Letters of Anton Chekhov (Tchekhov) - Penn State University

Anton ChekhovTO N. A. LEIKIN.SUMY, August 12.… I have been to the Crimea. I spent twelve days at Suvorin’s inFeodosia, bathed, idled about; I have been to Aivazovsky’s estate. FromFeodosia I went by steamer to Batum. On the way I spent half a dayat Suhum—a charming little town buried in luxuriant, un-Russiangreenery, and one day at the Monastery, at New Athos. It is so lovelythere 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’-chantantsort of town; you feel in it at every step that we have conquered theTurks. There is nothing special about it (except a great number ofbrothels), but the surrounding country is charming. Particularly fineis the road to Kars and the swift river Tchoraksu.The road from Batum to Tiflis is poetical and original; you look allthe time out of window and exclaim: there are mountains, tunnels,rocks, rivers, waterfalls, big and little. But the road from Tiflis to Bakuis the abomination of desolation, a bald plain, covered with sand andcreated for Persians, tarantulas, and phalangas to live in. There is not asingle tree, there is no grass … dreary as hell …. Baku and the CaspianSea are such rotten places that I would not agree to live there for amillion. There are no roofs, there are no trees either; Persian faces everywhere,fifty degrees Reaumur of heat, a smell of kerosine, the naphthasoakedmud squelches under one’s feet, the drinking water is salt.… You have seen the Caucasus. I believe you have seen the GeorgianMilitary Road, too. If you have not been there yet, pawn yourwives and children and the Oskolki* and go. I have never in my lifeseen anything like it. It is not a road, but unbroken poetry, a wonderful,fantastic story written by the Demon in love with Tamara.*Translator’s Note: Oskolki, (i.e., “Chips,” “Bits”) the paper of whichLeikin was editor.89