Tuesday. Dearest Mother. I must send you a supplementary line though I don't think it will catch the mail. We have spent a most pleasant afternoon in Port Said. Hugo and I took a long long walk through the native quarter, buying some excellent fresh dates from a barrow. We went right to the end of the town and came back by the sea shore where we sat for some time and eat dates and consulted the map which Hugo had in his pocket - one of Aunt Bessie's excellent and invaluable maps. Then we shopped a tropical outfit for Hugo - a sun hat and an umbrella ditto for use at Aden [('Adan)] and finally we joined the Gascoynes, Muirs and Byngs and had tea and Turkish delight on a balcony. I don't think I have told you about the Byngs - she is Lady Eleanor, he a Major Byng, very nice dear little people. They are however perfectly miserable because they are missing the hunting for which they live and she had a dreadful shock when I reminded her that the benighted people in this town had never so much as heard of a meet! We have just finished coaling and are still tolerably uncomfortable with our cabin ports shut and the deck unwashed. The Isis is due tomorrow at 7, we take in the mails and are off at 8. The next bit of the journey, to Aden is very amusing as one sees land all the way. H. says he is enjoying himself, bless him. He is the most delightful of travelling companions. We spend a lot of time making plans with maps in front of us. We are chiefly exercised as to how many of the Pacific islands we shall visit! It is immensely amusing to have the world before us. But we already feel a terrible long way off. Ever your very affectionate daughter Gertrude.
We telegraphed from here to London