But, apart from all other considerations, there is a charm in travelling in Spain, which renders it peculiarly attractive to most persons possessing the locomotive mania, namely, the charm of _novelty_. Every thing in that country is different from what is met with in any other; every thing is proverbially _uncertain_;[10] and the traveller is thus kept in a constant state of excitement, from his fancy being ever busy guessing what is to come next. There can be little doubt but that the uncertainty attendant on all mundane affairs greatly enhances our enjoyment of life. Take the duration of our existence itself as an instance: did we know the precise moment at which it was to terminate, we should be miserable during the whole period of its continuance. So, in like manner, does the uncertainty attendant on such trifling matters as getting a bed or a supper give a peculiar zest to _touring_ in Spain. You have there no "_Itineraire des Voyageurs_," to mark the spot to a _millimetre_, where a relay of post-horses is to be found; no "Hand-book for Travellers," with a list of the best inns on the road, to spoil your appetite by anticipation; no dear pains-taking Mrs. Starke,[11] to beat up quarters and sights for you, and determine beforehand the sum you have (or rather ought) to pay for bed and "_pasto_." No--you travel with a bad map of the country in your pocket over a stony track that is _not_ marked upon it--and which you are at times disposed to believe is rather the bed of a torrent than a road. Before you is the prospect of passing the night on this villanous king's highway; or, should you be fortunate enough to reach the shelter of a roof, the doubt, whether a comfortable bed, a truss of straw, or a hard floor, will receive your wearied limbs; and whether you will have to go supperless to bed, or find a savoury _olla_, perfuming the whole establishment. It must, I think, be admitted, that there is a certain charm in this independent mode of travelling--this precarious manner of existence. It carries the wanderer back to the days of chivalry and romance--of the _Cid Campeador_ and _Bernardo del Carpio_; dropping him at least half a dozen centuries behind the Liverpool and Manchester Railroad.