Travel memoirs

Originally published in the Ketchikan Daily News, March 2007; written by Lisa Pearson.

During this time of year – grey and cold – one of my favorite reading genres is the travel memoir. And when I say that I like travel memoirs, I don’t mean any type of travel book. I don’t want to read a meaningful account by some strapping, rugged young person who experienced a spiritual epiphany on the top of some unclimbable mountain or at the headwaters of some previously undiscovered river. The travel books I like fall into the “hapless British traveler under 50 making an idiot of themselves in a foreign, preferably exotic, place” genre. Believe it or not, we actually have quite a few of these books here at the library.

My hands-down favorite would have to be “Frost on my moustache: the Arctic exploits of a lord and a loafer”. Journalist Tim Moore recounts his travels to Iceland, the Norwegian coast and the island of Svalbard (which I freely admit I had never heard of). He retraces the footsteps of the strapping, rugged young Victorian adventurer Lord Dufferin, who completed his voyage through the Arctic seas in 1856. Moore is absolutely hilarious as he describes his travails with seasickness, aquavit, and herring in cream. His encounters with other European tourists while bicycling to the interior of Iceland point out both their rigid inability to have fun and his sloppy inability to plan ahead. He pokes further fun at his lack of adventuring skills by including excerpts from Lord Dufferin’s account of his own voyage. The fact that Moore is constantly miserable, despite the advantages of heat, electricity, freeze-dried foods and large diesel-powered boats highlights just how invigorating (and probably insufferable) a companion Lord Dufferin must have been.

Whether or not Ireland should be considered a foreign land by the British has been the centerpiece of centuries of bloody conflict, but for my purposes, I’m willing to include “Round Ireland with a fridge” in my ‘British traveler on foreign soil’ genre. Radio personality Tony Hawks is bet by a friend that he cannot hitchhike around the circumference of Ireland with a refrigerator in 4 weeks. A caveat: when Hawks uses the word ‘Ireland’ he means the nation, not the island (so his time in Northern Ireland lasts about 30 minutes) and he uses what we would call a ‘dorm fridge’, not a double-door Frigidaire with an icemaker. But aside from those little quibbles, Hawks spends four funny, soggy weeks hopping in and out of cars and trying to explain himself to the bemused Irish. They buy him drinks, sign his fridge, find him lodging and generally take him under their collective wing. It takes a lot to out-eccentric the Irish, and they seem to appreciate his attempt. This book is funny and interesting without being entirely silly: a nice combo.

Another fun entry in this genre is “Route 66 A.D.: on the trail of ancient Roman tourists” by Tony Perrottet. He’s actually Australian, not British, but at least he’s a member of the Commonwealth. Like Moore, he is also recreating a journey undertaken by more intrepid ancient travelers: Roman citizens enjoying the ability to travel safely along an extensive road system and busy shipping lanes during the Pax Romana. Guided by a reconstruction of a ‘world map’ commissioned by the Roman general Marcus Agrippa, Perrottet follows the routes taken by those ancient Roman tourists. He goes from Rome to Greece, then to the Turkish coast and down to Egypt. His description of his visit to the ancient site of Troy is especially interesting, as the site is only a few miles from Gallipoli, where over 8,500 ANZAC (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) troops died fighting the Turkish army in World War I. (As an aside, if you have never seen the film ‘Gallipoli’, you should). Perrottet is not as bumbling as Moore, and his book has lots of historical facts (it even has a bibliography!), but it is so well-written that it flows along quickly.

For a final suggestion, I give you “In search of King Solomon's mines” by Tahir Shah. While visiting Jerusalem, Shah purchases an “authentic” map to the mines of Suleiman from Ali Baba’s Tourist Emporium. Intrigued by the idea of searching for a treasure that hundreds of people had sought before him, Shah begins researching the life of Solomon, his appearances in the Bible and the Koran, and previous attempts to uncover his lost treasure of gold. Shah takes the reader on an adventure across Ethiopia, visiting mining camps, tiny villages, monasteries and caravan routes. Shah is by no means an inept traveler, but he must rely on the help and goodwill of his Ethiopian guides to navigate through the physically and politically difficult landscape of Ethiopia. One of the most interesting parts of his journey is a visit to Debra Damo, a monastery founded 1,500 years ago on the top of a plateau so steep that visitors are hauled up on a rope; the monks never leave the plateau and subsist on rainwater and offerings from nearby villagers. Shah may not be as funny as Moore and Hawks, but his travels are fascinating and make for a wonderful read.