30 MIDWINTER IN THESSALY 



less responsibility, they lived in their native provinces. 

 But I found them proud of their fine territory and con- 

 fident in the future of their town, which they considered 

 certain, when the resources of the country should be 

 further opened up, to become an important trading centre. 

 Already the railway unites it to Volo on the east, where 

 there is a splendid natural harbour (the British squadron 

 of five war-ships was anchored there at the time of our 

 visit), and to Trikala and Kalabak on the west ; and there 

 is a movement on foot to carry the line further to the 

 west, across the Turkish frontier through Albania by 

 Janina to the coast opposite Corfu — a route at present 

 wholly closed to travellers on account of Turkish 

 brigandage. 



I^rom two points of view this ancient town presents a 

 striking appearance. One of these is at the far end of the 

 bridge which here spans the Peneus, or, as the Turks call 

 it, the SaMmvrias. The na,tives credit the Romans with 

 having built this bridge ; but, if that be so, its nine pointed 

 arches indicate a late period of the Byzantine empire for 

 its construction. Viewed from the river-bank, a little 

 below the bridge, the town looks its best, rising from a 

 girdle of lofty poplars with tier upon tier of warm-toned 

 walls, crowned by the cupola and minarets of the principal 

 mosque, and all mirrored in the glassy flood. 



To reach the other point of view we must recross the 

 bridge, pausing to watch the town water-carriers labori- 

 ously scooping water out of the river, and pouring it into 

 cowhides borne pannier-wise upon half-starved ponies. 

 The apertures of the hides are kept open by bunches of 

 brush, and half the contents of each jarful is spilt over 



