M. Schwab puts us up in his huge house with great hospitality, gives us a good double-bedded room, and gives his own room to the children, telling us to make ourselves at home: we do so.
We find at M. Schwab’s, M. Vassiliardes, a Greek, formerly one of Ralli’s people whom I had known in Teheran, and a young American traveller, Mr. Doherty, who says he is a naturalist, and “hopes to find curious bugs” in Persia. He will! He tells me bug is American for beetle.
We breakfast. The rest of the day is occupied in paying off servants, giving over Captain W⸺’s purchases, handing over the mare, giving present to muleteer, repacking for the ship, getting money, etc.
April 30th.—We start after breakfast. A⸺ and I, with N⸺ and the children, in a rough cart on the mattresses and pillows; the luggage in another, the servants on its top. After one farsakh (the last one) we reach (passing through forest and swamp) “Peri-bazaar,” in the midst of swamps. Here is the wharf. In a few minutes we get on a boat manned by six rowers and haulers, a bow-man and a steersman; we take three servants with us, and the woman Bēbē. As soon as we push off from the bank, a rope is attached to the top of the mast and we are towed for an hour, by the haulers, through the swamp.
They then get on board and row; they row very badly with oars like long-handled spades, and when the steersman calls out “Mohammed,” they reply “Allah saklassān,” in a yelling chorus, and spurt. We passed through a narrow natural canal, and then came to the “Mūrd ab,” or “Dead Water,” a large estuary; we row for three-quarters of an hour and then the sail is set. We left Peri-bazaar at three, and reach Enzelli at seven.
The canal and estuary were teeming with fish and water-birds, and we saw cranes, herons, cormorants, and unknown water-fowls in thousands, flying up from the reeds, or rising as we neared them. We also saw a huge vulture who was eating a fish (or was it a big fish-eagle?), but no boat or human being.
At each side of the boat are fixed sticks tied in a bundle; these serve as fenders and rowlocks, really the latter being a small ring of rope.
We land just at the door of the prime minister’s harem, a tumble-down place. We find the governor of Ghilān in the berūni, or men’s apartments; he has laid down carpets in our rooms, and gives us tea, lights, dinner, and breakfast, i. e. he does so for his friend M. Vassiliardes, and we reap the benefit. Our beds are full of fleas. Weather hot and damp.
May 1st.—Lovely weather; have all ready by eight A.M. No steamer. Breakfast from Akbar Khan, Governor of Ghilān. Walk in the gardens, orange-trees with lots of oranges (of last year) on them, and at same time in full bloom quantities of roses, the iris too—very large and fine flowers. Everything very damp; rather too hot in sun, but nice breeze.
Four P.M.—No steamer. Go over the six-storied tower of the Shah, built when he went to Europe, a gew-gaw place going to ruin from damp; protected by mats. We inspect his bedroom, salon, etc. Walk in town; like a Russian suburb of, say, Astrachan.