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"Down Under", Bill Bryson
Random House, 2001

Bryson well and truly returns to form with this book on Australia. It is the best of the self-deprecating and exaggerated humour that won him his fans in the first place. But he also steers clear of overdoing the sermons on how places have changed - and never for the better when viewed through BrysonVision. This gives the book an affectionate and much lighter tone.

More than perhaps any of his previous books, this Australian effort can actually be used as a guide book to some degree. He certainly goes to some unusual and fascinating places while all the time emphasizing that this is merely scratching the surface of this vast continent.

Bryson is also not disingenuous by denying his celebrity status these days. Indeed, this affords him opportunities most travellers would not have but, because we have grown to like him, we don't really resent his publisher helping him out here and there for the sake of a good story.

Everyone will have their favourite excerpts from this book - and the majority will probably involve some type of small, lethal insect (of which there are many). But for me, the memory that lingers is the sheer stupidity of some of the early explorers who would set off into the outback with no clue as to where they were going, or how long it would take to get there. It is our good fortune that Bryson gets an air-conditioned car, or one suspects he too would have returned a rambling madman. JT

Overall verdict: Bryson's best since "The Lost Continent".
Also see Oceania NB: This book is published in the US as "In a Sunburned Country"
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Starting your book, "I'm not, by nature, a betting man. I'm not, by nature, a drinking man", raises a certain level of expectation in the reader - and happily Hawks' book lives up to this.

Englishman Hawks takes off on a one-month quest to hitchhike around the circumference of Ireland with a 2 x 2 foot fridge in tow, after making and, perhaps even more daftly, honouring a drunken bet.

Not surprisingly, he arrives in Dublin with a certain amount of trepidation and visions of loosing face/being mistaken for a terrorist/freezing to death by a lonely roadside. However, with the people of Ireland mobilized early on by the nation's favourite radio talk show host, he soon gets into the swing of things. Together he and his fridge go surfing, enter a bachelor festival, meet the poorest king on earth - and discover a direct correlation between the pace of life and the time it takes a pint of stout to settle.

As those familiar with his British radio and TV appearances will expect, Hawks has a fluid and amusing style. He also comes across as a fairly likeable fellow, no doubt a helpful trait when trying to persuade strangers to give you and your fridge a ride.

You won't find rapturous descriptions of Ireland's green countryside or an insightful analysis of the country's present-day condition here. At its heart, this book is about the people of rural Ireland, who manage even in the face of Ireland's "Celtic Tiger" economic boom to maintain a relaxed, accommodating and often eccentric take on life. Those Hawks encounters display a refreshing abundance of warmth, generosity and good humour. Above all, they understand why a man would wish to undertake such a foolhardy and pointless venture in the first place - and therein lies the secret of the book. CM

Overall verdict: A very entertaining read.
Also see Europe
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This may be McCarthy's first book, but his ample writing experience is clear in this extremely well written, funny, and touching account of his travels in his mother's native western Ireland. Oh yes, and of his quest to drink Guinness in bars called McCarthy - a laudable aim of any trip. Studiously avoiding any of the new laddishness of Tony Hawks' Round Ireland with a Fridge, McCarthy the Englishman makes an excellent travelling companion. He regularly gets lost, condemns or praises each new-found drinking partner in a sentence or two, and all the while stops short of falling into the Bryson trap of reveling in heritage while lambasting modernity.

One of the best features of the book is his snippets of Irish radio phone-in shows. Behind the hilarity, it is these that offer some of the clearest insights into modern rural Irish life with no need for further commentary.

In constant search of affirmation that he somehow belongs in Ireland, yet ever aware of the similar claims of every American tourist he meets, McCarthy ends up pondering some big questions about identity - and ends up with some suitably complex answers.

But this is not a deep metaphysical book - we are also witness to McCarthy running away from bulls, gatecrashing parties and regularly comparing the price of Singapore noodles. However the killer section - and it is a denouement that creeps up on you - is his time spent in purgatory. I will say no more.

If you need dispelling of the notion that Ireland is all shamrocks and leprechauns, then many books will suffice. But if you want to try and understand a country through the eyes of someone desperate to come to terms with all that it stands for, I doubt you will find a more entertaining way of doing so. JT

Overall verdict: Excellent read.
Also see Europe
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It is hard to believe that Tim Moore is quite the couch potato he would have us believe. Although anyone daft enough to attempt to tackle the route of the 2000 Tour de France with even some training must be a sprocket short of a chainring. Moore claims less training than this and thus is the scene set for his comic journey through France, and his fourth book.

Tour history is not all so tragic - the rules also come in for much mockery. In 1913 one rider - sticking to the rules - had to carry his bike 10km to a blacksmiths and forge a new pair of forks. He was then penalized a further 10 minutes because he received help from a third party: the blacksmith's boy who pumped the bellows!

Some of Moore's personal anecdotes, however, are a little hard to believe, and some reviewers have criticized his "mock everything" approach. For me, it still works. He sets out his stall from the beginning and mocking everything includes mocking himself.

Somewhat inevitably, as Moore's fitness improves over the course of his month's odyssey, the cycling become all-consuming and he lapses at times into a pedal-by-pedal account that may be of less interest to the non-cycling reader. The book may start coasting downhill towards the end, but this does not detract from the overall read, nor from the climax of the story which is well worth hanging on for. JT

Overall verdict: If you like cycling, you'll love this.
Also see Europe
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