Even in Cyprus there are municipal laws, and now that the English are there they are enforced; therefore my huge van could not remain like a wad in a gun-barrel, and entirely block the street. A London policeman would have desired it to "move on" but--this was the real grievance that I had against Larnaca--the van COULD NOT "MOVE ON," owing to its extreme height, which interfered with the wooden water-spouts from the low roofs of the flat-topped houses. This was a case of "real distress." My van represented civilisation: the water-spouts represented barbarism. If a London omnibus crowded with outside passengers had attempted to drive through Larnaca, both driver and passengers would have been swept into I have not the slightest notion where; and my van was two feet higher than an omnibus! I determined that I would avoid all inferior thoroughfares, and that the van should pass down Wolseley Street, drawn by a number of men who would be superior in intelligence to the Cypriote mules and be careful in turning the corners. I did not see the start, as a person with an "excess of zeal" had started it with a crowd of madmen without orders, and I was only a late spectator some hours after its arrival opposite Craddock's Hotel. It rather resembled a ship that had been in bad weather and in collision with a few steamers. How many water-spouts it had carried away I never heard. The fore-axle was broken, as it appeared that in rounding a corner it had been dragged by main force upon the curbstone about sixteen inches high, from which it had bumped violently down. It had then been backed against a water-spout, which had gone completely through what sailors would term the "stern." One shutter was split in two pieces, and one window smashed. Altogether, what with bruises, scratches, broken axle, and other damages, my van looked ten years older since the morning. Fortunately among the Europeans who had flocked to Cyprus since the British occupation was a French blacksmith, whose forge was only a few yards from Craddock's Hotel, where my wrecked vessel blocked the way. I had a new fore axle-tree made, and strengthened the hinder axle. I also fitted a bullock-pole, instead of shafts, for a pair of oxen; the springs I bound up with iron wire shrunk on while red-hot. I took out the stove, as it was not necessary, and its absence increased the space; and I inserted a ventilator in the roof in place of the chimney. When repaired, the van looked as good as new, and was much stronger, and well adapted for rough travel. The only thing it now wanted was a ROAD!