DEAR SIR, - Turin is about thirty leagues from Nice, the greater
part of the way lying over frightful mountains covered with snow.
The difficulty of the road, however, reaches no farther than
Coni, from whence there is an open highway through a fine plain
country, as far as the capital of Piedmont, and the traveller is
accommodated with chaise and horses to proceed either post, or by
cambiatura, as in other parts of Italy. There are only two ways
of performing the journey over the mountains from Nice; one is to
ride a mule-back, and the other to be carried in a chair. The
former I chose, and set out with my servant on the seventh day of
February at two in the afternoon. I was hardly clear of Nice,
when it began to rain so hard that in less than an hour the mud
was half a foot deep in many parts of the road. This was the only
inconvenience we suffered, the way being in other respects
practicable enough; for there is but one small hill to cross on
this side of the village of L'Escarene, where we arrived about
six in the evening. The ground in this neighbourhood is tolerably
cultivated, and the mountains are planted to the tops with olive
trees. The accommodation here is so very bad, that I had no
inclination to be a-bed longer than was absolutely necessary for
refreshment; and therefore I proceeded on my journey at two in
the morning, conducted by a guide, whom I hired for this purpose
at the rate of three livres a day.
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