It is, of course, unpleasant to live in Siberia; but better to live in
Siberia and feel oneself a man of moral worth, than to live in Petersburg
with the reputation of a drunkard and a scoundrel. No reference to present
company.
* * * * *
Siberia is a cold and long country. I drive on and on and see no end to it.
I see little that is new or of interest, but I feel and experience a great
deal. I have contended with flooded rivers, with cold, with impassable mud,
hunger and sleepiness: such sensations as you could not get for a million
in Moscow! You ought to come to Siberia. Ask the authorities to exile you.
The best of all Siberian towns is Irkutsk. Tomskis not worth a brass
farthing, and the district towns are no better than the Kryepkaya in which
you were so heedlessly born. What is most provoking, there is nothing to
eat in the district towns, and oh dear, how conscious one is of that on the
journey! You get to a town and feel ready to eat a mountain; you arrive
and--alack!--no sausage, no cheese, no meat, no herring even, but the same
insipid eggs and milk as in the villages.
On the whole I am satisfied with my expedition, and don’t regret having
come. The travelling is hard, but the resting after it is delightful. I
rest with enjoyment.
From Irkutsk I shall make for Baikal, which I shall cross by steamer; it’s
a thousand versts from the Baikal to the Amur, and thence I shall go by
steamer to the Pacific, where the first thing I shall do is to have a bath
and eat oysters.
I got here yesterday and went first of all to have a bath, then to bed. Oh,
how I slept! I never understood what sleep meant till now.
* * * * *