Drawing on the travellers' own unique and colourful accounts, from Livingstone and Stanley in Africa, Darwin aboard the Beagle and Richard Francis Burton on the road to Mecca to less well-known but equally intrepid explorers, this book looks at travel during the time of the British Empire.
Interesting in its own right and thought-provoking in the context of the history of tourism and also the history of adventure fiction. As you might expect, it quotes extensively from Victorian travel writers, so if you decide to read it you're going to have to brace yourself for a range of period-typical racism from "breathtakingly racist even for the time" to "surprisingly mild racism?"
I saw this in a charity shop, and the title, cover and premise looked like it was going to be much, much better than it was. It wasn't terrible, as any book entirely populated by mad Victorians traveling the globe in various degrees of mufti, and with various degrees of success wouldn't be. The thing is, with that brief it should be hilarious, but it's sadly not. In fact it's a bit boring and waffle-y, and it isn't helped by Murray's occasionally quoting Bruce Chatwin who, oh, he's also written a biog of.
It needs less Bruce Chatwin, fewer chapters and more stories like Missionary James Woods who regales his readers how the Pacific Islanders are in awe of him because of his Faith, shortly before they club him to death in the sea and eat him. It needed much more of that sort of thing.
Three stars only for the amount of work that went into it. The book jacket is very misleading as to the contents. I was expecting less summary, less biography, more joy, more eccentricity.
Sadly I lost faith in the accuracy of the dates of events after the first chapter about Bird, which says that she got married to the same man in two very different years. This left me wondering as to how accurate other parts of the book were.
Apart from that, the book was enjoyable and interesting. The conclusion in particular was thought-provoking, which was an unexpected joy.