to the Amoor Valley, and thence either follow down the valley to
Vladivostok or strike across Mongolia to Pekin--the latter route by
preference, if upon reaching Irkutsk I find it to be practicable; if not
practicable, then the Amoor Valley route from necessity. This route I
approve of, as it will not only take me through some of the most
interesting country in Asia, but will probably be a more straightaway
continuous land-journey than any other. The distance from Teheran to
Vladivostok is some six thousand miles, and, well aware that six thousand
miles with a bicycle over Asiatic roads is a task of no little magnitude,
I at once determine upon taking advantage of the fair March weather to
accomplish at least the first six hundred miles of the journey between
Teheran and Meshed, one of the holy cities of Persia.

The bicycle is in good trim, my own health is splendid, my experience of
nearly eight thousand miles of straightaway wheeling over the roads of
three continents ought to count for something, and it is with every
confidence of accomplishing my undertaking without serious misadventure
that I set about making my final preparations to start. The British
Charge d'Affaires gives me a letter to General Melnikoff, the Russian
Minister at the Shah's court, explaining the nature and object of my
journey, and asking him to render me whatever assistance he can to get
through, for most of the proposed route lies through Russian territory.
Among my Teheran friends is Mr. M------, a lively, dapper
little telegraphist, who knows three or four different languages, and who
never seems happier than when called upon to act the part of interpreter
for friends about him.

Among other distinguishing qualities, Mr. M------shines in
Teheran society as the only Briton with sufficient courage to wear a
chimney-pot hat. Although the writer has seen the "stove-pipe" of the