Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - I. Spain. En Route
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wrong with the Malagans: do they not afford perfect
proof of this in their proposal that their harbor be
made a free port - after the fashion of their neighbor
Gibraltar?
While our steamer is stuffing its iron belly with figs,
raisins, sweet Malaga wine and many other
commodities, we go ashore to look around and call for our mail.
We have arrived at the height of the export season;
the port is bustling with activity. All the fruits of
Spain seem to vie with each other here, to bid us
welcome, and we are picking our way between tuns of wine
and olives; cork receptacles filled with grapes; chests
of dates, raisins, lemons, oranges and almonds; mats
of figs; sacks of hazel-nuts and walnuts - and many
other products. Sometimes a receptacle has burst open
owing to careless handling, and the navvies offer us
some of the contents as we walk by.
Further up the quay we see crowds of women and
children on their knees, surrounding large mounds of
oranges. They gossip and sing as they take the fruits,
which a few men are sorting, roll them into silken
paper and pack them into long cases. In their
many-colored rags, the women seem a wreath of poppies and
corn-flowers edging a pile of gold. It surprises us
involuntarily to find these lovely fruits, which at home
in Denmark are so dear and so much desired, treated
here as if they were hardly more than potatoes. The
freight cars run down to the edge of the pier, the
compartment doors are opened, and the oranges are
dumped into baskets or on the bare ground, wherever
they may chance to fall. Lean, sinewy men,
barefooted, a red cloth bound about their heads like a
turban, run to and fro, throwing the contents of the
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