In Schönberg, halfway from Lübeck, I didn't find a carriage at the post office and had to change to a charabanc, in which I could not lean, sat as straight as a rail, and felt the jolt of every little pebble. With what pleasure did I ride into the bright, lively, boisterous Hamburg! “Where would you like me to take you?” asked the coachman. “To the Belvedere!” I said with impatience and counted the minutes. We drove up a hill. The view of the Alster, surrounded by magnificent buildings and greenery, opened in front of me. But even here, the leaves have not fully unfolded; it is still early spring. Along the way, I noticed several big, new buildings erected since my previous visit to Hamburg. In the Belvedere, I was met, like a long-awaited guest, but because friends are usually treated unceremoniously, I was given a very bad room with windows overlooking a narrow street instead of the Jungfernstieg. Planning to stay in town but for a short time, I agreed to take it. In an excellent restaurant of the Belvedere, set up in the Parisian manner, I broke my fast after eating only dry food on the ship, and I had oysters for the first time this year. At home in Petersburg, they hardly could be found yet. Having rested after dinner, I set out to a bookstore to get some books that I could not find in Petersburg and delivered several letters with my business cards. I intended to travel to London the very next day: wrote some important letters, mailed them, and went to the steamship office: but as soon as I got into one of the alleys, I happened upon Allut, a local merchant, who visited my domestic circle last year in Petersburg, knew each member of my family, and now expressed sincere condolences in my tragedy. He pleaded with me in a very persuasive manner to stay for one or two days, get some rest, meet his family, and let him repay the debt of hospitality.