bazzia captured me at first glance.

Everywhere was beauty and peace. The Adriatic spread itself pure and
clean as a field of spring flowers, and as full of delicate changing
colour. Away on a remote horizon--remote as all trouble and worry
seemed, in this fair spot--hovered islands, opaline and shimmering, like
a mirage. Nearer rose a stretch of green hills, travelling by the
seashore until they fell back for Fiume, a white town veiled with a
light mist of smoke.

But for Abbazzia itself, it seemed the most unconventional pleasure
place I ever knew. Instead of a smart "parade" all along the rocky
indentations which jutted into or receded from the sea, ran a winding
rustic path, tiny blue waves crinkling on one side; on the other,
fragrant groves of laurel, olives, magnolias, and shady chestnut-trees.

We walked there, after lunching at quite a grand hotel, which, the
Prince told Aunt Kathryn, was full of "crowned heads" in winter and
earlier spring. Nowhere else have I seen the beauty of sea and shore so
exquisitely mingled as on this path overhanging the Adriatic, nor have I
smelled more heavenly smells, even at Bellagio. There was the salt of
the sea, the rank flavour of seaweed, mingled with the sharp fragrance
of ferns, of young grass, of budding trees, and all sweet, woodsy
things.

Along the whole length of the gay, quaint town, ran the beautiful path,
winding often like a twisted ribbon, but never leaving the sea. Behind
it, above and beyond, was the unspoiled forest only broken enough for
the cutting of shaded streets, and the building of charming houses,
their fronts half windows and the other half balconies.

The dark rocks starred with flowers to the water's edge, looked as if
there had been a snow-storm of gulls, while the air was full of their
wistful cries, and the singing of merry land birds that tried to cheer
them.

Each house by the sea (the one where Prince Dalmar-Kalm first saw the
light, among others) had its own bathing place, and pretty young girls
laughed and splashed in the clear water. Up above, in the town, were
public gardens, many hotels, theatres, and fascinating shops displaying
embroideries and jewelry from Bosnia, which made me feel the nearness of
the East as I hadn't felt it before, even in Venice.

We could not tear ourselves away in the afternoon, but spent hours in a
canopied boat, dined in the hotel garden, and bathed in the creamy sea
by late moonlight, the Chauffeulier g