MY friend Mr. Sharp and myself left Naples on the 11th of October. We had made a special agreement with a vetturino to convey us to Bari, and had entered into a great many particulars which our experience on former occasions had pointed out to us as expedient, but unfortunately we either forgot to mention, or mentioned it so casually, that we could neither of us be sure of having done so, that the usual expenses were to be paid. I had been very much hurried the day before, as is frequently the case with travellers just setting out on a new expedition, and did not get to bed till past one. At half past two a man was sent to call me. It was part of our agreement that we should not set off till five o’clock, and this interruption made me very angry; I therefore scolded the man and sent him away, but I could not sleep any more. This is one of the usual plagues of Italian travelling, and a very great one it is, since the time allowed for repose on such occasions, is seldom so much that we can well afford to lose any of it. The vetturino had promised that the carriage should come for us to the inn, but this part of his bargain he now refused to perform. This formed the subject of the second quarrel, and as soon as we arrived at the place from whence we were to start, we disagreed about the expenses. I have certainly had more exercise in scolding in Italian, than I ever had in English; scolding and bargaining are here qualifications of every day necessity. We found two gentlemen going the same road for seventeen ducats each, while we were each to pay twenty-four; this seemed to indicate that we were grossly cheated, or that the expenses had really been considered in our bargain, and the vetturino was so used to lying reasons, that he never thought of giving the really good one which he had to urge, which was, that these gentlemen were only going to Foggia, about two thirds of the distance. After a time all things were settled, only as a last trick we found that he had directed the driver to demand Spanish dollars, which are worth a few grains more than the Neapolitan piastres. The road lies along a comparatively level country, among groves of poplars supporting vines, to Cardinale, seventeen miles distant. Here the hills begin, and Sharp and myself went forward on foot up the first ascent, but the road winds between woody slopes, and we had no view over the country we had past. The descent exhibits a rich valley, bounded by a great variety of hills and mountains. Some parts are cultivated with corn or vines, others are covered with wood, while occasionally, a bold and craggy cliff gives spirit and variety to the scene. The road continues along this valley to Avellino, and here ended our first day’s journey, twenty-six Neapolitan, or about thirty-one English miles from Naples. Yet the road is neither bad nor hilly. Five carriages full of company left Naples together, which probably was the occasion of some delay, and