Abbot McClure to Katherine Norris, 14 September 1923
[From Abbot McClure in Bolzano, Italy, to Katherine Norris. He describes his trip through the Dolomites, how beautiful the ride through the mountains was, and how inexpensive things are.
This letter is on stationery with the following printing in the upper left: "Hotel Stadt Bozen Inh.: Franz Opitz, Bozen."]
September 14th [1923]
Dear Miss Norris,
As long as you can not enjoy this trip I am taking through the Dolomites, I thought you would perhaps be interested in a letter telling you something about it. I have sent postals from time to time, but that is rather an unsatisfactory method of writing although the views are always interesting I feel.
The ride yesterday from Cortina to this once Austrian town was far and above anything I had hoped for and I was literally spellbound at what I saw. Every moment of the was, from 8:30 in the morning until we reached Bozen at 5:30, was one delight after another and never will I forget it. At one time way down in a valley with tremendous peaks towering 8 to 10 thousand feet above, then climbing up, up, until the valley below was lost in a purple haze.
We crossed the famous Podoi Pass1 the finest in Europe, and I can well believe it is. Barren and bleak, with huge boulders on all sides and no trees to warm the landscape, and towering like church spires high into the blue sky the peaks of the Dolomites, many covered with snow, reared their multi-colored heads. Right in the highest point of the pass we stopped for lunch, and with the wind howling about, and the temperature at 28°, my sweater felt comfortable although we lunched indoors. From the Pass we went down what seemed miles into the most wonderful of valleys, where the sun was warm and the peasants working in the fields in their white linen blouses and funny broad brimmed hats made one forget the cold of the pass above. Then up we went again over another mountain range and it began to rain, but as we climbed up it turned into snow and for twenty minutes it seemed like real winter weather.
The roads are very wonderful, quite as smooth as a city asphalt, but such turns and curves you can't imagine. You double on your course so that it resembles a letter S many times exagerated. My hair stood on end as we whirled around these curves with nothing between us and the valley below thousands of feet but a few stone posts placed at intervals along the entire route. These I am sure would have crumbled like matches had our huge touring motor buss struck one. It is fortunate one never thinks of the danger when rushing along, but I must confess my heart was in my throat several times. Our driver was a wonder, and I felt sure nothing would happen unless of course the stearing gear broke and then all would have been over with. I felt sad when we finally descended into the last valley and came along on a level road into this interesting one time Austrian mountain town.
I have a strange feeling that it is neither Italian or Austrian although one hears nothing but German with now and then Italian. One sees the Italian flag, and the officers and soldiers in their gray green uniforms, aside from this one might be over the frontier in real Austria. Everything is as neat and clean as can be, which is more than one can say of many of the Italian towns. The town is all areaded [?] with interesting little shops, and little squares open out on every hand where the umbrelled markets are held.
Things are much less expensive than in Rome, Florence, or Venice, and I have just purchased a beautiful gray soft sweater for $1.75, not bad is it? My ride of ten hours including luggage and lunch cost me just $6.00 and think what I had for that amount. I am paying here in this hotel for a most comfortable room and breakfast about $1.00 per day, so you see one lives rather cheaply here.
I met some friends while lunching at a funny little restaurant, and we are to meet for tea at the "Green Dragon." Tomorrow I leave for Merano, only an hours ride by train, and hope I shall find it agreeable.
I have written so many postals and letters on this trip that I fear I may have repeated myself. If I have you will forgive me I know. If this letter you think would interest cousin Georgiana2 do send it along to her. I sent her a card from Venice and one from Cortina d'Ampezzo. I hope they will reach her in due time. I must be off to meet my friends for tea.
With much love to you
Ever affectionately,
Abbot
P. S.
When I reach Merano I will put your address on a card. I can not dive down into my big bag for it now.
- The Pordoi Pass, at an altitude of 7346 feet in the Dolomites in the Italian Alps. See Pordoi Pass.
- Georgiana Abbot Bowditch (1848-1927), Abbot's cousin