Excerpt from Mediterranean Moods, Footnotes of Travel in the Islands of Mallorca, Menorca, Ibiza, and Sardinia
But when he has sat long at the feast of foreign life; when he has dulled the edge of novelty, admired all that is to be admired, worn out his guide-books when, in a word, he feels the pre monitions of ennui; then, if he is honest with himself, the traveller will confess that travel is a wilderness punctuated by oases. These oases are the precious moments which he seeks. Unluckily there is no certain route which conducts to them. There is no map on which they are charted. They are not starred in Baedeker. The tourist agencies know nothing of them. The directions of friends are invariably misleading. Their oasis will be your mirage. No personal intuition will ever guide you to them. If you succeed in finding your way back to one which has once refreshed you, you will only experience the disillusion and bitter amazement with which you renew the acquaint ance of a first love.
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