Sunday, December 23rd, 3:57 PM, 1872

 This is my last letter. The tour around the world has been completed, and the now well-worn notebook I write in is full. It causes me sadness to finish, but in truth, there is nothing more to write. I shall go back to my house in London, and live my normal life again.

 Did I not mention the wonderful news? Well, I certainly shall. All is well! Fogg did win the wager after all. This is how.

 Passepartout went to the Reverend Samuel Wilson, of Marylebone parish, to tell him about the wedding 'for tomorrow'. Here the Reverend said this was not possible, as 'tomorrow' is Sunday, not Monday! Therefore, as Passepartout told us, after running through the streets and overturning many people, that we had been twenty-four hours ahead of time, making the tour of the world in only 79 days, and the wager could still be won, with only ten minutes to spare!

St Paul's Cathedral

 So Passepartout grabbed him and they got in a cab, where Phileas paid the cabman a hundred pounds to go at top speed. Aouda and I waited nervously in Saville Row, until he came home again. He had won twenty thousand pounds; he had arrived at fifty-seven seconds to a quarter to nine.

 He has gained nothing financially, as he spent nearly nineteen thousand pounds on the journey, and divided that extra thousand between Passepartout (taking out of it the bill for the gas, which had been burning seventy-nine days) and Fix, at whom he held no grudge.

 Despite having no more money from his journey, he has gained something: happiness. When Passepartout told him that he found out one could make the journey in seventy-eight days, he calmly said, "No doubt. By not crossing India. But if I had not crossed India, I should not have saved Aouda; she would not have been my wife, and—" He shut the door.

 Passepartout gave Aouda away two days later; after all, he had saved her!

 And this is where it ends. My small luggage I had taken with me on the journey is packed, and I leave in a few minutes for home. I have become fast friends with Aouda, and will visit her often. Good bye, book! You were with me through thick and thin-What is this? A letter? For me? Passepartout hands it to me.

 Someone is asking my assistants in a journey around Europe in a hot air balloon...Imagine that!

 I may be finished with this book, but out with the old, in comes the new...!

Sunday, December 22nd, 7:53 PM, 1872

London Fishing Market

London Houses Under Railway

 Fogg is ruined. Yesterday we arrived at London five minutes too late, at ten minutes to nine o'clock. The wager is lost, and today we are sure the cheque will be presented at Barings today. He now has no money, having spent it all on the journey.

 But he has gained something! This evening, at seven thirty-one, Aouda and Fogg became engaged! Passepartout now has gone to Reverend Samuel Wilson, of Marylebone parish, to notify him of the wedding tomorrow on Monday. Aouda and Phileas are talking the most I have ever seen them talk, and in a few moments she will come over and we will chatter about the wedding. I sense that Fogg does not care for the money now. Aouda, I also realize, was waiting till this evening to ask him, from her pensiveness all day.

 Here she comes! I will write tomorrow!

Saturday, December 21st, 3:01 PM, 1872

 I now write at 3:01 PM on Saturday, 21st of December, as we are on the train to London, in the company of Aouda, Phileas Fogg, and Passepartout.

Liverpool Station

 It was at two thirty-three that Fix had run into the custom house and released Fogg, admitting that the real robber, he just found out, had been caught three days ago! Phileas maintained his cool, but, to the delight of Passepartout, drew back his arms and sent Fix rolling.

 We got to the station, but our train had already left, and none other was available. We had to order a special train. The engineer had said at first that the train could not possibly leave until three o'clock, but that was nothing a handsome reward could not fix.

 Now we speed along to London, our hearts in our mouths, as delay after delay brings us behind hand more and more minutes.

 I see London in the distance! I will stop writing here to see my old city again. I will write again when we are home safe and sound!

Sunday, December 21st, 11:57 AM, 1872

 A terrible thing has happened! Fogg has been arrested by Fix!

 Last I wrote, we were in the hotel at New York, and Phileas had just come in saying he had found a boat. That was a long time ago now; I can hardly remember it, even. I had not known his plans then. I thought it odd we should go to Bordeaux, which is so far down the French coast, but Fogg was so calm I merely thought he just knew what he was doing. I did not expect him to take over The Henrietta at sea!

 We had just set off, and I was putting my bag in my cabin for the long journey, when I overheard Phileas speaking with the crew, who were occasional, and did not have a good relationship with the captain. I heard them speaking money, and was concerned, but nothing like I was when I saw Mr Speedy, the captain, put in Fogg's cabin bound hand and foot! I asked what was happening, and was coolly told we were taking the boat to Liverpool. What could I do? Nothing at all.

 Through storm and gale we were led on a straight path by Phileas's steady hand, the boat pushed to her limits, and the furnace burning hotter than ever before.

 However, about nine hundred miles from Liverpool, it was announced by the engineer we were running out of coal. In another two hundred miles, we would be completely stuck!

 Fogg, maintaining his taciturn manner, said nothing but, "Feed all the fires until the coal is exhausted." By this time, most thought him mad, though all followed his orders.

Liverpool

 Sure enough, at noon, on the eighteenth, the coal gave out. At this point, Passepartout was ordered to bring Mr Speedy upon deck.

 He came up, raving like a bear, even more when Phileas asked to buy his boat.

 "No!" was the quick reply.

  After getting this much expected answer, Fogg told him that, as the coal had run out, he would be obliged to burn all the wood that could be spared on board. He offered Speedy sixty thousand pounds for the wood, excluding the metal and engine; the most valuable parts of the boat!

 Who would not take this offer? It was easily accepted, and all wood available was burned. Using this, we arrived at Queenstown, where we stopped. All was well, until, at the most unexpected moment, Fix asked Phileas if he really was who he said he was. This, obviously, was confirmed, at which the rascal pulled out his warrant and said, "I arrest you in the Queen's name!"

 Now I write in a police car; my hands are shaking. We are arriving at Liverpool, but Fogg is as calm as always. The car has stopped, I must be done. I will write more when, hopefully, all is well!

Friday, December 12th, 8:41 PM, 1872

 Two days ago, December 10th, we were transported from Fort Kearney to Omaha by sledge. A Mr Mudge had a large sledge with sails for speeding across the ice and snow such as there was, and Mr Fogg paid him dearly to gain transport for five persons. Aouda and I were ordered to stay behind with Passepartout, but we would not hear of it. Though I tried to be as brave and outwardly confident for the benefit of the others, it was so cold on the journey I was too numb to write, and barely said three words together. I could barely walk by the time we reached Omaha.


 We saw nothing of Omaha. We immediately boarded a train exactly on time and reached Chicago at four o'clock. From there we took the train to New York, reaching our destination on the 11th. Here we met a stop. We had missed our boat, The China, by three quarters of an hour!

 Passepartout, of course, blamed himself, when he should have blamed the Indians. No other boats were available to sail to London, and they would not be leaving for a few days. We had to take rooms, and search again the this morning.

 That is where Phileas is now, searching the docks for a boat. He told me and Aouda to be ready for quick departure, and we are, so I now write. But wait, I hear footsteps. It is him!

 I must hurry! He has found us a boat to Bordeaux, where we shall go to London from. We must leave. I will write again at sea or in Bordeaux.

Monday, December 8th, 7:30 AM, 1872

  Much has happened since Saturday!

  Despite our efforts to keep Fogg and Colonel Stamp Proctor apart, they met and began an argument. They decided on a duel with revolvers at Plum Creek (though we begged Phileas to leave it alone), but the train was thirty minutes behind time, and did not stop. The conductor was nice enough, unfortunately, to clear out a car for the two to settle their argument. However, before shots could be exchanged, a band of Sioux Indians attacked the train!

  It took a full ten minutes to chase them away, and they were armed with revolvers. Thankfully, almost everyone there was armed. At the beginning, the Indians tried to stop the train, but, not knowing how to work it, they put it into full speed. If we passed Fort Kearny without stopping, there was no hope for us.

  But Passepartout was brave, and fought his way to the front to stop it, in which he succeeded. No one was killed except for the Indians, by falling beneath the train and by gunshots from the passengers. Not all was right, though. Three people were missing, including Passepartout, either dead or taken passenger.

  Mr. Fogg proceeded, with a band of thirty men, to go after them and rescue the missing. That was Sunday, and they did not return until thirty minutes ago, all safe and sound! We missed the train leaving, and there shall not be one until this evening, and, we fear, we shall surely lose the bet, but what is that cost, compared to saving three lives?

Saturday, December 6th, 12:00 PM, 1872

Medicine Bow

  I have had a most awful fright! We reached the Medicine Bow bridge, and found it broken! It would take six hours at least for another train to come, and no one in the crowd of passengers wanted to wait that long. Everyone was preparing for a long wait when the engineer suggested going at such a speed as to 'jump' the bridge! It all worked out fine, of course, or I would not be writing, but such a scare did it give me. It was over in about three seconds, but the worst part was reversing a mile and then approaching the turbulent waters at full speed.

  Colonel Stamp Proctor is aboard, and we are trying our best to keep him and Fogg separated, for fear they will begin their duel and will cause delay and the loss of the wager, and our efforts are succeeding for the time being. We are keeping him occupied by whist, at which Aouda knows some about from her English education, and Fix is a rather good player. I myself prefer other games, but I am acquainted with it, and play when I am in the mood.

  I have nothing more to write, so here I sign off.

Friday, December 5th, 5:33 PM, 1872

  Today we have passed the Salt Lake! It is a beautiful lake, though it would be so much prettier if surrounded by animals, and inhabited by fish. Salt Lake City is a lovely town, though very square. Unlike San Fransisco, it has reached my expectations.

Salt Lake

  This area is full of Mormons, and sometimes it is quite unnerving, as I remarked to Passepartout, to see the groups of women where none looking happy, and the slightly well off ones wear plain black gowns.

  This morning, I joined, with Passepartout, a lecture given by one Elder William Hitch, a Mormon, on that faith. We were the last ones to remain, and even we did not stay till the end. It was quite fatiguing.

  On the whole, it is quite nice in this part of America, excepting the light covering of snow on the ground.

  Another merchant is coming with food; I may just buy some. So I leave off my writing now. I will write tomorrow.

Thursday, December 4th, 9:24 PM, 1872

  I find myself with little to write about this evening. Surely, the landscape is beautiful, and the sights of thousands of buffalo are amazing, but no events that are noteworthy have happened. The train is comfortable enough, and at night the seats turn into the most lovely beds. I slept better last night than I have in many nights.

  We have lost a good three hours in the crossing of about ten or twelve thousand head of buffalo, though Phileas Fogg seems not in the least worried.

  All is well with us, though Aouda does cough. I am signing off with this train photograph I found in San Fransisco.

Wednesday, December 3rd, 6:23 PM, 1872:

  We are on the train to New York! Not much has happened today. When we got off the boat, we took the carriage to a hotel, and then, on our way to the consul to get our passports visaed, met Mr Fix. Unfortunately, in my eyes, he shall be accompanying us all the way back to London. When Passepartout was off buying supplies, we were on our way, as mentioned to the consul, and found a great crowd outside a building. There was an election for the justice of peace, as we soon found out, between Mr Mandiboy and Mr Camerfield, and, when Mr Mandiboy won, we were caught amongst them as they all began to fight one another. Mr Fogg and Mr Fix were, indeed, in a state, and there was needs to go to the tailor for clothes. Now we are on the train.

San Fransisco street

 
San Fransisco was not all I had expected. It used to be a legendary town, and now, it is full of thieves and gamblers, and it is much more dangerous on railroads here in America.

  I close off this evening with the thought that I shall be glad to be out of the country, and back into good old England.

Wednesday, December 3rd, 9:58 AM, 1872:

  We have finally arrived in the Golden Gate in San Francisco! It has been a long, tiring journey here, but we have made it.

  I write in the quay, as we wait for the boat to be tied up.

  Have I not mentioned Passepartout has returned? No, I have not, I see, flipping through the leaves of my now worn journal. It appears there is much I have not written about.

  We signalled the American steamer at Shanghai as it was leaving for Yokohama and were taken on board. To our great joy, we found that, as we landed in Japan, Passepartout had come on the Carnatic. We went to all the consuls, but he was not to be found there. We had almost given up hope when we entered a theatre, and, standing at the front of the crowd, one of the 'long noses' rushed forward and addressed Fogg. Immediately it was obvious it was Passepartout. Phileas did not remark much upon the sudden joining, but merely said it was about time to go on board the General Grant, the boat we would take to to the Americas.

  It is good to have Passepartout back. I hear, also, Mr Fix is on board. I do say that he follows us rather carefully! Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of him in the crowd, as if waiting to see where we would go. I hope he has business in America and shall not bother us further.

10:29 AM:  The boat has docked! And Aouda, behind Phileas and Passepartout, urges me to come. I hope my next writing is on the train to New York!

Wednesday, October 8th, 7:43 PM, 1872

  I have not much to write today, nor do I have much time. A gale has been blowing all day; even now, I have to stay in the hold, for otherwise my pages will become soaked through and rip.

  We are but one hundred miles from Shanghai, and the sky is dark with rain and clouds. The salt from the boisterous ocean has permeated the air, since it is in our clothes and soaked into our hair. We all could go below, but the space is so crowded and stifling, and you cannot see when a wave is about to send the boat spinning upon the waves, and I detest being down here and should return immediately if not for the sake of my journal.

  Aouda is, I am sure, scared in the storm, but she is brave, and continues to stay on deck. Mr Fogg's mouth is set in a thin, firm line, awaiting the smallest inclination of calm waters. Mr Fix continues to abuse the weather, and the crew are running about in an effort to keep the boat afloat.

  I feel guilty for remaining down here when I am sure my help could be used above, but, however, have I any experience on a boat? I am afraid not, and maybe I am better down here, out of the way.

  I cannot stay. A sudden wave has sent my ink all over the floor, and a few drops from the ceiling are dampening my pages. I shall write more when I have time.

Tuesday, November 7th, 7:37 AM, 1872

  It is very disturbing. Passepartout is nowhere to be found, and it is already the next morning since we saw him. Aouda and I are very worried, and met Mr Fix earlier, and he was not with him. I suspect, though I have told no one, that he knows more than he lets on, but it would be very rude to accuse him.

  The Carnatic left last night by change of schedule, so we have missed it.

  However, not all is lost, for Phileas has found a man, Mr John Bunsby, owner of the Tankadere, who is willing to take us to Shanghai, Japan, where the boat Mr Fogg is supposed to take to the Americas begins. Until we set sail, Phileas has gone is search of Passepartout as I sit in the cabin of the Tankadere and try and comfort Aouda, as she is much worried by the disappearance of our French friend.

  Now Mr Bunsby is calling me; I must go. I will write when I know more.  

Monday, November 6th, 5:48 PM, 1872

Victoria Prison

  In the past three hours I have been going around Hong Kong with Aouda. We have visited the Victoria prison, the train station, the museums, the temples, the markets, and all were enjoyable.

 
We did not go much near the prison, though, for it wasn't allowed, nor do I think I should want to go closer than thirty feet away if I could.

  The train station was quite full, but we still were able to look up and see the paintings on the ceilings, and the exquisite carvings that adorned the whole place. It was unfortunate that it was time for a  train to come in, as I don't think it would have been so crowded.

Hong Kong Temple

  In the museums, we saw many rich artefacts they believed were from before this land was even inhabited; even, prehistoric animal skeletons and dinosaurs. Too, stuffs and jewellery from deceased rulers and visiting nobles were placed in glass cases, glinting brilliantly in the hot sun.

  In the temples, things I had never dreamed of before were before my eyes. Of course, it was forbidden to enter them, but I could see that everything inside was covered in gold through the open doorway, and the same outside. Statues were everywhere, and Chinese letters adorned the lintel. Incense filled the air, and I wondered how priests worked there everyday.



Hong Kong street

  In markets, it was hard not to buy everything. Spices filled my nose, cloth with golden letters and dragons, delicious food, smoking hot, beautifully carved tables and other pieces of furniture were everywhere, and there was not a moment of silence.

  On the
whole, it is a very lovely city. Aouda was constantly amazed with me, and I do not understand how Mr. Fogg does not come out to enjoy the scenery; he prefers to keep to his hotel.

  Now my companion wishes to return home, I must get up from the bench were I sit and write and pick my way back through the crowds. I shall write more tomorrow when I am on the boat.

 

Monday, November 6th, 1:53 PM, 1872

  It is so nice to be in a proper bed after all those nights on the boat!

  Today we arrived at Hong Kong a day late. Mr. Fogg believes the time can be made up in the journey across the Pacific if the weather favours us. Since we are a day late, we missed the steamer to Yokohama. However, the Carnatic is going to Japan tomorrow morning at five in the morning; Phileas is most certainly going to be on it. The boat was in because they had to repair her boiler, so we shall not have to wait a week.

Hong Kong

  Unfortunately for her, Aouda's relative, Jeejeeh, had made much money and retired to Europe two years ago, and we believe he is in Holland. In case this is true, she shall accompany us to England.

  Mr. Fix continues to follow us; I hear he is perhaps also to go to Japan, which worries me not a little, for he has followed us all the way from Suez. Passepartout has put me in his confidence and told me what he believes Mr. Fix is really here for. He thinks that he is from the Reform Club, sent by the members to make sure Fogg is doing as was promised; going around the world in 80 days. I agree that he is not just happening to be where ever we are, for I do believe he has entered this very hotel. He may or not may be from the Reform Club, but whether he is or not, I do not think he is all he appears.

  Ah, Passepartout is back from reserving the cabins in the Carnatic; I believe I should end my writing and attend to Aouda, too. That is all for now. I close off with a small picture of Amsterdam I have carried with me since we were in London. I didn't quite know our route and thought we would pass by there.

Amsterdam

Wednesday, October 30th, 8:24 PM, 1872

  As I write now I am aboard the Ragoon, being tossed upon the waves till I am feeling quite sickly. Aouda, in whose company I am now in, is, I fear, worse off than me, for she has never been on a boat before but once, when she was a young girl. Mr. Fogg is upstairs playing whist, and Passepartout is with Mr. Fix. He hints that Mr. Fix is not all he seems, with which I completely agree, though I believe that he means it in a different manner.

  

Singapore

  We stopped at Singapore today, at 4:00 AM, and Mr. Fogg took Aouda into the country on an early carriage ride, whilst I went with Passepartout to buy necessities. We boarded the boat again at about eleven o'clock this morning, and since then it has been quite stormy, and though he does not show it, I think Mr. Fogg is worried it would delay our journey. We have only half a day to spare and, though at first the wind was helpful when we used sails as well as steam, the canvas has been taken down and we are going quite slowly. Passepartout is furious. Now he is calling me to introduce Aouda to Mr. Fix. I shall write more when we have reached Hong Kong.

Tuesday, October 30, 4:36 PM, 1872

An astounding thing has happened! We were arrested in Calcutta, on the foolishness of Passepartout! He had entered a pagoda where no one was allowed with their shoes on. He managed to flee after accosting the priests, so of course we were then caught up with by the law. The English hold the Indian cultures in very high esteem, so long as they are not harmful to the people.

Calcutta

So as not to delay ourselves, Mr. Fogg had to pay the bail to get Passepartout and himself out of the courthouse and once more onto the streets of Calcutta. We boarded the Ragoon, and here I sit, a day away from the stop in Singapore, writing as much as possible in case I have no time in the next few days. It is not as comfortable as the Mongolia, but it suits my needs, and I am in pleasant company as I am staying with Aouda. I saw Mr. Fix aboard the boat. I am suspicious of him; I do believe I saw him sitting in the corner of the courthouse, though I do not tell anyone for fear I am mistaken and it causes a problem for nothing; and worse, if I should delay Phileas on the journey! We are already caught up, and if we lost a day, the twenty thousand pounds would be at risk. As I said, seeing Mr. Fix here makes me think he is not all that Passepartout thinks of him, and I feel as if we are being followed. If he follows us past Hong Kong, I believe I shall have to tell someone. I hear Aouda calling; I shall write when I have the time.

Friday, October 25th, 9:00 AM, 1872:

  So much has happened the past few days I have had no time to write. But now as I sit in on a bench in Calcutta from sitting in a train car that smelled profusely of tobacco, with Mr. Fogg silent in his corner as usual, while Passepartout and Mr. Francis Cromarty attempt to relate to Aouda, the lately deceased rajah's young wife, all the happenings.

  First, however, I must explain that, on the way from Bombay to Calcutta, the train tracks stopped in the hamlet of Kholby. They had not been finished, though papers declared it was so. Then we wandered around in search of transportation, paying dearly for an Elephant, and hiring a Parsee as an escort. We then continued our journey a day, riding without events along the thickly entangled jungle, until  the next day when we heard cries and chants coming toward us. Hiding in the foliage, we experience the sight of a group of Brahmins muttering and singing their way down the narrow path. Behind them was a horror: a statue of the Indian goddess Kali of love and death. Behind again, was a young girl, led by two men, and followed a corpse on a stretcher and other people, singing.

  This girl, no other than Aouda, was in a stupefied state, having been drugged with the fumes of hemp. The man on the stretcher was her husband, a rajah, and she was being led to be burned with him at dawn at his funeral. This was a normal custom.

  Fogg decided to make an effort to save her, but we had trouble entering the pagoda to which she was led. We were able to make a hole, but were soon found out, and had to flee to the jungle nearby.

  We thought all was lost when daylight approached, and Aouda and her deceased husband were laid upon the wood, on top of the sticks that were covered with oil in order to burn, until, in the midst of the flames, the man, very much alive it appeared, got up, and, taking Aouda in his arms, led her out and up to us. With a "Let us go", Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty, the Parsee, Passepartout (who was no other than the one that led her out of the flames), Aouda, and myself fled to the elephant, and after a hasty mount, went as fast as possible into the jungle. Before long we were found, as it was seen that the real rajah was burning beside the wooden board upon the sticks, but the missed us by a large margin and we escaped.

  From there we continued our journey to Allahabad, where the tracks were resumed. Aouda was still in her incoherent state then, but soon came to, and it was decided to drop her off at Hong Kong, where she had a relative. The Parsee was paid as promised, with an added bonus of the elephant for his devotion. Then we continued to Benares, where Sir Francis Cromarty parted ways with us, for this was his destination. From there, we reached Calcutta at seven o'clock, and now, it is two hours until we board the boat to Hong Kong. As it is, I shall go with Passepartout to get some needed items, so here I end my story.

Sunday, October 20th, 11:30 AM, 1872:

Good news! We have reached Bombay in two days less that expected. We went to Bombay via Aden. Arriving at Aden on the 13th, we stayed there four hours before setting off again  sixteen hundred and fifty miles to Bombay.

Passepartout seems to have found a friend. I believe his name is Mr. Fix, and is an agent of the Peninsular Company. Mr. Fogg has remained below decks all these past days, only playing whist with a few other passengers and eating, though there are parties and gaieties above deck. I took part a little in those, in the dancing, and I played a piece I knew on the piano. I also saw many sights of which it appears Phileas is not the least interested in. We went through the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, saw many ruins, and the coffee fields were immense. The captain has now called travellers to get off the boat. I shall write more when on the train to Calcutta.

Wednesday, October 9th, 12 AM, 1872:

We all had to go to the consul, as Passepartout explained, to get the passports visaed. It appears that Mr. Fogg had to be there. We walked along the loud streets, trying to weave our way to the office, the sounds almost deafening us. It was an odd change once we entered the little building, for it was almost silent in there. A man was in the corner, and the consul officer at the desk. Mr. Fogg was not in the least pleased he had to go himself, and answered the questions frankly. He then retired to his cabin, and I decided to walk around Suez in the hope of seeing some of the famous sights. It was almost as noisy as the quay, excepting the sailors. I saw the canal, the markets, smelled the hot food in the stalls, and looked at the queer metal and clay pieces for sale. After an hour, I returned to the boat and rested for the journey.

Wednesday, October 9th, 11 AM, 1872:

Today we arrived in Suez on the Mongolia. Passepartout has gone to get Mr. Fogg's passport visaed. I watch him now from my position near Phileas on the deck go through the crowd to a man watching the passengers decend from the ship.They are talking now; Passepartout shrugs his shoulders and returns. He says Mr. Fogg must go to the consul himself! I fear this won't go well...

Wednesday, October 2nd, 10:23 PM, 1872:

Today we boarded the train for Paris from London. Mr. Fogg stayed in his corner and Passepartout mainly sat there with a stupefied look, clasping onto the carpet-bag with the money in it. The sights were new to me, so I was kept busy and did not trouble them. I mostly looked at the scenery, for I had not been much abroad, hence the reason I ventured with Phileas on this journey. Apart from that not much has happened.