India 2001 books

A kitten with paralysed hind legs crawled up to us and accepted a little
rubbing. When dusk came we moved on, marvelling at the inexhaustible
picturesqueness of Salonika.
As we clambered down the breakneck paths, the priests were illuminating
the minarets with hundreds of twinkling lights.
The next day was the Feast. Mahommedans were everywhere. By the women's
trousers, which twinkled beneath the shrouding veils, one could see that
they were gorgeously dressed. Befezzed men were lounging and smoking in
all the cafe's.
In the evening once more we wandered up through the old Turkish quarter.
We heard a curious noise like a hymn played by bagpipes, rhythmically
accompanied in syncopation by a very flabby drum. Round the corner came
four jolly niggers blowing pipes, and the drummer behind them. Very slim
young men with bright sashes and light trousers were twisting,
posturing, and dancing joyfully. One of them threw to Jo the most
graceful kiss she had ever seen.
We left Salonika in the morning, having been wakened by new sounds.


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