We Want A Book About The Unknown Italian Painters In Out-Of-
The-Way Italian Valleys During The Times Of The Decadence Of Art.
There Is Ample Material For One Who Has The Time At His Command.
We lunched at the house of the incumbent, a monk, who was very kind
to us.
We found him drying French marigold blossoms to colour his
risotto with during the winter. He gave us some excellent wine,
and took us over the tower near the church. Nothing can be more
lovely than the monk's garden. If aesthetic people are ever going
to get tired of sun-flowers and lilies, let me suggest to them that
they will find a weary utterness in chicory and seed onions which
they should not overlook; I never felt chicory and seed onions till
I was in the monk's garden at S. Maria in Calanca. All about the
terrace or artificial level ground on which the church is placed,
there are admirable bits for painting, and if there was only
accommodation so that one could get up as high as the alpi, I can
fancy few better places to stay at than S. Maria in Calanca.
CHAPTER XIX - The Mendrisiotto
We stayed a day or two at Bellinzona, and then went on over the
Monte Cenere to Lugano. My first acquaintance with the Monte
Cenere was made some seven-and-thirty years ago when I was a small
boy. I remember with what delight I found wild narcissuses growing
in a meadow upon the top of it, and was allowed to gather as many
as I liked. It was not till some thirty years afterwards that I
again passed over the Monte Cenere in summer time, but I well
remembered the narcissus place, and wondered whether there would
still be any of them growing there. Sure enough when we got to the
top, there they were as thick as cowslips in an English meadow. At
Lugano, having half-an-hour to spare, we paid our respects to the
glorious frescoes by Bernardino Luini, and to the facade of the
duomo, and then went on to Mendrisio.
The neighbourhood of Mendrisio, or, as it is called, the
"Mendrisiotto," is a rich one. Mendrisio itself should be the
headquarters; there is an excellent hotel there, the Hotel
Mendrisio, kept by Signora Pasta, which cannot be surpassed for
comfort and all that makes a hotel pleasant to stay at. I never
saw a house where the arrangements were more perfect; even in the
hottest weather I found the rooms always cool and airy, and the
nights never oppressive. Part of the secret of this may be that
Mendrisio lies higher than it appears to do, and the hotel, which
is situated on the slope of the hill, takes all the breeze there
is. The lake of Lugano is about 950 feet above the sea. The river
falls rapidly between Mendrisio and the lake, while the hotel is
high above the river.
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