Spalato

“From relics of the archaeological museum it is a relief to turn to the busy streets of Spalato, with their crowds of gaily dressed peasants, and to the sunny fruit market beneath the Venetian tower where the country folk display their wares and the most delightful feast of colour is spread for your eyes. Gold of oranges, red of cherries, green of vegetables galore! And the costumes alike of those who buy and sell are not those surely of the prosaic twentieth century, but of the time when the old tower above was a strong fort. [...]. The crimson turbans of the men, their twisted waist scarves of many hues, their sleeveless jackets of crimson cloth adorned with embroidery or silver buttons, suggest a scene on the stage, and the dress of their womenkind is not a whit less picturesque and gay; varying according to the different villages or districts round Spalato from which they came. The townspeople, alas! At all events, those of the upper classes, have adjured the national costumes for the fashions of Vienna, and as we sat outside the café of the hotel on the evening of our arrival and watched the fashionable world of Spalato promenading in the square to listen to the band the scene was very un-Dalmatian and typical of Austria proper, though so far away. But to our joy we found next day the officers and smart ladies were but few in number and inconspicuous among the populace, and that the middle-class townsman still clings fondly to his red Dalmatian cap, even though he combines it with an ordinary tweed suit, so the promenade along the Riva between the many cafés and the sea when all Spalato takes the air is a study in scarlet (pp. 88-89).

You cannot visit Spalato without wishing to ascend the wooded heights of Monte Marjan, which rises to the west of the town. Though little over five hundred feet in height, this hill is so uniquely situated at the end of the peninsula on which Spalato is built that it overlooks to the west the city with Diocletian's palace, to the north-west the lonely shore of the Gulf of Salona, with the ruins of the buried city, to the north and north-east the romantic Riviera of the Seven Castles, while to the east the isle of Bua, lying opposite to Trau, and southward are the blue waters of the Adriatic, with their distant isles, and here and there the sails of fishing-boats or the faint line of smoke of a distant steamer. […]. The summit of Marjan can easily be reached in an hour from the centre of Spalato, by good walkers; but the way is too beautiful to be hurried over. [...]. The sulphur springs on the way are worth noticing, and you must turn aside to see the Campo Santo of Spalato, where white oleanders blossom among the pines and cypresses and scent the air; and from the little temple at the crossing of the ways which separate the churchyard of the rich, with its costly monuments, from the churchyard of the poor, with its rows of simple wooden crosses, there is a glorious view (pp. 90-91)".