8, 1765.

DEAR SIR,--Turin is about thirty leagues from Nice, the greater part of
the way lying over frightful mountains covered with snow. The
difficulty of the road, however, reaches no farther than Coni, from
whence there is an open highway through a fine plain country, as far as
the capital of Piedmont, and the traveller is accommodated with chaise
and horses to proceed either post, or by cambiatura, as in other parts
of Italy. There are only two ways of performing the journey over the
mountains from Nice; one is to ride a mule-back, and the other to be
carried in a chair. The former I chose, and set out with my servant on
the seventh day of February at two in the afternoon. I was hardly clear
of Nice, when it began to rain so hard that in less than an hour the
mud was half a foot deep in many parts of the road. This was the only
inconvenience we suffered, the way being in other respects practicable
enough; for there is but one small hill to cross on this side of the
village of L'Escarene, where we arrived about six in the evening. The
ground in this neighbourhood is tolerably cultivated, and the mountains
are planted to the tops with olive trees. The accommodation here is so
very bad, that I had no inclination to be a-bed longer than was
absolutely necessary for refreshment; and therefore I proceeded on my
journey at two in the morning, conducted by a guide, whom I hired for
this purpose at the rate of three livres a day. Having ascended one
side, and descended the other, of the mountain called Braus, which took
up four hours, though the road is not bad, we at six reached the
village of Sospello, which is agreeably situated in a small valley,
surrounded by prodigious high and barren mountains. This little plain
is pretty fertile, and being watered by a pleasant stream, forms a
delightful contrast with the hideous rocks that surround it. Having
reposed myself and my mules two hours at this place, we continued our
journey over the second mountain, called Brovis, which is rather more
considerable than the first, and in four hours arrived at La Giandola,
a tolerable inn situated betwixt the high road and a small river, about
a gunshot from the town of Brieglie, which we leave on the right. As we
jogged along in the grey of the morning, I was a little startled at two
figures which I saw before me, and began to put my pistols in order. It
must be observed that these mountains are infested with contrabandiers,
a set of sm