2.

It is an enviable sensation to feel for the first time that you are in
Granada. No amount of travelling can weaken the romantic interest which
clings about this storied place, or take away aught from the freshness of
that emotion with which you first behold it, I sit almost at the foot of
the Alhambra, whose walls I can see from my window, quite satisfied for
to-day with being here. It has been raining since I arrived, the thunder
is crashing overhead, and the mountains are covered with clouds, so I am
kept in-doors, with the luxury of knowing that all the wonders of the
place are within my reach. And now let me beguile the dull weather by
giving you a sketch of my journey from Seville hither.

There are three lines of stages from Seville to Madrid, and their
competition has reduced the fare to $12, which, for a ride of 350 miles,
is remarkably cheap. The trip is usually made in three days and a half. A
branch line from Baylen--nearly half-way--strikes southward to Granada,
and as there is no competition on this part of the road, I was charged $15
for a through seat in the _coupe_. On account of the lateness of the
season, and the limited time at my command, this was preferable to taking
horses and riding across the country from Seville to Cordova. Accordingly,
at an early hour on Thursday morning last, furnished with a travelling
ticket inscribed: "Don Valtar de Talor" (myself!), I took leave of my
English friends at the Fonda de Madrid, got into an immense, lumbering
yellow vehicle, drawn by ten mules, and started, trusting to my good luck
and bad Spanish to get safely through. The commencement, however, was
unpropitious, and very often a stumble at starting makes the whole journey
limp. The near mule in the foremost span was a horse, ridden by our
postillion, and nothing could prevent that horse from darting into all
sorts of streets and alleys where we had no desire to go. As all mules
have implicit faith in horses, of course the rest of the animals followed.
We were half an hour in getting out of Seville, and when at last we
reached the open road and dashed off at full gallop, one of the mules in
the traces fell and was dragged in the dust some twenty or thirty yards
before we could stop. My companions in the coupe were a young Spanish
officer and his pretty Andalusian bride, who was making her first journey
from home, and after these mishaps was in a state of constant fear and
anxiety.

The first stage acros