La Mere Bauche, A Pyreneean story by Anthony Trollope
EAN13
9791041983773
ISBN
979-10-419-8377-3
Éditeur
CULTUREA
Date de publication
Nombre de pages
28
Dimensions
22 x 17 x 0,2 cm
Poids
68 g
Langue
anglais
Fiches UNIMARC
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La Mere Bauche

A Pyreneean story by Anthony Trollope

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The Pyreneean valley in which the baths of Vernet are situated is not much known
to English, or indeed to any travellers. Tourists in search of good hotels and
picturesque beauty combined, do not generally extend their journeys to the Eastern
Pyrenees. They rarely get beyond Luchon; and in this they are right, as they thus
end their peregrinations at the most lovely spot among these mountains, and are as
a rule so deceived, imposed on, and bewildered by guides, innkeepers, and horse owners, at this otherwise delightful place, as to become undesirous of further
travel. Nor do invalids from distant parts frequent Vernet. People of fashion go to
the Eaux Bonnes and to Luchon, and people who are really ill to Bareges and
Cauterets. It is at these places that one meets crowds of Parisians, and the
daughters and wives of rich merchants from Bordeaux, with an admixture, now by
no means inconsiderable, of Englishmen and Englishwomen. But the Eastern
Pyrenees are still unfrequented. And probably they will remain so; for though there
are among them lovely valleys—and of all such the valley of Vernet is perhaps the
most lovely—they cannot compete with the mountain scenery of other tourists loved regions in Europe. At the Port de Venasquez and the Breche de Roland in the
Western Pyrenees, or rather, to speak more truly, at spots in the close vicinity of
these famous mountain entrances from France into Spain, one can make
comparisons with Switzerland, Northern Italy, the Tyrol, and Ireland, which will
not be injurious to the scenes then under view. But among the eastern mountains
this can rarely be done. The hills do not stand thickly together so as to group
themselves; the passes from one valley to another, though not wanting in altitude,
are not close pressed together with overhanging rocks, and are deficient in
grandeur as well as loveliness. And then, as a natural consequence of all this, the
hotels—are not quite as good as they should be.
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