GOLDEN DAYS IN MANY LANDS

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 252, 21 October 1908, Page 6

GOLDEN DAYS IN MANY LANDS

(BY WINIFRED B. LEYS.) FROM ROME TO MARSEILLES VTA GENOA AND NICE. (Concluded.) One bright autumn morning we set out from Genoa for Nice, accomplishing that day half the journey along the Riviera, which is surely the most delightful coastal train route in the world. The formation of the hills is such that they rise gradually from the sea, thus the railway track is cut out of their lowest | slopes, and the embankments are washed' by the lapping waves of the very bluest sea the sun ever shines upon. As we passed- along on that autumn morning we looked down upon stretches of carnation beds, the plants grown practically in the sand, and carefully trained over string frames. Iri the spring and winter the Riviera flower market is a. source of great profit. Each bay has its little town of white houses, rising terrace above terrace up the hills, and bidding farewell to one we would plunge through a projecting point to come out at its neighbour in the bay beyond. The hills are of a red soil and naturally very barren, but cultivation has surrounded the little towns with palms and green trees j of every description, and in the gardens : climbing roses and flowering shrubs make a noble show. One meets "with, queer folks on such a train as the Riviera express, but as most are purely holiday-makers, they. show more signs of amiability than is the general rule, with train companions. On my first journey from Monte Carlo to Genoa some years ago, we fell in with a young Englishman, who, as an example of our countryman, beset with a fierce determination to be amiable at all costs while abroad, was perfectly irresistible. Last year, while doing the reverse journey from Genoa to Nice, our carriage, companion was a young German cavalry officer, who, though he had never set foot in England, spoke our language with great ease and. fluency— a fact which so often impresses one when abroad. Becoming confidential, he told us that -when he got his furlough he cairie each year for a flutter at Monte Carlo, limiting the amount he risked to what corresponded to £50 in our money. When bis few days had elapsed, or his money melted, he proposed to visit bis no doubt adoring mother, who was awaiting her son at a favourite resort on- one of the Italian lakes. But lie candidly admitted that the dreamy beauty of Maggiore would soon paJl upon bis dashing instincts, and after having eased his conscience by two days of attendance on bis mother, he intended to bid her farewell and pass northwards for a month among the joys of Paris, which he had apparently fairly well sampled already. At VentimigTia we bade farewell to Ttalv, and entered France. There seem" to be some evil genius lurking on this border station, which has tvriee conspired to make mc miss my train. On the first occasion by not taking into account the fact that our train kept French time on arrival, arid Italian time on departure, we weTe loitering at tbe fer end of the platform, when the whistle blew, and, as we sank breathless into our seats, tbe train moved out of the station. On the second occasion, by injudiciously over-packing my portmanteau, and it having the misfortune to be the one selected for examination by the . Customs' official, we barely got through , the gates as the train moved off, and wo .would have been left lamenting but . 1 for the consideration of tbe engine' 11 driver, who, seeing a party of would- ! be passengers bounding over the rails, , ] eased up a little and allowed us to jump , j aboard. - - -. - .- - • ■ I. From- Ventimigiia tho winding route .[.along.the coast bring? us quickly past J MentcEc, and Menace to Nisc. In _n.%

the most popular of the Riviera resorts,' we stayed for several days, making excursions along the coast to the other towns. But, though one gets a picture of the beaaity of the towns and "of the long shady boulevards of Nice, and its magnificent promenade, none the less, out of season. Nice, Monte Carlo, Mentone, Beaulieu—any one of these gay winter resorts is dull. They are playgrounds, gardens, in fact, planned as a setting for gorgeous frocks, and for merry laughter, or for the dawning .smile on .the face of the invalid who, fleeing from the bitter winter -winds of Northern Europe feels, among so much sunshine, and brightness, new strength and lightheartedness.. come to him." Nice, however, is npt quite so dead in the summertime as Cannes, Monte Carlo, or "Mentone, for it possesses a fine harbour, and its shipping" trade is a large source of its prosperity. But, out of season, the hotels on the long 1 Promenade' dcs Anglais that overlooks the sea, are closed, and on the promenade itself we met only a handful of idle tourists like ourselves, or a few of the permanent residents. We appreciated the beauty of the place, and felt strangely at home in the public gardens, so full of our own New Zealand cabbage trees, but the whole Riviera "had the air of a lovely maiden of mediaeval days, who, in all her lonely beauty, is patiently awaiting the return of her absent knight. As the time for the return of her patrons approaches, the Riviera begins to bedeck herself. Streets are freshly paved, new grass is sown on the lawns, and flower beds grow gay with the promise of blooui. From Nice an electric tram-car takes one along the hillsides to the little towns in the bays that lie between it and Monte Carlo. So it is an easy afternoon's outing to go over to the famous j little principality, or, if you are anxious I to have longer time to spend at the Casino, the train does the journey in less than half a.n hour. Truly, it is a garden, this Monte Carlo. Every imaginable form of vegetation seems to flourish. Palms and flowering shrubs shelter the houses, and in the exquisite gardens that surround the Casino, bright bedding plants blaze in the emerald grass, and at every turning the seeiit rises from the flowers, as varied, as they are beautiful. So protected is the snug little town from cold winds that at times when the trees and shrubs of Nice, and even Mentone, suffer from storms or frost, those of Monte Carlo get off "scot free." There are many indeed who regret the gambling element that keeps large numbers of visitors to i the Riviera away from thisbeautiful little town, for from the point of view of its climatic and natural attractions, it is the gem of the Mediterranean. Monte Carlo is an off : shoot of the red and white town of Monaco, and is built terrace above terrace on the sides of the hills, that slope down to the blue bay of Monaco. Many of the streets that rise from one terrace to another are formed by winding steps, and the hotels and pensions and villas are built of so ornate a character as to resemble each one a small palace. And so the little town clusters, embedded in pakns and green trees, sheltered by mountains and by the. rocky promontory, on which is the palace of the Prince of Monaco, anil washed by the waters of the blue Mediterranean. One evening we dined in an hotel in Monte Carlo, and after dinner wandered up to the Casino. At the door I was refused admittance by a much uniformed official, -n-no politely informed mc that I was not permitted to enter unless I, was wearing a hat. Somewhat abashed, I ran back to the hotel, and procuring a hat, returned to the Casino. Beyond the formality of presenting a card at the office, there was no difficulty in- entering the' salles, dcs jeux. Only two of the great saloons were open, and in them both roulette and trente et quarante were being played. But here the absence of the w r orld of fashion was most conspicuous. In place of the magnificent-ly-dressed women who throng these rooms during the winter months, there were a number of shabby men and women of a very low type, gamblers of the most inveterate order,. who sat around the green tables throwing on and gathering in their little heaps of gold and silver and notes as the ball spun round the wheel and settled in a number. The plaj''T3 showed no excitement, and most of them were scribbling in little note books; no doubt working out some supposed to be infallible system by means of which they hoped some day to win a fortune. One man never raised his eyes from his calculations, but in an undertone gave instructions to a girl who sat beside him, and who, at his 'bidding, distributed the heap of bank notes that lay in front of her. So far a*; one could judge, no oig sums were being either won or lost. On the outskirts of the players a few onlookers like ourselves hung watching the trend of the luck. But of excite.me.nt, brilliancy, intensity, there was nothing. On the whole, the sight of those rows of particularly repulsive faces huddled round the long green tables, the monotonous cry of the croupiers, the throwing on and raking off of money, was disgusting and wholly wearisome. From Nise, a few hours' run, this tin 1 .3 not so near to the coast, brings us to the busy seaport of Marseilles. We were not very pleased with the cobblestone paving of the streets of the largest seaport of France; however, there is a gay air about the Promenade dv Prado and Le Cours Belsimee and the street of flowersellers. The scent of the lilac will always call to my mind ; ' the first day I spent in Marseilles, years ago in the springtime, when the almost overladen flower carts filled the air with the odour of the lovely blossom. We went to see the shipping, where the masts are as numerous as the trees of a forest, and round to see the fishing fleet, packed so so closely that the boats resemble the little fish, which their nets entrap; and several times fer luncheon we had a fry of those little sardines, fresh from the blue Mediterranean. In the afternoon we wandered into the cathedral and to the art gallery, and then back to the Hotel dv Louvre et de la Paix, where it was amusing to see the passengers from the various liners assembled in little groups for afternoon tea. Towards sunset we took the lift up the rocky hill to Xotre Dame de la Garde, the church with the tall tower surmounted by a gilded image of the Virgin, which the sailors petition for a fair weather passage. From there iv'e looked down npon •Marseilles. ; But turning our backs on that work a-day world, we could imagine the sun setting in the snug little bays we had left behind all along the coast from Marseilles to Genoa. And a great wave of regret rose in my heart at the thought that I would see them no more, and something very like envy gripped mc when I remembered the hundreds who I in a month or two would come trooping down from the cold north and live and laugh and love and grow strong iv those I delightful little towns by the Mediterranean shore.

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