Just beyond Simplon, and down the south face, Domo d’Ossola was a farther six leagues. The new road on this face of the pass was even more remarkable. As they reached the edge of the plateau, which lay nearly a mile above the sea, the valley was become more contracted, and the road began to descend. Here and there, flowers appeared with the season, but the scene was yet mostly one of ice, and a sublime blue-whiteness in every direction. In a short space of time, the village of Simplon appeared, with its several square towers perfectly silhouetted against the ice fields of Rosboden. At the bottom of a wilderness surrounded by high mountains, the village saw no sun for the greater part of the year, and, in consequence, the winters were long and cold; indeed, here of a twelve-month, eight were in winter. The inhabitants seemed cheerful, in contrast to their surroundings, and were comfortably situated: in the summer they raised sheep and tended the valley pastures, and in the winter, the men assisted with the transport of goods over the pass and clearing the road of the rock, trees, and snow which perpetually reburied it—much to their profit. However, the villagers were forced to purchase every necessity, and the brevity of the summer was not conducive to growing any food, not even potatoes. Georgiana told how the snows in winter frequently reached to the second floor of the houses in this place, and even in the midst of winter, there were no fewer than two hundred carts a day passing through the village, so important was this road to commerce.

The place-names became an increasing confusion of Germanic and Italian, with some French added in for good measure. The Darcys planned to take their midday meal at an inn just before Gunt, as it was named in the German language, but more commonly known in Italy as Gondo. The town was reached via the Gallery of Algaby through the granite chasms of the Krumbach, and into the dark Valley of Gondo, so-called because the sun does not penetrate to the valley floor but a few weeks of the year. The gallery was one of the longest on Buonaparte’s road, and had been carved out of pure granite rock. Near-by the gallery was a building designed to protect travellers overtaken by severe weather, and to serve as quarters for those employed in clearing the road. Georgiana continued her description: “Before the present road was constructed, when the only mode of conveyance for goods was upon the backs of horses and mules, several hundreds of those animals, when suddenly overtaken by dangerous weather, might be detained at the inn at Gondo for many days.” Excepting for occasional details that she read from her guide-book, Georgiana was entirely silent, and it seemed beyond the abilities of either Elizabeth or her husband to draw her into longer discourse.