My itinerary has changed altogether. After having travelled entirely
through the Oberland, I went to Zurich. There I was seized with the
desire to see Salzburg, and I crossed over Lake Constance to Lindau, and
thence to Munich, where I lingered several days visiting the museum.
Salzburg seems to me to deserve its reputation, by which I mean its
German reputation. Happily, to most tourists it is an unknown country.
Near by there is a mountain called the Gagsberg, standing in almost the
same position as the Righi, from which one sees spread before him the
same panorama of lakes and mountains. The lakes are poor affairs, to be
sure, but the mountains are infinitely more splendid than those
surrounding the Righi. Add to this the fact that there are no English
tourists to bore you with their faces, and that you are in the midst of
the most absolute solitude, knowing to a certainty--which is an
important consideration--that at the end of a three hours’ walk you will
enjoy a good dinner at Salzburg.
I went yesterday into the Zitterthal, which is a charming valley, one
end of which is inclosed by a great glacier. The mountains to the right
and the left rise sharply before you, which is the same inconvenience
that one suffers in Switzerland: there is no foreground, no means of
determining the real height of surrounding objects.
In the Zitterthal, it is said, are the most beautiful women of the
Tyrol. I saw, indeed, many very pretty ones there, but they were too
well fed. Their legs, which they show to the garter (it is not as high
as you might imagine), are of startling bigness. While I was dining at
Fügen, our host entered the room, with his daughter, formed like a cask
of Burgundy, his son, a guitar, and two stable-boys. All these people
yodeled in a marvellous fashion. The cask, who was but twenty-two years
old, has a contralto voice worth fifty thousand francs. For all that,
the concert was free. Singing, with these people, is a pleasure, which
they do not include in the bill.
To-morrow I start for Verona by a round-about way in order to see
Stelvio. I shall have to travel in a coach seven or eight thousand feet
above sea level. If I do not fall into some hole, I shall be in Venice
by the 5th or 6th of August, perhaps before then. I shall attend to your
commission, which seems to me intricate. I shall choose for you the
prettiest hair-net possible to find. I thank you for your information
concerning Aldus. I should have preferred, however, that you should give
me some about your travels. Good-bye.