The sun had now reached the meridian, and beat down upon us with terrible force, for our carriage was an open one; we were half-choked with the dust, a thick white layer of which covered us from head to foot; on either side lay bare, brown fields, baked hard as stone, and deeply fissured; no water anywhere; the only thing which broke the monotony of the scene was the occasional passage of a train of arbas, laden with huge, bloated-looking ox-skins, full of wine. The arba is the national vehicle of Georgia, and is said to have been used as a chariot by the ancient kings; it is constructed entirely of wood; there is not so much as a nail or pin of metal in it; the wheels are generally made of one piece of timber, and for this reason the arba is allowed to travel on the highways without paying the tolls which are imposed on carts with tires; a pair of oxen draw the cart, and the creaking of it may be heard afar off. Parched with thirst, and almost stifled with dust, we were glad to reach Vaziani, where we spread our cloaks under an oak-tree by the side of a spring, and proceeded to make a good lunch, after which we slept for a while. In the afternoon we left Vaziani, and soon passed through the prosperous German colony of Marienfeld, with its neat, homely cottages, shaded by fine poplar-trees. The vicinity of the river Iora makes this a very fertile spot, cool and inviting even in the middle of summer. A little before reaching Marienfeld we saw, on the left, the road to Telav, and the Kakhetian hills now seem to slope down very quickly to meet our road, but we know that we shall have to travel many a weary verst before we reach them. In the evening, at about six o'clock, we arrived at Azamburi, a Russian village not far from the station of Sartachali. It had been agreed that we should spend the night here, so we alighted at the postoyalii dvor, or inn.