Thursday, 13 August 1874

We go into town again and visit the fourteenth-century house. We have a coachman who is like Christian mixed with Pougin — a great talker, very amusing.
I have ordered another parasol, a dagger one — the one from Dupuis is lost. I do not regret it; it pleased me never pleased me. The one from Lafo will have a dagger and a flask, and will cost a hundred francs.
At last we depart; at six o’clock we reach Ostende, take the omnibus — the Ocean, no room at the Ocean; search the whole city, an infuriating porter blocking us everywhere. Each of us We are all irritated beyond measure; leave our hand luggage at the Ocean and go on foot. More difficulties, Maman in a state; we go from hotel to hotel without deciding anything — four times to the Royal Hotel of Prussia and four to the Hotel de France; at last, after infinite torments, we stay at the France. We receive a telegram from my aunt; she is arriving following a letter from Maman in which she told her I was dying. What madness.
But there it is.
Go to bed at midnight. Journey over.