Explore "One Evening" by Guy De Maupassant on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The steamer Kleber had stopped and I looked with pleasure at the beautiful Gulf of Bougie that spread out ahead of us. The Kabyle forests covered the high mountains; in the distance the yellow sand edged the blue sea with powdered gold, while the sun fell in torrents of fire over the white houses of the small town.
The warm African breeze wafted the delightful odour of the desert to my nostrils, the odour of that great mysterious continent into which men from the North rarely penetrate. For three months I had been wandering on the borders of that great unknown world, on the outskirts of that strange land of the ostrich, camel, gazelle, hippopotamus, gorilla, elephant and Negro. I had seen the Arab galloping in the wind, like a waving standard. I had slept under the brown tents, in the shifting homes of these white birds of the desert. I was drunk with light, with magic, and with wide horizons.