Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

Letters of Anton Chekhov to His Family and Friends with biographical sketchTO A. N. PLESHTCHEYEV.IRKUTSK, June 5, 1890.A thousand greetings to you, dear Alexey Nikolaevitch. At last Ihave vanquished the most difficult three thousand versts; I am sittingin a decent hotel and can write. I have rigged myself out all innew things and, as far as possible, smart ones, for you cannot imaginehow sick I was of my big muddy boots, of my sheepskin smellingof tar, of my overcoat covered with bits of hay, of dust andcrumbs in my pockets, and of my extremely dirty linen. I lookedsuch a ragamuffin on the journey that even the tramps eyed measkance; and then, as ill luck would have it, the cold winds and rainchapped my face and made it scaly like a fish. Now at last I am aEuropean again, and I am conscious of it all over.Well, what am I to write to you? It’s all so long and so vast thatone doesn’t know where to begin. All my experiences in Siberia Idivide into three periods. (1) From Tyumen to Tomsk, fifteen hundredversts, terrible cold, day and night, sheepskin, felt boots, coldrains, winds and a desperate life-and-death struggle with the floodedrivers. The rivers had flooded the meadows and roads, and I wasconstantly exchanging my trap for a boat and floating like a Venetianon a gondola; the boats, the waiting on the bank for them, therowing across, etc., all that took up so much time that during thelast two days before reaching Tomsk, in spite of all my efforts, I onlydid seventy versts instead of four or five hundred. There were, moreover,some very uneasy and unpleasant moments, especially whenthe wind rose and began to buffet the boat. (2) From Tomsk toKrasnoyarsk, five hundred versts, impassable mud, my chaise and Istuck in the mud like flies in thick jam. How many times I brokemy chaise (it’s my own property!) how many versts I walked! howbespattered my countenance and my clothes were! It was not drivingbut wading through mud. How I swore at it all! My brain wouldnot work, I could do nothing but swear. I was utterly exhausted,and was very glad to reach the posting station at Krasnoyarsk. (3)From Krasnoyarsk to Irkutsk, fifteen hundred and sixty-six versts,heat, smoke from the burning woods, and dust—dust in one’s172