The map which accompanies it shows me station by station the course of the line between Tiflis and Baku.

Not to know the direction taken by the engine, to be ignorant if the train is going northeast or southeast, would be insupportable to me, all the more as when night comes, I shall see nothing, for I cannot see in the dark as if I were an owl or a cat.
My time-table shows me that the railway skirts for a little distance the carriage road between Tiflis and the Caspian, running through Saganlong, Poily, Elisabethpol, Karascal, Aliat, to Baku, along the valley of the Koura.

We cannot tolerate a railway which winds about; it must keep to a straight line as much as possible.

And that is what the Transgeorgian does.
Among the stations there is one I would have gladly stopped at if I had had time, Elisabethpol.

Before I received the telegram from the _Twentieth Century_, I had intended to stay there a week.