A Year's Journey through France and Part of Spain, 1777 eBook

Philip Thicknesse
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 164 pages of information about A Year's Journey through France and Part of Spain, 1777.
and though he had no company in his house, put us into much worse apartments than those we had been in before.  I ordered something for supper, and left it to him, as he had given us a very good one before; but he was not only determined to punish us in lodging, but in eating also, and sent only four little mutton cutlets, so small, that they were not sufficient for one, instead of four persons; we pretended, however, not to perceive his insolence, that he might not enjoy our punishment; and the next day, as I was desirous of looking about me a little, we removed to another posada, where, about noon, a Canon of great ecclesiastical preferment arrived, with a coach, six mules, and a large retinue, to dinner:  the Canon had no more the marks of a gentleman than a muleteer; and he had with him two or three persons, of no better appearance.  While his dinner, a kind of olla, was preparing, I went into the kitchen, where the smell of the rancid oil with which it was dressed, would have dined two or three men of moderate or tender stomachs; nor had he any other dish.  There was behind his coach a great quantity of bedding, bed-steads, &c. so you will perceive he travelled comme il faut.  His livery servants were numerous, and had on very short livery coats, with large sleeves, and still shorter waists.  After he had eat a dinner, enough to poison a pack of hounds, he sat off in great pomp for Barcelona, a city I passed the next day with infinite pleasure, without entering its inhospitable gates; which I could not have done, had not Mons. Anglois saved me that mortification by getting my passa porte refreshed.  I confess, Sir, that while I passed under the fortifications of that city, which the high road made necessary, I felt, I knew not why, a terror about me, that my frame is in general a stranger to; and rather risqued two hours’ night travelling, bad and dangerous as the roads were, than sleep within four leagues of it; so that it was ten o’clock before we got to Martereau, a little city by the sea side, where we had lodged on our way to Barcelona.  The next day, we proceeded on the same delightful sea coast we had before passed, and through the same rich villages, on our way to Girone, Figuiere, &c. and avoided that horrid posada where the Frenchman died, by lying at a worse house, but better people:  but having bought a brace of partridges, and some red fish on the road, we fared sumptuously, except in beds, which were straw mattrasses, very hard, and the room full of wet Indian corn; but we were no sooner out of our posada, than the climate and the beautiful country made ample amends for the town and posada grievances.

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A Year's Journey through France and Part of Spain, 1777 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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