Vienna, July 16, 1873

Yesterday afternoon I girded my loins, seized a stick in my right hand, and went up into the mountains. I intended to take the steamer to Nussdorf1 and to climb the Leopoldsberg2 from there, but the boat had already gone, leaving me with the bitter necessity of walking in the heat. You know my galloping stride. In an hour I had progressed so far along the Danube that the mountains were lost to view; since I was finding the detour annoying I turned off toward the Kahlenberg, [arriving] there after a long and arduous walk, with my heart beating like a clock striking and with sweat pouring for