Romantic Corsica, wanderings in Napoleon's isle; . ntersa land of crag, ravine, and river, and if the road twistsworse than ever, the scenery is still more and descent in fairly equal proportions lead backto the sea-coast again, the route bordered by fantasticrocks, till a wide sweep inland and back again landedme, as the sun was setting, at the idyllic little village ofPorto. Pretty Porto suffers from being in the neighbourhoodof, and in fact on the route to, that favourite resort ofAjacciens and visitors to Ajaccio, Evisa. But, havingseen both, I think I prefer Porto. The vi
Romantic Corsica, wanderings in Napoleon's isle; . ntersa land of crag, ravine, and river, and if the road twistsworse than ever, the scenery is still more and descent in fairly equal proportions lead backto the sea-coast again, the route bordered by fantasticrocks, till a wide sweep inland and back again landedme, as the sun was setting, at the idyllic little village ofPorto. Pretty Porto suffers from being in the neighbourhoodof, and in fact on the route to, that favourite resort ofAjacciens and visitors to Ajaccio, Evisa. But, havingseen both, I think I prefer Porto. The village is thrownloosely on the right bank of the River Porto, and isdelightfully shaded by eucalyptus-trees, whilst acrossthe stream rises a massively grand mountain wall tower-ing up into the clouds. The village past, the river flowsthrough a pleasant little delta thick with vegetation, andat the mouth stands a rocky mount capped by a watch-tower. Porto has the reputation of being one of thestormiest places on the west coast, and on the day after. BY THE GULFS OF THE WEST 271 my arrival it was a particularly fine sight to see thewaves dashing furiously on the rocky shore of the gulf,while vast banks of mist and cloud played about the loftycliffs and rolled down on the little village. Though the gulf of Porto is by no means the largestin Corsica, it is undoubtedly the most beautiful. Noother gulf excels it in rugged splendour of coastline orshows such a picturesque array of falaises and peaks(of reddish granite), clothed largely with a soothinggreen verdure. Creeks and bays and promontories lie in seeminglyendless succession—a picture which should be seen inall the golden radiance of the setting sun. The littleplace, too, is not without its trade. From the greatforest of Aitone a large quantity of timber is broughtdown to Porto for export, and charcoal, wine, oil,lemons, and chestnuts are despatched to various is quarried, and a fine briar grows round about,larg
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