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On the way I spent half a day at Suhum a charming little town buried in luxuriant, un-Russian greenery, and one day at the Monastery, at New Athos. It is so lovely there at New Athos that there is no describing it: waterfalls, eucalyptuses, tea-plants, cypresses, olive-trees, and, above all, sea and mountains, mountains, mountains.
From Athos and Suhum I went to Poti; the River Rion, renowned for its valley and its sturgeons, is close by. The vegetation is luxuriant. All the streets are planted with poplars. Batum is a big commercial and military, foreign-looking, cafe'-chantant sort of town; you feel in it at every step that we have conquered the Turks. Particularly fine is the road to Kars and the swift river Tchoraksu.
If she were undressed and painted green she would look just like a frog. After talking to her I mentally scratched her off the list of women doctors.... July 28, 1888. On the Seas Black, Caspian, and of Life. ... A wretched little cargo steamer, Dir, is racing full steam from Suhum to Poti. It is about midnight. The little cabin the only one in the steamer is insufferably hot and stuffy.
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