It is not surprising that under these circumstances Byron made up his mind to travel:  he did not much care whither, provided he had new experiences.  “The grand tour” which educated young men of leisure and fortune took in that day had no charm for him, since he wished to avoid rather than to seek society in those cities which the English frequented.  He did not care to see the literary lions of France or Germany or Italy, for though a nobleman, he was too young and unimportant to be much noticed, and he was too shy and too proud to make advances which might be rebuffed, wounding his amour propre.

He set out on his pilgrimage the latter part of June, 1809, in a ship bound for Lisbon, with a small suite of servants.  Going to a land where Nature was most enchanting, he was sufficiently enthusiastic over the hills and vales and villages of Portugal.  As for comfort, he expected little, and found less; but to this he was indifferent so long as he could swim in the Tagus, and ride on a mule, and procure eggs and wine.  He was delighted with Cadiz, to him a Cythera, with its beautiful but uneducated women, where the wives of peasants were on a par with the wives of dukes in cultivation, and where the minds of both had but one idea,—­that of intrigue.  He hastily travelled through Spain on horseback, in August, reaching Gibraltar, from which he embarked for Malta and the East.

It was Greece and Turkey that Byron most wished to see and know; and, favored by introductions, he was cordially received by governors and pashas.  At Athens, and other classical spots, he lingered enchanted, yet suppressing his enthusiasm in the contempt he had for the affected raptures of ordinary travellers.  It was not the country alone, with its classical associations, which interested him, but also its maidens, with their dark hair and eyes, whom he idealized almost into goddesses.  Everything he saw was picturesque, unique, and fascinating.  The days and weeks flew rapidly away in dreamy enchantment.

After nearly three months at Athens, Byron embarked for Smyrna, and explored the ruins of the old Ionian cities, thence proceeding to Constantinople, with a view of visiting Persia and the farther East.  In a letter to Mr. Henry Drury, he says:—­

“I have left my home, and seen part of Africa and Asia, and a tolerable portion of Europe.  I have been with generals and admirals, princes and pashas, governors and ungovernables.  Albania, indeed, I have seen more than any Englishman, except Mr. Leake,—­a country rarely visited, from the savage character of the natives, but abounding more in natural beauties than the classical regions of Greece.”

A glimpse of Byron’s inner life at this time is caught in the following extract from a letter to another friend: 

“I have now been nearly a year abroad, and hope you will find me an altered personage,—­I do not mean in body, but in manners; for I begin to find out that nothing but virtue will do in this d—­d world.  I am tolerably sick of vice, which I have tried in its agreeable varieties, and mean on my return to cut all my dissolute acquaintance, leave off wine and carnal company, and betake myself to politics and decorum.”