Summary

Laura G. Case Collins By-gone Tourist Days: Letters of Travel

Have you read of the Grand Victor Emanuel Gallery, that “finest arcade in the world,” in shape like a cross, with an octagon center surmounted by a dome, and paved with beautiful mosaic, where the finest shops are, and which is the fashionable promenade, lit by 2,000 gas-lights, and—goodness! if I go on, you will think I am preparing to rival Badeker and get up a guide-book. Well, I just want you to know my apartments were on it, and I was quartered equal to a queen! Everything was gold and glitter, and grandeur and gorgeousness.
Source: Gutenberg

Laura G. Case Collins By-gone Tourist Days: Letters of Travel

Fort Morro Castle, on its not high bluff, the circular sweep of the shore line, the city as it were rising out of the water, with its buildings so varied in size, style and color; the harbor filled with shipping and innumerable little craft shooting hither and thither, and the dazzling sunlight firing it all into a glory no words could catch!
We were quickly passed into a rude kind of gondola, and skimmed over the liquid interval between the steamer and quai.
What a medley of fellow-beings awaited us on landing! What a jargon of sounds! Everything so new and strange to us.
Source: Gutenberg

Laura G. Case Collins By-gone Tourist Days: Letters of Travel

We made an early start in a wagonette for Chatsworth. It was an ideal day—the Spring in full burst, with that delicate film of blue mist that always makes me think of a veil, to enhance its charms—the whole way a succession of pictures—vales, swelling uplands, far hills, the Derwent in its curious curves. We were speechless and exclamatory by turns.
Chatsworth is a palace, in the midst of its thousands of acres cultivated and adorned in every possible way; its exquisite lawn laid out in innumerable gardens in Italian, Alpine, German, French, and ever so many other styles
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature