Since we arrived, the ancient town of Korchula has been gleaming in the sunlight across the water. Today we took the boat from the little pier by the campsite and sailed into Korchula harbour under the shadow of a large cruise ship.
Rebecca West, the English author, also visited the town in the 1930s and described it like this,
'We walked along the quay that runs round the point of the little peninsula, following the walls, and then went up a steep little street, close-packed with palaces, which thrust out balconies to one another or were joined by bridges, into the town. We found it like a honeycomb; it was dripping with architectural richness, and it was laid out in an order such as mathematicians admire. But its spirit was riotous, the honey had fermented and turned to mead.'
We walked up to the cathedral and went to pier at the rows of fine yachts in the marina and ate a pizza and watched the other people. I could hear American and Australian voices here.
Indeed we got talking to a nice Australian couple who had travelled out with us in the boat. (Hello Tibor and Irena). It was now 12 and we were all down at the quay but there was no boat to be seen anywhere. Eventually it turned up though with the Captain having added an impromtu stop somewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment