It is now 9. A.M. ― & I rise ― a fearful night of pouring rain, high wind, & roaring sea. It is of course wholly absurd to think of moving today. What a journey! ―
10. P.M. All the day ― from 9. When I rose, to 4, was one vast cataract of rain ― with wind, & raging sea quâ accompaniments. The 2 forestieri are Americans, (we breakfasted together,) & very pleasant. Later I found that she knows Rome well, Terry, Crawford-Perkins’s, Storey, &c. ―& also that he was U.S. Consul at Buenos Ayres, & knows Farquhar, Drummonds & others. They kindly asked me to sit by their fire, & lent me Dickens’s last book, ― I them Tennyson’s ― & read thereout. So day wore on, till at 4 rain ceased, & Mr. Hudson & I went out “for a walk” thro’ that one street of the town & up the hill beyond, whence the inevitable Riviera points & bay, is seen. Ἔπειτα, at 5.30 we dined ― very sociably, & later, we had a bottle of Marsala: afterwards sitting by the pleasant fire till nearly 10.
When I came to bed.
The cookery here is peculiarly vile: amazing.
The Diligence has just arrived in from Genoa, & that also from Nice: both of course very late.
How am I to get on tomorrow ????????????
[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]