Pouring rain, so I did not rise. Resolved to go to Genoa, believing the road a decent one, as it is not. Breakfast, & dawdled with Mr. Flood the Engineer. Took the places to Voltri: & after a talk with intelligent Landlord, off at 1. Rain ― ever pouring, nor did it cease until we passed Albissola. Vehicle odious, jolting, dangerous. Celle, & at 2.40, change horses at Varazze. Very beautiful pine woods ― & views of Genoa shore ― but horribly dangerous turns & landslides. At 3.30 Cogoletto, evening sun red. Falling walls. Leave Diligence & walk up mountain ― descent to Arenzano at 4. Alarm of fallen rox. Arrive at the place 4.30: the landslip has covered all the road for a long space, & is still falling. By going onto the Railway Embankment, & walking we escaped, but did not then get to Voltri before 5.35; just as the train started. Yet, if not for the mistake of a stupid impiegato I should have got off after all. “Πλέον Φωνάζης, χεισότερον ἧγαι,” says G.
We went to “Gallo” Locanda, a very Gallows place: but got not a bad dinner of soup boiled fowl & fish & wine. Gallo Inn being direful, I go to bed in clothes: & one must be up at 4.
What a day! precipices & landslips!
 After long deliberation, and using a good amount of imagination, we tentatively suggest Lear might mean “the more you shout, the worse it is.”
[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]