After quitting Sarrezana we left the road to Genoa on the left hand, but for those going to Milan it matters little whether they go by Genoa or not. I had a strong desire to visit Genoa and see the Empress, but I was troubled over the journey I should have to undertake. Two roads lead thither, one of forty miles direct from Sarrezana, which takes three days, and runs through the roughest and most mountainous country. The way itself is stony and precipitous, the inns bad, and the road little used. The other goes to Lerici, three miles from Sarrezana, and there travellers embark and reach Genoa in twelve hours. I could not face the sea voyage on account of my weak stomach, and I shrank from the trouble of finding lodging in Genoa in its present crowded state, even more than from the discomforts of the journey by land. Moreover, I heard that the road from Genoa to Milan was haunted by thieves, and as I was exceedingly anxious to get home, I resolved to leave Genoa aside, and follow the right-hand road through the mountains, keeping always to the valley of the Magra, with the stream to our left. We passed through the lands of Genoa, of Florence, and of the Malespini severally. The road was good except in one or two rocky broken places; and, after riding thirty miles, we arrived at Pontremoli in time for bed. This is a straggling town, full of old buildings, which are in no wise beautiful. There are also some ruins, and a legend goes that the town was known to the ancients as Appua. It is now under Milan, its last rulers having been the Fieschi. The first thing served to us at table was cheese, such as is made round Milan and Piacenza, and they offered likewise the most excellent olives, stoned and served with oil and vinegar as a salad in Genoese fashion. A basin full of water placed on a stool was handed round for the washing of hands, and each person had to use the same water. The town stands at the base of the mountains, which rise on all sides.