The nexte morninge, beinge Sunday, we arived at Vola, in Romalea, the maine of Greece, not farr from Thessalonica.
The 10th we touke horsis, and began our jurnaye by land over the Confines of Thessale.
The 12th daye, at nyghte, we came to a towne caled Zetoune.[145] Beinge come to this towne, our horsis and mayls (mules) returned to Vola; and heare we rested tow dayes. I may say rested, for I am sure we had no reste in the nyghte, our lodginge was so bade, be side the greate feare we wear in of haveinge our throtes cutt. The beste comoditie we had was that we had good store of good wyne and good cheape (sheep).
Heare we hired freshe horsis and mayles (mules). We weare but 8 men, yeat we had everie daye 12 horsis.... Four of them weare to carrie our clothes, my beed, and wyne and vitell for 3 dayes. For some nyghtes we weare like to ly without dors, and at som touns we could not gitt any vitels. Whyle we weare in this toune we weare warned to keep close, for thar weare som of the Grand Sinyor’s souldiers that weare cominge from the wars.
The 14th we departed from Zetoun, and haveing rid 6 or 7 myles, we began to climbe the hills of Parnassus, wheare we had all maner of ill wether, as thundringe, lightninge, rayne, and snow, and our waye was so bad as I thinke never did Christians travell the like. The mountains weare huge and steepe, stony, and the wayes verrie narrow, so that if a horse should have stumbled or slided, bothe horse and man had bene in greate dainger of theire lives.
Also we weare doged, or followed, by 4 stout villans that weare Turkes. They would have perswaded our drugaman, which was our gid (guide), to have given his consente unto the Cuttinge of our throtes in the nyghte, and he did verrie wysely Conseale it from us, and delayed the time with them, not daringe to denye ther sute; and so theye followed us 4 dayes over Parnassus; but our drugaman everie nyghte give us charge to keepe good watche, espetialy this laste nyghte, for theye did purpose to goo no farther after us, and our Turke, whome I cale our drugaman, had premeded (permitted) them that that nyghte it should be don. Now, after he had given us warninge to kepe good watche, he wente unto them and made them drinke so muche wyne, or put somthinge in there wyne, that theye weare not only drunke but also sicke, that they weare not able to attempte anythinge againste us to hurt us, for the which we had verrie greate cause to give hartie thanks unto Almyghtie God, who was our chefeste savgaurd.
This nighte we Laye in a lytle village under a wonderfull heie rocke. Thoughe that countrie be contenually could, yeate the wemen thare never weare anythinge on their feete; they ar verrie well favored, but their feete be blacke and broade.
This man that was sente with us to be our drugaman, or intarpreater, was an Inglishe man, borne in Chorlaye in Lancashier; his name Finche. He was also in religon a perfit Turke, but he was our trustie frende.
The nexte daye, beinge the 17th, we came to Lippanta,[146] wheare our Turke revealed all this unto us, and these men we had sene, but never more than one at once, and he never stayed longe in our companye, for he came but to speake with our Turke aboute their vilanus plott.
This day we had bothe wynter and somer; in the morning we did tread upon froste and snowe; before nowne we came to the bottem of the mountaine, wheare did run a rever, so bige and stifly, beinge fulle of stons, so that we durste not adventur to rid over it; but our Turke, ridinge up and doune by the rever sid, espied tow stoute fellowes, the which wear naked and more than halfe savidge or wyld; he caled them unto him, and they unwilingly came. Than when he had talked with them, he comanded one of them to take his horse by the bridle and leade him throughe the rever, and so he did, havinge a greate stafe in his hand; than the other savige man touke Mr. Paul Pinder’s horse by the heade and led him over, and than Sir Humfray Conisby his horse, and so one after a other. This rever was thicke and moddie, and was no other than mearly snow water, that dothe desend from those hils wheare it dothe contenualy snow.