodying a common saying, ‘picturesque and nasty.’ Dirt, indeed, everywhere reigns—nay, some of the drains, even in the newer portion of the town, would seem to be above ground; and we found on our first visit the smells villanous,—a remark I am bound, however, to observe was not so applicable on occasion of our visit in the following year.
The railway station occupies a prominent position in the town, and passes by or cuts off the harbour, which lies outside of it. From the battlements or breakwater of this most untidily-kept harbour, a good view is had of the town and the mountains behind it. I made the ascent of the town through long narrow dirty winding vias, like Edinburgh High Street closes, only they are narrower, steeper, and tortuous, and far more dirty and unsavoury. Sometimes the road, paved with stone throughout, lies under dismal arched vaults, while the houses on each side are irregular and dilapidated—foul, dark, and dreary dens, rather than habitations for human beings. It was some relief to reach the platform on the summit, on which the large church called the sanctuary stands. From this point an excellent view is had all around. I descended by another of those curious vias, in which the houses support each other by arched flying buttresses, intended as a security against the effects of earthquakes, of which, however, we obtained no specimen shock during either of our visits to San Remo.
The mountains and hill-slopes surrounding San Remo are densely covered with olive trees, and to some extent with lemons, and afford shelter and walks to the visitors, but of a character differing entirely from those at Mentone. On the hillsides many wild flowers grow in rich profusion—hyacinths, narcissi, anemones, tulips, mignonette, gladioli, and others. Those who have been out exploring the country in the spring, return generally laden with bouquets, or rather bundles, of bright-coloured flowers.
Various excursions which may be taken to places among the mountains by assistance of donkeys, are described in a little volume called San Remo as a Winter Residence, by an Invalid, 1869 (Wm. Hunt and Co., London), to which, for further information regarding the town and locality, I would refer. I believe a lady is bringing out another guide-book with information up to date. In 1869, it would appear from the ‘Invalid’s’ little book that there were then only five hotels and twenty-three villas. Since the extension of the railway to San Remo, the number of both has largely increased. Now there are nine hotels and pensions in the east division of San Remo, and eleven in the west, some of which are said to be expensive. Of the West End hotels, one or two are situated well up on a hill-slope, the fatigue of greater ascent and the additional exposure being no doubt considered to be balanced by the expanded prospect. There are now also fully eighty villas east and west.
San Remo possesses, besides, a small public garden to the west of the old town—a very nice piece or strip of ground at the West End, laid out in walks and shrubbery, gifted by the Empress of Russia, who had honoured San Remo by her residence there some years ago. The gift is an accession to the place, and a pavilion has been erected, in which the band plays on certain days of the week. On other days it plays in the public garden or in a rondo at the East End. The West End of the town, where several of the best hotels are, has an open view to the sea,—that is to say, the sea can be seen from the road and public grounds,—and it is consequently more cheerful than the east; but it is much more exposed to the winds. The east end is more sheltered, and is thought to be more healthy. From the centre of the town eastwards, a broad pavement runs, provided here and there with wooden seats for the wearied pedestrian, and is practically terminated by the Hotel Victoria—a comfortable house, having a large garden reaching down to the sea, though the railway intersects a small portion of it at the bottom. A large hotel, called the Mediterranée, has recently been built adjoining the Victoria, having a similar piece of ground stretching to the railway and sea also, though of course more newly laid out as a garden. All along this road, till it reaches a point nearly two miles from the old town, it is cut off even from the view of the sea, to which the only access is by many narrow filthy walled lanes. Beyond the Victoria there are various nice villas, one especially, called the Villa Patrone, a choice specimen of elegant design, and of a mode of wall ornamentation in pebble peculiar to the Riviera.