National Geographic : 1935 Jan
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE Photograph by Maynard Owen Williams THE FISH MAN USING HIS HEAD WAS NO CURIOSITY, BUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER WAS! Because rock shoulders slope from the Alps and break off abruptly into the sea, road and railway builders must consider the ant and bore many tunnels. Arched streets of hill towns, such as this leading to the castle of Roquebrune, are splotched on sunny days with bright patches and dark shadows that delight the painter and challenge the lens. one stops, longing like the peri outside the gate of paradise. Now that I call myself one of the little people, I find Rapallo has become too much of a resort. Nature gave it a harbor curving in from the peninsula of Portofino, but a shallow harbor, just nice for fishermen, not yachts. A promenade follows its pebbly beach, where children played without dan ger and where groups of maidens walked on Sundays and threw important glances over the shoulder at groups of young men who did the same. All these things go on still, but under the eye of the people of a casino and big new hotels (see page 86). "Would you like a barca, signora?" The offer was made on the shore by a shabby man anticipating a refusal. But he was not refused; the word barca was not to be resisted. Poets always sail in barks and singers warble in them. "A pretty barca, eh?" pleaded Sandro, showing white teeth as he saw a probable patron.