We left La Carlotta about three o'clock in the afternoon, and halted, in the evening, at a miserable gipsy's hut, the roof of which was formed of simple branches cut off the trees, and thrown, like a kind of coarse thatch, over cross pieces. After drinking a few glasses of water, I quietly stretched myself out before the door, upon the bosom of our common mother, and began watching the azure immensity of heaven, where the large stars seemed to float like swarms of golden bees, while their twinkling formed a kind of luminous haze, similar to that which a dragon fly's invisible wings produce round his body by the immense rapidity with which they move; but it was not long before I fell into a profound sleep, just as if I had been reposing on the softest bed in the world. I had, however, for a pillow nothing but a stone wrapt up in the cape of my cloak, while some very respectable flints were stamping an impression of themselves in the hollow of my back. Never did a more beautiful and milder night envelope the globe in her mantle of blue velvet. At about midnight, the _galera_ set out once more, and, when morning appeared, we were not more than half a league from Cordova. It might, perhaps, be supposed from my description of all these halts and marches, that Cordova is separated by a great distance from Malaga, and that we had gone over an enormous deal of ground in the course of our journey, which did not occupy less than four days and a half. The distance we went, however, is only twenty Spanish leagues, that is to say, about thirty French ones, but the vehicle was heavily loaded, the road abominable, and no fresh mules waiting for us at regular distances. Besides, the heat was so intolerable that it would have suffocated both man and beast, had we ventured out during the time that the sun was at its height. This journey, however, slow and wearisome as it was, has left a pleasing impression on my mind: excessive rapidity in the means of transport, deprives the road of all charm; you are hurried along like a whirlwind, without having time to see anything. If a man comes to his journey's end directly, he may as well stop at home. For my part I think that the pleasure of travelling consists in travelling, and not in arriving at your destination.