Friday, 30 December 1864

Rose at 6 ― ([glorious] clear morning,) but, having said nothing about early rising, no one came up. So, by the time we got away it was 7.40. The Hole d’Angleterre is vastly clean & nice: Cooking good, & W.C. best in all the Riviera. Joined the 4 horse Vettura, which G. had arranged with, ―& was off at 8. Uninteresting road from S. Remo ― & next village. Railway workmen &c. Just before reaching Bordighéra, at 9.15 ― leave Vettura, & poke up queer lanes & into olive woods & palm gardens to find a “view.” Very beautiful semi oriental places, & Corfu-like groves of olives ― which bewitched me ― together with the bright sky ― & I drew till 10.30. Came down the hill, & thereabout is one of the finest of all the Riviera “panoramas” ― so drew again till 11, & did not get to the Hotel d’Angleterre till 11.30. “Neat” house. Capital breakfast ― (6.20)[.] Looked at rooms: I fancy this would have been the nicest winter place of all.

Ventimiglia. [December 1864?] Sepia ink over graphite on cream paper. 35.2 x 50.7 cm.

Ventimiglia. [December 1864?] Sepia ink over graphite on cream paper. 35.2 x 50.7 cm.

Off at 12.20 ― highly content. Hear, & pass Pifferari: & at 1 reach Ventimiglia, & leave carriage. Drew in river bed ― mighty picturesque scene! On ― & draw again ― & then, lengths of road ― olive groves ― & long ascents, till 3 brought us near the last ascent. ― Delay, owing to blasted rox. Grand view of Mentone ― 3.40. ―

Exit from Italy ―― which I am vexed at.

At 4.15 arrive at Dogana, (no passports asked for) & Roba is visited: suspicions of disgusting old cove, & smilings of superior. (Having walked, & sent on Boxes ― [alarms][1] the official dogana=mind horribly. Stopped at Bazaar, & bought 9. Photographs ― 45fr.: & wanted a “[Ciottera]” but had not enough to make up 3fr. by 20 cents ― so the beastly frightful man wouldn’t let me have it. ― At the Hotel Londres by 5: & hastily dressing, dined at 5.30 table d’hôte. Very agreeable Lady elderly, & one younger, a Lady Sandford ― & lo ― her niece, Miss Murray, is here. But in a villa up a mile off & I couldn’t go. ―

Tomorrow I am to walk to Nice, & send Luggage on.

Beautiful new moon tonight.


[1] Partially blotted.


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

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