Taking a page from Jules Verne's classic tale, Monisha Rajesh embarked on an adventure around India in eighty trains. Indian trains carry over twenty million passengers daily, plowing through cities, crawling past villages, climbing up mountains, and skimming along coasts. Monisha hopes that her journeys across India will lift the veil on a country that had become a stranger to her.
Monisha Rajesh was born in King’s Lynn in Norfolk and grew up all over England. She read French at the University of Leeds and taught English at a high school in Cannes before studying postgraduate journalism at City University London. She has written for the London Evening Standard, The Guardian, TIME magazine and The New York Times.
An unimposing edifice of pure blandness. I don't think i've ever heard India described as 'bland' before, so here, i've done it. You're welcome, India.
How one can take that many trains in India and evince so little interest in Indian trains is utterly beyond me. There is an absolutely microscopic amount of background research, much less any kind of attempt at synthesis on the subject of the staggeringly glorious achievement of human civilization that is the Indian rail network. Instead there's a poorly written laundry list of a blog, featuring places rendered dull and people rendered boring, with the occasional repetitive mention that a train was duly caught. Sometimes there's a description of the upholstery. Sometimes a train is late, or missed, adding a touch of thoroughly quotidian excitement.
It doesn't help that the writer seems to have spent most of her odyssey in a rather miserable fug of self pity (at least, that's what made it onto the page.) There might be something to that - many adventures, after all, are ill-conceived - but if one cannot turn one's suffering into some revelation, pathos or at the very least a modicum of narrative interest, perhaps one should not write a book about it.
I quit when I hit the sentence that constitutes the most fundamentally meaninglessly uninsghtfully uninteresting piece of travel writing I've ever read in my entire life. Thus far, said I, and no more. The trains of India deserve better.
For the record, the sentence is "things in India always happen when you least expect them to."
What does that sphinxian utterance mean? What does that mean when you're waiting for a train?!?!?!
Edited to add, March 2018:
Having since reading this book and written this review done a number of things which I would not have expected at the time, but which its - now, rereading it - strident tone might foretell somewhat, to wit:
a. spent a little time in India, including a small amount of it on trains, b. completed an MA in transportation planning, including research on the organization and ethnography of public transportation in the global south.
I, a. find this terrible train travel book ever more baffling in its boringness, b. can only assume I have it to blame for my PhD proposal.
That's how they get you, innocent train-afficionado kids.
Even though the author herself seems to deride the terms, this book reads like poverty tourism/poverty porn. The first half of the book is simply filled with negative descriptions of everything. Things are too filthy, too smelly, too corrupt, too uncivilised, etc. etc. All the ordinary Indian passengers she meets are physically or culturally demeaned: they are either always snoring, spitting, gargling, sniggering, looking at her wrongly, touching her, squeezing her bottom, etc. And of course, they all have bad accents which are italicised for our benefit. The exceptions to this are the descendants of kings who are steeped in English culture and enamoured ambassadors of India who allow her to declare that she's English and not Indian.
On the other hand, the Brits and Aussies she runs into are all fun-loving, flawless, cardboard cut-outs with charming lilts and idiosyncrasies who prance and dance across the country. The exception to this is her travelling companion nicknamed Passepartout (apparently more Norwegian than British) who is constantly scoffed at for his anti-theistic views. He is of course apparently also smitten with li'l Miss Perfect, Rajesh.
This book was a bit of a revelation to me. I lost interest very early in which trains she was taking or the places she was visiting as Rajesh tends to gloss over such details in her "travelogue". As a reader, I really couldn't believe that something so crass could actually find a publisher and kept plodding on expecting a twist. The book seemed to be structured as if the narrator was an anti-heroine who would either get her just deserts or reform at some point. While it might have been unintentional, this did arrive about midway through:
Ah! But this scene provided the sort of catharsis I've seldom never felt while reading a travel tale. I cheered Passepartout on with all my mental might. While we are only treated to her side of the argument, I suspect that this was richly deserved. Frankly, as a marketing gimmick, the publisher should have contracted Passepartout to release his own book recounting his version of the events. IMHO, it would have been far more interesting. Unlike Rajesh, he appeared to interact with the local populace far more and came across as something of a gentle giant.
After the above incident, Rajesh spends most of her time bitching about Passepartout and whining and crying through India. During the second half of the book, she gets spiritual attending Vipasana courses where she, needless to say, appears to be the only one to actually complete the course while the rest of the participants were indisciplined idiots playing hooky. I was right in expecting her to "reform" at some point as she apparently comes to terms with all her negativity through meditation and acceptance. This, however, does not really come through in the tone of her later chapters.
As for the writing itself, some of Rajesh's metaphors are funny although she tends to be repetitious and goes overboard with them. The flow of the tale is creditably smooth. But the negativity that permeates through every chapter is unsettling and unwelcome. Even the chapter on the Lifeline Express which was interesting was again tinged with negativity, hints at some kind of romantic interlude with a doctor (not Indian, of course) along with further scoffing at poor Passepartout. The book would make for good reading for those who want to learn how not to write a travel book. It could also be used in conjunction with travel advisories against travelling to India or by travel agents who make a living out of poverty tourism.
In many ways, this review reads just like the book: negatives after negatives with a couple of backhanded compliments thrown in. I give it 1 star as I completed the book and another because of the Passepartout moment.
It is a refreshing account of a British woman of Indian origin in her late twenties seeking out the country she felt remotely belonged to, in a span of four months through 80 trains, covering a large part of India with her travel buddy who she has chosen to refer to as only Passepartout, the French word for ‘all-purpose’. From November to the end of her eventful journey, she discovers the Indian way of life through travels in mostly second and third class, and sometimes in luxurious trains as well.
The tone of the account is for the most parts charming, peppered with bits of history thrown in by her fellow travelers, punctuated by her own moods ranging from bliss and excitement to moments of frustration and agony. Despite not possessing the depth that has the power to turn it into a mesmerizing travelogue, in itself, as a memoir, it is interesting. However, the growing sardonic tone towards the latter half of her writing, mostly on account of her growing discomfort with Passepartout, renders the memoir bitter and unpleasant to read – not that travelogues/memoirs have to be necessarily gleeful and positive, but she lacks the art of writing insightfully from her experiences. Her disillusioning experiences, then, cease to seem like unfortunate events and descend into whining and ceaseless burnouts.
This account holds interest mainly for the reason that there is a lack of similar travelogues better than this. Its lone status lends it an air of excitement. However, for those having read far better travel pieces, there is a significant lack of many essential elements that raise a personal travel memoir into an appealing journey across an unknown land. For instance, the humor in the book depends mainly on her own mood swings, rather than on a calm reflection of events that have passed more than a year before the book was out. The bitterness stings heavily, since it is more of a personal spat with a fellow traveler than any real substantial reason – the minor disagreement was blown out of proportion to vent her own distaste for a differing opinion.
Passepartout has been given a one-dimensional role in the whole book – that of an intolerant brute victimizing the author and ruining her journey. It is more of an injustice to include only one dimension of a person you travel with for almost three-fourths of the journey and yet have barely anything good to say about. He comes into the picture only when she has an unhappy incident with him to describe, or has been asked for forgiveness. Rest of the time, he is almost invisible.
Her travels are more of visiting places and observation of needless details, like Monaco wrappers or feeding a puppy Marie Lite biscuits than building a vivid picture of the places. Customs and traditions are described unevenly (heavily in some places, negligibly in others) – which leaves a reader dissatisfied. The lack of detail – in appearance of people, differences between places, people and local food, amongst others in contrast with immense detailing of her own moods and spats leaves much to be desired.
Despite its obvious flaws, it is not that bad, just an okay read, considering the novelty of the idea – her journey must have been incredible, but it does not come out effectively in the book. And yet, it is recommended for people who prefer light travel writing bereft of heavy observations on history, politics, economics and introspection. It is more a fun read, and would have been even more charming and truly engaging if she had managed to temper the incisive sarcasm and infectious bad-temper keeping in mind the nature of the book.
In any case, it is far more entertaining and warm than Theroux's The Great Railway Bazaar, as he travels through India (and many more countries) on trains, like Miss Monisha.
There are books that start very well and have a disappointing end, and books that are disappointing from the first pages and turn out a bit better towards the end. Around India in 80 trains belongs to the second group: I didn't liked it that much from the very beginning but in the second part there are some interesting parts. Sadly it wasn't enough to give this book a higher rating because I didn't like it for many reasons: - there aren't detailed descriptions of anything but only hints. The descriptions of the people and places are too short and the author ends stories in a too abrupt way or she goes from one event to another without explaining how it happened. Characters come and disappear but she talks about them as if she knows them so I couldn't understand where in the story they already had been mentioned. I had to read some pages twice because I thought I had missed something, only to find out that it wasn't my fault. - the author seems selfish, egocentric and full of herself. Every event is good to talk about herself. For example, her travel companion is nicknamed Passepartout and when she talks about him it's only to show how clever and open minded she is. He is always in the background or non existent and she uses him only to talk about herself. I also find it very disrespectful to don't call him by his name seen that it's also thanks to him that she could start this journey. As a woman she was scared to travel by her own and so she needed a male companion to feel save. Well, Passepartout is a Norwegian photographer, Harald Haugan. - the author is too exaggerated in her descriptions of India's life. I'm glad I've read this book as a group-read in the group "Indian Readers" where members are Indians living in India and they helped me a lot to understand what was true about the descriptions and what was exaggerated. Well, a lot of things are exaggerated and sadly in a negative way. Sometimes the author also adds wrong informations as if she hasn't deepened a topic. I had also the feeling that she feels superior to resident Indians because she is born and raised in England. - the writing. There was also some humour but I missed it because English is not my native language though I've read The Tale of Hodja Nasreddin: Disturber of the Peace and Waiting for Gertrude: A Graveyard Gothic and was able to catch the humour so perhaps it isn't only my fault if I wasn't able to laugh.
There were just a couple of interesting chapters: the one about the The Lifeline Express, the one about the Osho Ashram (till now I've heard only bad things about it and the author confirmed them) and the Vipassana meditation. Here and there were some interesting things but not enough to close an eye on the bad parts of the books.
It isn't a book to throw away but it could have been much better. Perhaps people who have been in India or Indians will enjoy it much more because they know what is true and which parts are exaggerated.
I thought it would be another of those books written by Indians who had settled abroad about oh-how-lovely-the-people-are, and oh-how dirty-everything-is, plus some culture orgasms and photographs thrown in.
It is nothing of the sort.
It is a lovely book, written with a keen eye for the romantic and off-key, and a quite charming sense of humor. The author will have you chuckling in quite a few places.
Her tone was sometimes a bit disagreeable, but that's alright. Different people see the word in different ways and that's totally fine.
It is a travel book, of course, but it also is an ode to the Indian Railways. The author travels through the country with all of India - the peasant, the daily wage labourer, the student, the housewife, the businessman, the tourist and paints to us a beautiful picture of my country's greatest leveller.
I'm so jealous she was able to do this. I really am.
The author writes with a sparkling honesty, a refreshing departure from contemporary travel writing. As she travels with us, she bares her deepest fears, and lets on more about her than she needs to. She chooses to do so, though, which gives the book a soul. It isn't just a description of things she sees, we also know how she feels, and that is what makes this book quite remarkable.
I loved it, it was 250+ pages of pure pleasure.
Take this ride on India's trains. You won't regret it.
OK first things first. I am awesomatic of the aaromale, because finished book on the day I started. Prior Warning This is NOT a book on Trains, yes it involves trains. This is NOT a book on travel, yes it involves travel. Is basically a book by author trying to reconnect herself to India through trains. Hi, OK I know I lost you there. Book picks up pace in the last round of chapters when it actually makes sense and we are allowed to get what the author wants to say about India. Rest is like opinions which go "Indians be like....etc" which I'm tired of anyways. I am a very kind fellow. So giving two stars for. 1. Indiana Jones reference 2. Books starts in Chennai and finishes there. That's all. OK bye.
This is my first travelogue and also officially my first un-finished book too! This was a free kindle copy i downloaded from Amazon and was actually quite excited to read it as well, but it turned out wrong way up. Usually I try not to leave any book half finished or unread for long time but seriously this authors narration was bit too cliché to read. Somehow her narration sounded frustrating and whiny at the same time, oh..and also the same old 'NRIs-ranting-on-India-and-Indians-sarcastically' really, I have seen and heard enough of all that to continue. Thus, I left it mid way…may be to continue later or may be not.
What a lovely idea for a book! I started reading it with great enthusiasm, but I must say I soon started feeling underwhelmed. What a great opportunity that has been underutilized. The trains, the places one visits, the people, all the possibilities -- instead in the bulk of the book the author is busy trying to be clever or dishing our truisms about India. There are some well-written and interesting parts, but overall it's just passable.
The book is a good read, especially if you like travelling by trains. But it is not some book, that you will think about once you are done. There are no moments in the book that you would want to experience for yourself. This book could have been written in a much better way. The writing style of the author becomes predictable and it is only the journeys that keep you hooked. Memoirs should be narrated in a way, that the reader knows it was a memorable trip for you and writing a book on the same was secondary.
It seemed the exact opposite in this case. You could see the travelling was done primarily to write the book which somehow took away the joy that one would have felt while reading such a book. It seemed a little artificial.
Also, trips should be taken with like-minded people and the relationship between Monisha and her fellow traveler and photographer, Passepartout, was unsettling from the start. The way it deteriorates in the second half of the book leaves you with an unpleasant taste.
Would have rated 2 stars if not for the love of train travelling. The book did increase my knowledge about Indian Railways. The book can be read only because of lack of another book on similar lines.
Having said all this, It is not that I did not like the book, it's just that I expected a lot more and hence was slightly disappointed.
I am so glad that I came upon this book. It was suggested to me by some IR friend and I ordered it via flipkart on May 28, the day on which flipkart gave 50% discount to many best sellers(this fact too, known via an IR thread). I only wish I had ordered more books. This is basically non-fictional travellogue of India, wherein Monisha, a British Indian travels the length and breadth of India in 80 trains. It was funny, sarcastic, amazing and true to the core. Initially I felt she was belittling India, but then I realized its because of love for India, rather otherwise- the way we tirade against our near and dear ones hoping that they will change for the better. I liked Passeportout (hope the spellling is correct) and googled his true name and went through his photography website. And after reading another IR friend's review about this book, came to know that Monisha has a blog chocful of pictures from this journey, and went through her blog in between. I would recommend this book to all who love India and want to know more about India and its ways.
A great concept , but poorly executed , at least in prose. She had taken a great effort to go through this ordeal/experience . However, the book was a major let down. Maybe I had high expectations. Or maybe the travelogue was more of website based , where people tend to scan the webpage for photographs and some information. But as a book, it fails to satisfy, both as source of information or story.
Liked the book for the cover design and the theme. Apart from that 'Around india in 80 trains' is a mere disappointment. Definitely the Indian railways and people are " much much" better than how the author has tried to depicit.
I grabbed this book as soon as I saw it on display at a book store. I travel by train every weekend back home from Karwar and so Railways have a special place in my life.And so I decided to embark on a journey with Monisha Rajesh and her passportout! The first half of the journey was not that exciting. The author constantly tries to be witty bombarding with missiles of comparative descriptions rather than putting it in a better way. While there were some which was funny, most of them gave me facepalms. And I struggled to stay with her on the journey. The second half was a stark contrast. The narration came from the bottom of the heart and were described more beautifully and in a simple way. This was the part that I enjoyed a lot and it made me want to go on a long distance train travel (I might do one shortly). All in all it was not a blockbuster book. But it was not a bad one either. 2.5 stars for this one! And one good thing that i learnt from this book was the full form of TTE (train ticket examiner) :P (i checked out her blog and the pics from the journey. i must say, one should read the book while looking at the pics. It gives a better idea about her journey.) And so i will give this one 3 Stars!!
I felt like I had to slog through it. Sounded like it would be interesting having been to India and loving long train rides but it just was not that interesting to read. I like when I am reading to hit that point where I can't wait to get back to my book, that never came. It was more of looking at my Kindle seeing I was 60, 70, 80% in and thinking I might as well finish it.
Monisha Rajesh's family had moved over from India a while ago, but in 1991 they decided that they wanted to move back. Heading to Madras, they lasted two years before concluding they preferred the cold climate of the UK over rats and severed body parts. Twenty years later, she has the urge to return once again to India, but how to see it. An idea forms based on Jules Verne's classic Around the world in 80 Days and she starts researching the railways of India hoping to find 80 separate train journey's that would take her around the country and help her to re-discover it. But first, she needed a companion for her adventure. Fortunately, she knew a photographer who had some spare time and he agreed to come with her.
Her journey would take her across India from top to bottom, and right into the far reaches of the country. She passes through well-known cities like Mumbai and Delhi to places that are only known to the locals. Each journey was different and a challenge to all the senses from the sleekest sleeper trains to the carriages where she shared space with the mass of humanity each on their own personal journey. Herr companion, Passepartout, though turned out to be a radical atheist who was continually challenged and assaulted by the cacophony of sights and sounds in this deeply devout country.
A romantic evening haze hung over the treetops that sped past. I soon realised that this was a layer of filth on the window…
I thought that this was a really enjoyable account of a series of trip backwards and forwards around the subcontinent of India. Rajesh conveys the character of the country really well from the people that she meets on the trains as well as being able to draw on her dual cultural identity to understand the context of what she is seeing. Mixed with this is a blend of historical and personal anecdotes and written in a warm and conversational style. It is also a warning to choose your travelling companions wisely too…
The title of this book seemed interesting enough to pick it up and frankly I wanted to read what the author had to tell about India and her extensive railway system.
To be frank,I was completely disappointed. The writing was elementary and there were too many jibes and pokes and the grammar was bearable at most. This book could have been excellent in the genre of travel literature but sadly it is a whiney bland narration of the author about her journey in India by 80 different trains. There is a lot of complaining throughout the book by the author about almost everything right from the trains till the people traveling with her.
It can be seen clearly that minimum or no research has been done with regards to this book. It’s mostly poverty that is depicted throughout the book and one who has never travelled to India or heard of India might think that is true. Her descriptions are bland and in my opinion India is anything but “bland”.
I find it hard to believe that the railways are that worse as depicted by her. I have travelled by trains frequently and I should say that the railways have definitely improved. The character Passepartout flits in and out of the narrative and it is hard to get a grip of his character. We never really find out what he is like throughout the book. There is a fight between the author and him in the middle of the book and she goes off on her own.
One thing that irked me was the way she described the Indians traveling with her in the trains and the foreigners who were traveling with her in the luxury trains. Indians were depicted to be indisciplined,loud and nosy whereas the foreigners who travelled in the luxury trains were portrayed to be perfect caricatures of tourists. I find it surprising that almost all the Indians she met on the trains were selfish,unhelpful and ungracious except for a couple of people including an ambassador and a few others.
The way she described hunting for hotels to stay was a bit unbelievable. At last the book ends in the cliched way of finding spirituality in India where the author prides upon herself to complete the Vipasana course depicting the others in the course like complete idiots. I was happy to put down this book at the end. Somehow I raced to complete this book. I wish she had elaborated more on the places she saw,local cuisine,interaction with locals,places of visit instead of constantly complaining about how poverty stricken people were and constant jibes at the sizes of Indians aboard the trains.
This book was such a waste of my time and I was misled by the title. The only saving grace is the excellent cover design.One star for the cover design.
I know, it’s not a popular opinion and I get it. To people who’ve grown up in india, this book may comes across as exaggerated. Having grown up abroad myself, I moved to India at age 6. I was heavily accented with a weak immune system and no knowledge of Bollywood. I also had the tendency to politely ask for things and I soon learnt that to survive here, you gotta make a grab for what you want - whether a seat on a bus, a packet of wafers or the only functional swing in a park. As someone who was treated differently, I completely related to this book. Monisha describes Mumbai Local train travel perfectly and having interned with the Impact India Foundation, her account of the Lifeline Express is also on point. Monisha Rajesh is an unapologetic wry writer and I understand that most people love romanticism. This book is far from that. Neither is it a travelogue delving into the rich history of the places she visits. It’s an honest firsthand account of her experience travelling around India.
When i started reading this title - especially for the first 100 pages or so - the irritation that was felt for the author's radar like eye for everything negative and her constant complaining made me so disappointed that i thought i will abandon the prospect of completing the book. Since the author had the unique opportunity to write about so unique a travel venture, the magnitude of disappointment was large because for the first few chapters there was nothing positive or charming. But i am really happy to say as an avid lover of travelogues that after those initial few chapters the author has done a commendable job of making the later part of the book interesting as well as connecting nicely with the reader. As the constant complaining stops the book starts to have its charming moments.
Hats off to the author for undertaking such an adventurous journey.
I sincerely wish this journey & the resulting book project were undertaken by someone else who isn't narrow - minded, prejudiced & a much better writer & narrator.
The author is a UK born NRI who decides to cover the length & breadth of India in 80 trains. The challenge is that she hasn't been in India much, it's practically a foreign land for her. Heck, such a trip would be quite a new experience for even resident Indians because the country is big & diverse enough to offer lots of novelty. And trains are the lifeline of India, connecting its remotest, poorest, most undeveloped populaces. And any trip which brings together people from diverse regions, cultures & background; for hours & even days, is bound to give rise to memorable interactions & experiences. Add to that, the geographical diversity itself, because no other mode of transportation can cover such terrestrial variations in a single trip.
And yet, instead of writing a beautiful narrative out of these, the writer gives an unsatisfactory description of the journey, further spoiling it with her own prejudices, stereotypes, consistent complaints about India & Indians, and her weird intermittent spats with her co-traveler.
Nevertheless, if Rajesh is the anti - heroine of this book, the main protagonists are the 80 trains featured. Notable among them are: the 1)Mandovi Express of the scenic Konkan Railways, 2) the luxurious Indian Maharaja - Deccan Odyssey 3,4) the Himalayan Queen & Darjeeling Himalayan toy trains 5) another luxurios Golden Chariot train 6) Lifeline Express (a hospital train), besides the well known & popular Rajdhani & Shatabdi expresses.
Train journeys are so romantic, that despite being annoyed by the writer, this book made me nostalgic & left me yearning for train journeys.
PS: Pick up a better book on Indian train journeys
Monisha Rajesh's journey on 80 Indian trains ranging from Sleeper Class coaches to Luxury Trains, a Hospital on Wheels to Mumbai's sub-urban lifeline locomotives, is well documented here. Throughout the book, the author throws in witty Western comparisons to Indian normalcy - good enough to amuse an Indian reader, while not making it look offensive. The book starts off on an exciting note but becomes ridiculously dull in the middle. The latter third of the book kept me engaged. Much like the trains, the writing is fast paced - a bit too fast for my comfort, I must say. While elaboration is not very apt in a travelogue spanning 240 pages, when the travel itself spanned 40,000 plus kilometers, the downfall of the book lies just there. Neither the train journeys or the places the author visits are satisfactorily decorated, which is a tad saddening.
The most trivial of practices, which us Indians take for granted, are scanned effectively in an amusive light. The bits of trivia sprinkled here and there add to the charm. It's a good read, but could have been much better.
Also, for a lover of trains, the book's cover is an absolute delight!
P.S - I don't know how the author missed out on travelling to Varanasi.
At first glance this book is funny and witty. It is a journey of a girl travelling across India taking 80 trains. To begin with I must say it is indeed a very brave attempt and she has actually done it beautifully, covering all corners of the country. The best thing is after finishing the book you get that good positive feeling that all the problems in life can be dealt with determination and faith. I like the book for lots of things - first the journey, secondly the detailed and in-depth look into India this book provides, thirdly her resolve to just keep moving ahead.
Two stars because while I really liked the premise--travelling around India on trains, and I'm a huge train fan myself--I thought her descriptions of India and Indians were a bit heavy handed with cliches, the familiar trap for foreigners writing about India, though the author is of Indian origin, she identifies as British. ("Indians are so-and-so" "Indian travellers like such-and-such.") It made me quite impatient, I wanted to say, "Get on with it already!" However, for those wanting more reads about travelling in India via trains, it's an informative read. So there's that.
This book has been disappointing for me - I picked it up expecting to experience places and people from across India. The book somehow does not connect. None of the characters seem to stay on with you, as the author hurtles from place to place. A minor gripe I am sure - I would have so loved a map. But a toast, however, to the spirit of the journey.
I really wanted to like this book, but that was not the case. here is what I learned; Indian people can be quirky, pushy, friendly, rude.[return]Indian trains are crowded.[return]India is a big religious country.[return]The authors travel partner wanted to have sex with her and when that failed, he became an ass.[return]The author should stick to writing magazine stories, not a whole book.
I finished this book when I was travelling in India, but by flights. And the book made me feel nostalgic about train rides... Though I haven't done a lot of them growing up.
I was skeptical and scared this might be another of those books written by an Indian from another country mocking all things Indian, showcasing the sorry state in this country, but was super glad about the tone in this book. It is very as a matter of fact, without judgement, talking about the author's experiences with the world's largest employer. All things Indian, our quirks included are touched upon, and mentioned in a narrative that probably is meant to be factual, and this, I appreciated.
I also liked how the book is about train travel only and how the author didn't delve into the details and review of the places she visited, except the basic introduction.
The writing, given the small print might feel drone-ish at first, but if you persist, you'll appreciate the style of writing especially since the literature is really good.
Read this book for a trip across our beautiful country in your mind, and for the yearning of travel for your soul
An amazing journey but it just seemed to me to be focused on the wrong aspects of travelling. I wanted to learn a lot more about the places she was visiting and the people she was meeting but the focus was more on the challenges. This is understandable but not exactly escapism!