I was inspired to read this book based on a glowing review on Goodreads by a friend. Plus I, too, love England; in fact, the UK. Here are my thoughts:
First, a well-read educated professor in English Literature, Toth writes with wit, humour, honesty and a graceful style. Who else would describe a wobbly decrepit chair thus:
...it stood in our bedroom, sagging to one side, while one arm listed in the other direction. Its faded brown-striped slipcover hung loosely, as if the chair had recently lost weight...
And so is the descriptive and atmospheric journey one takes as the reader follows Toth in her travels through coastal towns, and adventures such as a sheep dog competition, a badger family sighting, bird-watching, English gardens, English breakfasts, and more.
Like Toth, I revel in literary travel too and so on my last trip en-route to the Isle of Wight, I marched up lightly to the front door of Charles Dickens' birthplace in Portsmouth. Or of my own awe to visit Grasmere where William Wordsworth lived, worshipped, and died; or of the Lake District where Beatrix Potter wrote her books; and of course Stratford, Shakespeare's country as I call it, to visit Anne Hathaway's cottage.
I do feel that one needs to do the touristy things before one can venture to the paths less travelled. I love the countryside and I am enthralled by little trips to Leeds, Dover, and Canterbury whether to see a cathedral, the cliffs of Dover or a lovely castle rescued by an American heiress. I visited the UK three times but there is still so much more to see and do. This book is tugging at me again.
One thing to note is that this book is written in 1992; much has changed. I doubt one may find a "honesty policy" sign which reads - fix your own...leave money in a cup. Or whether Ms. Toth's quote of an old Sunday Times' description is more relevant of London's dire plight...dirty streets, immobilized traffic, a public transportation system close to collapse, outrageous housing costs, failing schools, rising crime rates...Or whether a signal man at a train station will be so willing today to show "the machinery housed beneath his signal station....where we studied an intricate array of levers, switches, and cables.."
I also marvel at my own ignorance having dined at the Spotted Dick on 81 Bloor St E, Toronto to learn in Toth's book that the spotted dick is a tender steamed pudding dotted with succulent currants and drizzled with a luxuriously rich and creamy vanilla custard. I also smile reading of the English' attempt at shaming those who had not volunteered during WW1 to hang a disk in the window to read NOONE AT HOME.
This book held my interest primarily due to Toth's writing and my own love of travel and reminiscences. Admittedly, I think it presents a romanticized version of England. Here is her lyrical report Up the Primose path:
Perhaps I love England most for its paths. They lead across pastures and cultivated fields, over stiles and through gates, into valleys and over hills, along the banks of rivers and canals, besides lakes and ponds, atop mountain ridges and seaside cliffs, past moors, meadows, bogs, and dunes, and through every English garden.
Take a trip down memory lane or indulge in some armchair travel. Three stars.