Ragusa

""Look, see how beautiful Ragusa is, how picturesque! Although I am only a poor Capuchin monk, I feel proud of my native city - che mi son Raguséo!" he [a traveling companion] exclaimed, breaking out into his native Venetian dialect. "Though most of my life has been spent far away in foreign missions, I still cling with fondness to my native shores, and feel thankful, most thankful", he repeated, bending his head, "that it has pleased His Holiness and our General to order me back here again at last". […]. He was a very remarkable man, of an ancient noble Ragusan family, evidently pious, yet wonderfully large-minded" (pp. 123-125).

"An excellent road, originally made by the French and subsequently improved by the Austrians, communicates between Gravosa and Ragusa, and numerous small carriages drawn by one or two horses are constantly in readiness to convey for a trifle those who do not wish to walk to Ragusa. The two monks and I were soon on shore, and there I reluctantly parted with them; they went on foot towards their convent, while I took a small one-horse carriage and started off to the city. […]. We soon topped the hill, when we again came in view of the sea on our right hand, while on our left were numbers of villas peeping out through masses of oleanders and gigantic aloes, whose flower stems, like colossal candelabra, fifteen to twenty feet in height, gave a peculiarly exotic character to the scene. Many of these villas were in ruins, and others more or less damaged, still bearing evidence of the French occupation at the beginning of this century, and of their expulsion by the Russian and Montenegrin troops.

Ragusa was now fairly again in sight, and a noble city it is, and how picturesque! So far as its greatness is concerned, Ragusa is now but the shadow of what it was in bygone days. Its political importance has faded away - its commercial supremacy is a thing of the past; but its local beauty, its domes, its campaniles, its lofty cut-stone palaces, its churches and public buildings, its exquisitely clean streets, its balmy air, its azure sea and its pleasant society - all these are things real and of the present" (pp. 136-137).

"The carrettella came spinning, at the rate of a hunt, down the hill, at the bottom of which is the entrance to Ragusa, and turning sharp round at a speed that threatened to upset us bag and baggage into the middle of the road, pulled up suddenly on the right, where a very primitive hotel offers the only prospect of refreshment to the chance traveller in those parts; though, for such as intend remaining some little time, good accomodation can be obtained within the city. The hotel is most picturesquely situated on the very edge of the sea, opposite to the fortifications "di mare", and has in front a considerable plantation of beautiful Paolonias, then in full blossom; on the opposite side is the café, where of a Summer's evening congregate the rank and fashion of Ragusa to enjoy their ices and lemonade, and listen to the excellent band of the Austrian regiment quartered there, and whatever gossip, scandalous or otherwise, that may be buzzing about. And very enjoyable it must be! Fine climate, pleasant society, lovely scenery, easy access to the rest of Europa, either East or West, and cheap living - what more could be desired? I would not ask for more" (pp. 139-140). 

"We steamed quite close inland, and had an excellent view of the ancient fortifications of Ragusa and its old harbour, only frequented at present by the felucas and trabaccoli which carry on the coasting trade of the country. We also passed close to the island of Lachroma. The Russian Consul, Mr. Yonin, told me it was for sale and would probably go cheap. […].

The sea teems with fish of the most delicious kinds, some of which are totally unknown among us; the dentale coronato, for instance, the true sardine, and the rosy mullet, the woodcock of the sea, which here grows to an immense size - while from the mainland one can always obtain at wonderfully low prices abundance of small mountain mutton, poultry, and game. I never was in any place that took my fancy like Ragusa and Lacroma - so lovely, so picturesque, so secluded, and yet so accessible! […].

Now the bell rings, and Giovanni bustles up and down the deck, intimating, "che 'l pranzo ze pronto", so down we all plunged into the saloon, where a good dinner, as usual, welcomed us. As the coast is uninteresting, besides which I don't want to go on deck at present, I may as well tell you of what our Italian dinner consisted. We first had an excellent Julienne soup, with abundance of grated Parmesan for such as appreciated it; next was served the "fritto" (assuredly nowhere else can they fry as in Italy), according to old Italian custom, which always enumerates the following dishes, to succeed each other in an orthodox dinner: - minestra, fritto, lesso, umido, arrosto, dolce, frutta, and, when in season, slices of melon, or fresh figs, served up immediately after the soup, to be eaten with thin slices of raw ham or Bologna sausage. […]. Then came a dish of gnocchi alla Milanese, a superb dish, but difficult to explain; imagine the ingredients of a colossal vol-au-vent à la financière, replete with livers, cocks' combs, unborn eggs, &c., &c., surrounded by a bastion of a peculiar preparation, made of maize-flour, and the whole bathed in tomato sauce and sprinkled right over with grated Parmesan, "proprio da far riavere i morti", as the chef exclaimed to me after dinner, […]. Having slowly worked our way through this sumptuous repast, we went on deck, where coffee was served with its usual accompaniment of Maraschino, both sweetened and unsweetened, together with the inevitable smoke, which contrary to reason, as one would think, is even more comforting in hot countries like the Levant, than it is in cold damp regions like Holland" (pp. 143-147).