In the Land of Mosques & Minarets
eneath the shadow of the palm trees of the Oasis; where even in mid-wint
forts; others luxurious appointments; but you don't get either of these in North Africa, save in the pala
nd excruciatingly slow; the steamships between Marseilles or Genoa and the African littoral are either uncomfortably crowded, or wobbly, slow-going tubs; and there are
vely. Every one thinks that; but it is best always to take ways and means into co
rtist and the author. As such it may be accepted as a faithful transcript of sights and scenes-and many correlative things that matter-which will prove to be the portion
often given a more faithful picture of strange lands than that limned by Anglo-Saxon writers who have mostly praised them in an ignorant, sentimental fashion, or reviled them because they had left their own damp sheets and sto
k in his "Pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina," and set forth the Arab character as no one else has done; but he said some things, and
nd Victor Barrucaud. These and some others mentioned further on are the latter-day authorities on the Arab life of Africa, though the makers of English books on Algeria and Tunisia seem never to have heard of them, much less profited b
bsorption of first-hand experiences and observations, coupled with authenticated facts of history and romance. All the elements have been found sur place and have
he subject justice. Think of trying to catch the fire and spirit of Fromentin, of Loti, of the Maupassants or Masqueray, or the local colour of the canvases of Dinet, Armand Point, Potter, Besnard, Constant, Cabannes, Guillaumet
d of tourists), where we had made our Mediterranean headquarters for some years, but the sirocco was still blowing contrariwise from the south on the Africa
f-progressive little town of the Barbary coast, or some desert oasis where one might, if he would, still dream the dreams of the Arabian nights and day
s favoured this last journey, and thus the mak
f busy affairs. These men of the Midi, though they seemingly take things easy are a very industrious race. There is no such virile movement in Paris, even on the boulevards, as one may witness on Marseilles' famous Cannebière at the seducing h
ntinople; to Port Said and the East, India, Australia, China and Japan; and westward, through Gibraltar's Strait to the Mexican Gulf and the Argentine. The like of Marseill
ine Cathedral of Sainte Marie Majeur, leaving the twinkling lights of the Vieux Port and the Pharo soon far behind. Past Chateau d'If, the Point des
ood dinner indeed, with café-cognac-or chartreuse, real chartreuse, not the base imitation, mark you, tout compris, to top off with. The boat was a
ports all open, and a gentle, sighing Med
ats of the comparatively youthful age of twelve and seventeen, but they are so crowded that one is infinitely less comfortable, though they make the voyage at a gait of fifteen or sixteen knots. Then again the food is by no means so good or well serv
and there are surprisingly few of what the French ca
tive races and the French colons, if he wishes to know something of the country. Other
west winter playground. The tide of pleasure-seeking travel has turned towards Algeria and Tunisia, but the plea is herein made to those who follow after for the bette
cil Rhodes launched his Cape to Cairo scheme, and Africa has been given over to diamond-mine exploiters, rubber collectors and semi-invalids, who, hearing wonderful ta
untains of Kabylie, the gentlest man-fearing creature God ever made, or who has "camped-out" in a tent furn
ho live in Algiers or Tunis and have made of those cities weak imitations of European capitals and their suburbs as characterless a
and its market and its military posts; and Bou-Saada and Tozeur with their oases are as yet comparatively unkno
e Msaaba to whom a chapter is devoted in this book later on; or Gharda?a, the Holy City of the Sud-Constantinois, the case
n to Gabès and beyond, almost to the boundary of Tripoli in Barbary. An automobile would be much quicker, and in some par
desert at Figuig; from Biskra to Touggourt; or from Gabès to Tozeur. Otherwise he will have so kept "in touch" with things that he can, for the asking, have oatmeal for
ind, his ship makes its way gingerly out thr
e of th
sent ashore,-he was a useless personage anyway, but he touches a hundred and fifty francs for standing on the bridge and doing nothing,-the ship turns
a rich frame for the scintillating white walls scattered here and there over the landscape. La Ma
ch terminate the greater island, the "Taureau," the "Vache" and the "Veau." They are only interesting as landmarks,
sica is left to starboard, still farther away, in fact not visible, but the Frenchman apparently does not regret this either, even though it has become a French Département. "Peuh: la Corse," he says,
ining his eyes for a sight of land. We didn't see it, but we took his word for it. A quarter of an hour late
, and we all went below and passed the most uncomfortable five hours imaginable, anchored off the Estaque, in full view of Marseilles,
talled in that remarkably equipped "Touring Hotel" of Marseilles' Cours Belzunce. Art nouveau furniture, no heavy rugs or draperies, metallic bedsteads, and hot and cold running water in every room.