This was a very peculiar village, as the broad flat roofs of the houses
formed terraces; upon these you could at once walk from the steep
hill-slope, into which the houses were inserted by scarping out a level
space for a foundation. The effect was remarkable, as the house-roofs,
in lines, seemed like flights of steps upon the mountain side. We halted
at the first decent-looking dwelling and rested beneath the shade of an
apricot-tree within a small courtyard. The people at once assembled, and
the owner of the house brought us black wine and raki of his own make;
the latter he was now engaged in distilling, and some pigs were
revelling in the refuse that had been thrown in a heap below the window
of the store. This man was proud of his wine, as it was tolerably free
from the taste of tar; the jars, having been more than fifty years in
constant use, had lost the objectionable flavour. We were thirsty and
hot, therefore the wine was not disagreeable, and we lunched beneath the
apricot.
After an hour's rest the real up-hill work commenced. We crossed a broad
channel of running water beneath groves of green trees, and entered a
path on the opposite side of the village; this skirted a deep and
precipitous gorge, through which the river flowed from the high and dark
ravine that cleft the mountain from the ssummit to the bottom. A
water-mill was at work below us on the right; and always ascending along
the side of the ravine, with the rushing sound of the stream below, we
arrived after half a mile at the base of the apparently impossible
route.
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