Sinopsis

I was to walk through the country from the Italian border, but it rained so
heavily on the first day that I went to Mentone and took the mountain
tramway to Sospel, where in any case I had intended to spend the night.
Two years ago, before this tram-line was quite finished, I motored up to
Sospel to play golf. It was a pleasant experience, though not without its
thrills, for the road zigzags and corkscrews up mountain sides and across
deep gorges in a way to make one thankful for strong brakes and a reliable
driver, especially on the return journey. The hillsides are cultivated
everywhere. The precipitous slopes have been terraced with infinite labour,
and orange and lemon groves...