Saturday, May 24, 1650
There is little to say about the road; it winds its way along the north shore of Lake Geneva, the lake beautiful and blue, the mountains in the background. The high hills are covered in vineyards, which in this season have turned green with new leaves and sprouts - too early to grow lush and cover the thousands of poles supporting the vines. You see many boats on the lake, some quite large, up to forty feet long, much of it commercial traffic.
At one point along the road, you come across a single fellow, sitting on a stump before a linen tent, slicing cheese off a block he balances on his thigh. He is dressed in leather armor, a woolen coat, and typical clothes. A great helm and large shield, a sword resting on the shield, sit on the ground near his feet. A javelin leans against the front of the tent, and a horseman's mace hangs on his belt.