| Description | A transcript of the letter can be found below:
Granada
19 [Oct 1877]
My dear Papa
Tomorrow is my last day in Granada. On Sunday I turn my face Londonward, and my holiday will be pretty nearly at an end, as I have, from want of time, given up my original intention of seeing Valencia, Alicante, Tarragona, etc etc. Travelling in Spain is so infinitely slower than I had remembered it, and so ideally inconvenient in regard to hours of starting and arriving, that my programme has altogether undergone considerable modifications. I reached this place a good week late than I expected, and I did not get your letter till some days later yet, owing, I suppose, to the difficulty experienced by the postal authorities in the art of reading. This will account to you for the time that will have elapsed between your receipt of my two epistles. I am truly sorry to hear that poor Lina is below par; tell her so, with my love. As you do not speak of yourself, I presume that you are in good form, and am glad to hear it. There is one passage in your letter which suggests to me a strong protest. I think it preposterous that the ambulant spinsters, or otherwise, with whom you foregather on your journeys, should expect you to furnish them with photos of your 'celebrated son'. I like enthusiasm; but genuine enthusiasm does not halt at a shilling, which is the sum for which my effigy is obtainable in the public market; verb.sap. I will not describe to you Toledo, Cordova, Seville, Granada, etc. (under which heads see Murray's guidebook). I have done so before (probably), and they have altered less than I, with the exception, perhaps, of Granada, or rather the Alhambra, which, alas! is brand new. I ought, perhaps, to remark that the changes in me are not precisely in that direction. Taking a birds-eye view of my holiday, I don't think I should call it altogether a success, though I have had many very delightful moments, and have seen many very beautiful things; but, in the first place, I have failed to fulfil one of the special objects of my trip, that, namely, of making a few sketches of sky effects, particularly seaside skies, which I sorely want for my picture of the girls and the skein of worsted. I have not done so, because I have not once seen anything even resembling the skies I mean, and which are generally forthcoming at this season. The weather has indeed of late been fine, often if not always, and here even, at times, superb; but it is the before the rains, and not, as it should be, the clear, keen, autumn weather, after the air has been well swept and purged by the equinoctial broom and pail, which I had a right to demand of a Mediterranean October. This is a great disappointment. I did not want to work, and God knows I have not (five little sketches in all!); but just this document I did peremptorily require. In the second place, I have been rather seedy (am all right now), not very, but enough to poison my pleasure; and just so much that, after two or three little amateur attempts (local apothecary, fellow-travellers, etc etc), I thought it right (at Gibraltar) to see a doctor, not because I was ill, but lest I should get worse and develop more serious symptoms, as internal disturbance occasionally does in hot countries. In a few days (and two large bottles of physic) I was much better, and am now, I repeat, quite 'myself' again.
But I perceive that this uninteresting twaddle has filled by paper, and barely left me space to tell that I have been to Africa, and shall be home on the 28th (evening). Yes, to Africa; Tangiers in four hours' steam from Gibraltar, and a most picturesque spot, of which more when we meet. On my way home I shall spend part of a day in Madrid, in the hopes of seeing the pictures this time. On my road through France I shall make a short break at Poitiers.
A bientot
Affectionate son
Fred.
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