I had left Tiflis about 3 in the afternoon of the 5th of September, and reached this place in the evening of the 9th, five days to travel 274 wersti (195 miles).  I call that a respectable Russian post!

The boat did not start for Redutkale, a distance of eighty wersti, until the morning of the 11th.  It was bad weather; and the Ribon, otherwise a fine river, cannot be navigated during a strong wind, on account of the projecting trunks of trees and logs.  The scenery still continued beautiful and picturesque.  The stream flows between woods, maize, and millet fields, and the view extends over hills and mountains to the distant and gigantic Caucasus.  Their singular forms, peaks, sunken plateaus, split domes, etc. appear sometimes on the right, sometimes on the left, in front, and behind, according to the ever-changing windings of the river.  We frequently halted and landed, every one running to the trees.  Grapes and figs were abundant, but the former were as sour as vinegar, and the latter hard and small.  I found a single one ripe, and that I threw away when I had tasted it.  The fig-trees were of a size such as I had never seen, either in India or Sicily.  I believe the whole sap is here converted into wood and leaves.  In the same way, the great height of the vines may be the cause of the grapes being so small and bad.  There must certainly be a great field for improved cultivation here.

12th September.  Our boat did not go far.  There was a smart breeze, and as we were already near the Black Sea, we were obliged to remain at anchor.

13th September.  The wind had dropped, and we could, without danger, trust ourselves on the sea, upon which we had to sail for some hours, from the principal arm of the Ribon to that on which Redutkale was situated.  There was indeed a canal leading from the one to the other, but it can only be passed at very high water, as it is much filled with drift sand.

In Redutkale, a speculating Cossack host also received me, who had three little rooms for guests.

According to the Russian calendar, this was the last day of August.  On the 1st of September, the steamer was to come, and sail again after two hours.  I therefore hastened to the commandant of the town to have my passport signed, and to request admittance to the ship.  Government steamers ply twice every month, on the 1st and 15th, from Redutkale to Odessa, by way of Kertsch.  Sailing vessels rarely offer an opportunity of passage.  These steamers always keep close into the coast; they touch at eighteen stations (fortresses and military posts), carry military transports of all kinds, and convey all passengers free.  Travellers must, however, be content with a deck place:  the cabins are few, and belong to the crew and higher officers, who frequently travel from one station to another.  No places can be had by paying for them.

The commandant prepared my passport and ticket directly.  I cannot avoid remarking in this place that the prolixity of writing by the Russian government officials far exceeds that of the Austrians, which I had formerly considered impossible.  Instead of a simple signature, I received a large written sheet, of which several copies were taken, the whole ceremony occupying more than half an hour.