The Vega 



steep brow out of the valley of Cacin. As we approached 

 this mound in the bottom of a broad space among the 

 mountains, it grew larger and larger ; and when we had 

 baited at La Mala^ and came to ascend it, it turned out 

 quite a mountain in itself. We were in a high state of 

 anxiety to catch the first glimpse of Granada, and busy 

 building all sorts of impossible Alhambras in the air. 

 Ronda, we recollected, had belied our fond anticipations, 

 but Granada was an acknowledged wonder of the world, 

 and must at any rate be very striking. 



Meanwhile the edge of the hill was turned, and Granada 

 lay before us, about four miles off. Do you expect a burst 

 of enthusiasm ? Alas ! I fear there is nothing earthly can 

 bear the fatal ordeal of a previous reputation — not even the 

 great Niagara, which a disappointed American once said 

 was a " perfect failure." Granada from our first view was 

 a plain-looking largish town, on a slight slope at the foot of 

 an ordinary mountain. We could hardly make out the 

 Alhambra from the hill-side. The famous Vega, over a 

 corner of which we were looking, was of a dingy green. 

 The day was cloudy, and the fine amphitheatre of moun- 

 tains looked cold and dreary ; besides, we were used to 

 mountains. However, as we rode along, some glimpses of 

 sunshine kindled purple gleams among the distant peaks, 

 and sprinkled emerald lights about the Vega, and here and 

 there brought out bright towers and spires, marking the 

 scattered hamlets of the plain. 



Our arrival took place about the hour of sunset, when 

 the good people of Granada, as well as the bad and indif- 

 ferent I suppose, were sauntering about the pa$eo in a 

 body. We were very considerably stared at, being, I should 

 think, about as remarkable objects as Buckstone and Wright 

 got up as elaborate Adelphi countrymen might be, riding 



224 



