George called me at 2.30 ― διὰ σφάλμα: ― but at 6, rose, & all was ready for starting at 6.50.
But the sun was about to rise in red ― & clouds pervaded all. Ὥμως ― anything is better than this odious Babylon. So, I & the Suliot walked on, & crossing the wooden bridge ― got to Villa Franca before 9 ― & to the beautiful pines. The 2 great Russian Steamers left the Harbour just then, & far out, played “Partant pour la Syrie,” & so “fled out.” Drawing finished, ― cloudier weather, ― went on to the east side of the Promontory ― & drew the coast thence, but difficilmente ― along of high wind in gusts.
At 11.30 ― went up to the Telegraph ― (but the view was not much finer) ― so came down again, & lunched quietly on Baccalà & sandwiches & Marsala ― εὐχαρίστως. ― At 1 ― the weather grew worse ― & all that remained was to work slowly homeward: gray & dull as was the Harbour of Villefranche now, I do not forget its former brightness & beauty. By 4 ― meeting but few Μεθυσμένοι Ροῦσσι ― comparatively ― got to the top of the Old Road Col ― & so downwards, & crossing the wooden bridge once more, made for the Railway, & by the back way came down to the Rue de France, & 61 Promenade des Anglais by 5. P.M.
At 6.30. G. got dinner of Maccaroni & Stewed beef. ― Very nice letter from Jane Hunt.
A dreadful coldish day ― yet nothing very abominable.
Ever, Sir C. Napier’s life is a delight.
 By mistake.
 With difficulty.
 Russian drunks.
[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]