Sunday, 11 December 1864

Gray ― but tho’ sunless, by no means cold. Breakfast at 8 ― a mistake, in these jouneyings, & we do so no more.

Out with G. passing the town a long way, but finding nothing to draw: ― the town, on a hill, slopes back, so far, that you must go a mile or two out to see it, & then it is only a ridge of common buildings. Drew: ― but seeing that there is little ahead to draw, ἀποφάσισα[1] to go by the Diligence to Oneglia. Returned & poked up to the Convent high above the town ― to no purpose; & then descended by very horrid slippery streets, where, but for G. I had fallen several times.

To the seaside alas ― but all nil. Ὀμολογῶν[2] therefore that S. Remo is a nabsolute failure, came back to the Inn, & packed: & it is now 1. P.M. ― There don’t seem much available in the “Corniche.” ― Had some lunch; good Lord! how horrible to herd with the people I see here!! ― An arrabbiatura[3] occurred in settling accounts, along of the youth wh. drove me here having taken backsheesh both from the landlady, & from me. ― Finally I walked to the Messagerie office at 3, & waited till 3.30 ― when the Diligence came, & I (& G.,) sate therein. At 4, no end of fuss about places, I not caring what I had for 2½ hours ― but the rest making a row. One “ἄσχημα παχυία”[4] being furious: she continued to annoy the Directeur for an hour. O Dio! she howl’d out by fits, ― che caldo! che soffrire! O! come soffro! O come sudo! Sudo immensamente! Non posso più![5] ― &c.

The road seemed to me very uninteresting, & dreadfully horrid from long tracts of fallen earth in the last great rains ― 40 days of it they say. Obscure torrents, & unpleasant villages: roaring sea: ―― but no peacock hue bays nor any other pleasure. At P. Maurizio (arriving at 6.15 ― we started at 4,) passengers & luggage abounded & delayed: ― the town seems highly picturesque. At 6.45, we got to Oneglia, ― (& sleety rain was falling,) & after a time I & G. got to the Hotel Vittoria where there was a room, ― & after a while dinner not at all bad. The better sort of Italian Inn.

It is now 9 ― & bed time.


[1] I decided.

[2] Admitting (NB).

[3] Fit of anger.

[4] Grossly fat woman (NB).

[5] Oh God! How hot! What misery! Oh! How I suffer! O how I am sweating! I am sweating profusely! I can’t stand it any longer!


[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]

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Filed under 1864, Diary Entry

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