And we haven't even had a tire accident.

We're having a delightful journey--only this country yields neither vegetables nor fruits, and I have to live on oatmeal.

They spell it p-o-r-r-i-d-g-e, and they call it puruge.

But they beat all creation as carnivorous folk.

We stayed last night at a beautiful mountain hotel at Braemar (the same town whereat Stevenson wrote "Treasure Island") and they had nine kinds of meat for dinner and eggs in three ways, and no vegetables but potatoes.