Risano

"[From the diary]. «Risano is a rather ordinary small hill town, but we enjoyed our stop there. The first thing which caught my eye was a little church a few hundred feet back from the shore. A line had been attached to the cross on the tiny pointed steeple, and each end staked to the ground. From it fluttered innumerable little flags, giving the church exactly the look of a gaily decorated ship. As we walked along the strip of shore, we came to several booths in course of construction which were being made ready for the festa».

«It looked quite homelike to see a little place where 'You t'row a ring on de knives, and get er segar! Come on gents, try yer luck! T'ree chances fer er nickel — only five cents!' Penknives, booth, rings, even the 'segars', looked as if they should have been in a booth on the sands of Coney Island, instead of on the shore of the Bocche. A sign in Croatian proved to us that we were far, very far, from home. I wanted to copy the marvelous hieroglyphics, but John wouldn't let me — for he said it would take me too long. But, when he wasn't looking, I put down the word for 'beer'. I'm not particularly fond of the beverage, but I'm happy to say that, poor as the beer is here, it is not as bad as the word for it looks:

«Further along the shore we came to a paved square, shaded by fine old trees. A lot of picturesque men were lounging around, smoking and discussing the Balkan war, but at sight of us they lost all interest in everything else. All appeared to be afraid of the camera, and I couldn't get a picture. The moment I pointed my kodak in their direction they turned away. Among the whole crowd of idlers, not a single woman was to be seen. The weaker sex were, no doubt, toiling in the blazing sun, while their lords were enjoying themselves in the shady square».

«Not in Italy or Greece did we ever encounter more goats than in our walk in Risano — nice, sociable goats, the lacteal portion of their anatomy tied up in little black bags. I never saw anything more funny than this herd of goats parading along shore in solemn procession, each with its udder incased in a covering apparently made of black cambric. I suppose the idea was to make the goat's milk 'germ-proof', but the bags were so dirty, the method couldn't have been very efficacious».

«As in other towns, Risano runs up the hill. We saw a commodious-looking hotel nearing completion on the heights, to which a newly made carriage-road zigzagged up, but went no further. All Risano is a collection of unlovely, squalid houses perched on the hillside, one above another, and reached by dark and crooked alleys, with a succession of steep and narrow steps. It is hard to understand why there is any necessity for a hotel. Risano, like Castelnuovo, has nothing but a superb situation to commend it».

«The greatest curiosity in all this region is the waterfall of Sopoti, near Risano. Dalmatia is almost waterless, for the limestone rocks drink the water up like a sponge. Sometimes the water, after disappearing at one place, gushes out again miles away, bursting from some cleft, or cavern, like a huge fountain. The 'Sopoti' is an intermittent waterfall. When it ceases to flow, which is in the dry season, the cave out of which the torrent comes 'rushing' may be entered for quite a distance. From the Kotor we could see the mouth of the cave, in which is supposed to reside a great dragon. He has an enormous diamond, with which he constantly amuses himself by rolling it about, making a noise like thunder. His jewel will be valued by the ton, I should imagine, instead of by carats, when it is taken from the monster. The story goes that two bold men, brothers, and natives of Risano, once took a boat and went to the cavern to explore it, in order to secure possession, if possible, of this fabulous gem. One brother remained outside, holding on to the end of the rope fastened to the boat in which his more intrepid companion was to venture on his perilous voyage of discovery. After some time had elapsed, and the brother who had entered the cavern had failed to give the signal agreed upon, his more prudent brother, becoming alarmed, pulled at the rope and, to his horror, discovered it hung slack in his hand. There was no longer a boat attached to it. To this day, the lost skiff has never been found, and the fate of the venturesome explorer remains shrouded in mystery»" (pp. 322-325).