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[[note]] Italy 75 [[/note]]

Serrevalle is a delightful spot at the entrance to the Ampiezzo [[Ampezzo]] valley, but first I should say something about the lovely Treviso where I saw such a beautiful Titian and in the first of all pawnbroakers shops a splendid Giorgione with cherubs painted as only Giorgione could paint them  My wanderings about the interesting city through the picturesque streets where the houses sentiently decorated have now assumed a glorious harmony of tones, up on to the battlements where companies of the [[Carabinieri?]] were drilling all was greatly amusing, and a breakfast in the Trattoria Antica among Travisian farmers gave me great enjoyment. A little less than an hour from then I reached Coneglianno where I immediately took the diligence for Serrevalle, a drive of two hours along a local road approaching the mountains was a most agreeable change, and I was landed at the Albergo alla Giriffa in Serrevalle after an Italian dinner of doubtful quality. I took a walk into the picturesque town, in truth this place pleased me more than any where I have been since I left Mt St Michel it shows traces of old Venetian suburban elegance and even of 10th or 12th century occupation. This morning I scrambled up to the chapel of St Stefano which stands on the mountainside, from this lovely spot I could look far out over the rich plains of Italy with the silver line of the Piave in the distance, beneath me was the quiet village, and back I looked up the misty Val d'Ampezzo filled with the golden sunlight. I descended the steep mountain at my leasure and after a light breakfast and a siesta took the dilligence for Belluno and here I am, tomorrow I expect to take the stage again at four oclock and go to Cadore where I will probably pass tomorrow night.

Innsbruck Sunday June 27th 1875. I arrived here last evening about six oclock it was raining dismally and the cold air made me realize that I was indeed out of Italy I came directly here to the hotel de l'Europe supposing from the name that french would be spoken I was not disappointed, but what a horriably modern place after my dear old Albergos in the Ampezzo valley. What I charming week I have passed, it now scarcely seems like a reality it has gone so quickly I am once more back in the nineteenth century. I left Belluno by the five oclock stage on Thursday morning for Cadore. There were a number of passengers beside myself but I made no acquaintances as the day previous, the morning was quite cold and cloudy and as I had not time to get any coffee before leaving I was obliged to content myself with a glass of Italian Vermut and a piece of bread which a few minutes stay at Capo di Monte enabled me to take. It was the festa of St Giovanne and as we passed through the villages we heard the bells ringing and what crowds of gaily dressed peasants going to church