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Où vont les vents sauvages
As a six-year-old child, Nick Hunt was almost carried away in a gust from the Great Storm of 1987. Almost thirty years later he set off in search of the legendary winds of Europe; from the Helm, to the Bora, the Foehn and the Mistral.
Where the Wild Winds Are is Nick Hunt's story of following the wind from the fells of Cumbria to the Alps, the Rhone to the Adriatic coast, to explore how these unseen powers affect the countries and cultures of Europe, and to map a new type of journey across the continent. From the author of the Dolman Prize-shortlisted Walking the Woods and the Water.
Where the Wild Winds Are is Nick Hunt's story of following the wind from the fells of Cumbria to the Alps, the Rhone to the Adriatic coast, to explore how these unseen powers affect the countries and cultures of Europe, and to map a new type of journey across the continent. From the author of the Dolman Prize-shortlisted Walking the Woods and the Water.
250 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2017
74 people are currently reading
1121 people want to read
About the author
Nick Hunt
24 books104 followersNick Hunt has walked and written across much of Europe. His first book 'Walking the Woods and the Water' (Nicholas Brealey, 2014) was a finalist for the Stanford Dolman Travel Book of the Year. He also works as a contributor and editor for the Dark Mountain Project.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 92 reviews
October 25, 2018
Fantastic study of the wind. I learned a ton and it made me think about the wind in ways I had never expected. The conversational style made it nice to read in the afternoons with a cup of tea. Will write more someday in the future :)
February 25, 2021
This is a book that can be useful for ambitious hikers planning to “walk Europe’s winds from the Pennines to Provence,” but is also a delight for those who are satisfied with a vicarious appreciation.
The book begins with the Helm and ends with the Mistral. Between those descriptions and adventures are the Bora and the Foehn. Also mentioned are the Halny, Kosava, Meltemi, Gregale, Sirocco, Tramontana and Levanter: Europe’s great wild winds.
Hunt intersperses his personal experiences with people, places and things with relevant bits of history and, of course, science. It was a pleasing mix that helped avoid the feeling of repetition that was inherent in his stated mission. He quotes extensively from writers and poets who have encountered these winds as well as showing a fine use of metaphor when the occasion arises. Science and the Arts reinforce each other with observations of these winds' physiological and psychological effects. Headaches and other aches as well as anxiety, despair, fear and mind/body phenomena are attributed to these profound meteorological creations.
This doesn’t mean that he ignores the political world. When he was hiking Europe was experiencing the rise of refugees from North Africa and the Middle East. Hunt notes some of the opinions he encounters and muses: “I felt extremely weary. It was a sadly familiar sensation: the moment of realisation that someone who has treated you kindly, and welcomed you warly into their home, possesses views that are ignorant, uncharitable and callous.”
I am never going to structure my hikes around such phenomena, but Hunt conveys an enthusiasm that is palpable for those of us who are satisfied being armchair adventurers.
“It was in my ears, but it wasn’t blowing; nor was it moaning, whistling, howling, or any of the other words usually used to capture wind. It was less a sound than a sensation, a nameless energetic THING that erased the line between hearing and feeling; for the first time in my life, I understood sound as a physical force. It was in my lungs, under my skin. Like a religious maniac, I roared my appreciation.”
The book begins with the Helm and ends with the Mistral. Between those descriptions and adventures are the Bora and the Foehn. Also mentioned are the Halny, Kosava, Meltemi, Gregale, Sirocco, Tramontana and Levanter: Europe’s great wild winds.
Hunt intersperses his personal experiences with people, places and things with relevant bits of history and, of course, science. It was a pleasing mix that helped avoid the feeling of repetition that was inherent in his stated mission. He quotes extensively from writers and poets who have encountered these winds as well as showing a fine use of metaphor when the occasion arises. Science and the Arts reinforce each other with observations of these winds' physiological and psychological effects. Headaches and other aches as well as anxiety, despair, fear and mind/body phenomena are attributed to these profound meteorological creations.
This doesn’t mean that he ignores the political world. When he was hiking Europe was experiencing the rise of refugees from North Africa and the Middle East. Hunt notes some of the opinions he encounters and muses: “I felt extremely weary. It was a sadly familiar sensation: the moment of realisation that someone who has treated you kindly, and welcomed you warly into their home, possesses views that are ignorant, uncharitable and callous.”
I am never going to structure my hikes around such phenomena, but Hunt conveys an enthusiasm that is palpable for those of us who are satisfied being armchair adventurers.
“It was in my ears, but it wasn’t blowing; nor was it moaning, whistling, howling, or any of the other words usually used to capture wind. It was less a sound than a sensation, a nameless energetic THING that erased the line between hearing and feeling; for the first time in my life, I understood sound as a physical force. It was in my lungs, under my skin. Like a religious maniac, I roared my appreciation.”
December 22, 2017
Living on the south coast we have got used to the wind now. It blows across the Atlantic, up the channel and can vary from a pleasant breeze to a howling gale. Whilst it is a constant feature of life in Dorset, there are a lot of winds around the world that are such a part of the landscape that they have gained a certain amount of notoriety and their own name. Most have heard of the Mistral, the wind that scours the French Provencal landscape as it sweeps down to the Mediterranean, but around Europe that have evocative names such as Sirocco, the Levanter and the Meltemi.
These extremely strong winds, in some cases reaching 200mph, that are caused by a unique combination of natural phenomena; the makeup of the landscape allows a build-up of atmospheric pressure in the high regions that at certain points break free and sweep across a landscape causing damage to property, trees affecting the local population and playing a fundamental part of the myths and legends that make up the culture.
We even have our own named wind that blows across the Pennines called the Helm and it is here that Nick Hunt begins his walks across the European landscapes seeking these winds. Local give him pointers as to where to walk and the atmospheric details to look for so he can experience it for himself. Next is the Bora; this is a wind that blows from Trieste across Slovenia and down the Croatian coast. He climbs the Alps in search of the Fohen, a wind that can blow north and south through the Alps. His final wind is the famous Mistral, walking towards the coast with the wind behind him along an ancient pilgrimage path.
I really liked this original and interesting book from Nick Hunt, like his first book Walking the Woods and the Water he has a refreshing way of writing about the places he is walking through and the people he encounters on his way. The writing is interesting and he has managed to successfully mix the historical with the metrological whilst still maintaining his self-depreciating humour. It is another really good book from Nick, but if there was one tiny flaw, I would have liked to have heard about the other winds shown on the map at the beginning. I am hoping that is for another book.
These extremely strong winds, in some cases reaching 200mph, that are caused by a unique combination of natural phenomena; the makeup of the landscape allows a build-up of atmospheric pressure in the high regions that at certain points break free and sweep across a landscape causing damage to property, trees affecting the local population and playing a fundamental part of the myths and legends that make up the culture.
We even have our own named wind that blows across the Pennines called the Helm and it is here that Nick Hunt begins his walks across the European landscapes seeking these winds. Local give him pointers as to where to walk and the atmospheric details to look for so he can experience it for himself. Next is the Bora; this is a wind that blows from Trieste across Slovenia and down the Croatian coast. He climbs the Alps in search of the Fohen, a wind that can blow north and south through the Alps. His final wind is the famous Mistral, walking towards the coast with the wind behind him along an ancient pilgrimage path.
I really liked this original and interesting book from Nick Hunt, like his first book Walking the Woods and the Water he has a refreshing way of writing about the places he is walking through and the people he encounters on his way. The writing is interesting and he has managed to successfully mix the historical with the metrological whilst still maintaining his self-depreciating humour. It is another really good book from Nick, but if there was one tiny flaw, I would have liked to have heard about the other winds shown on the map at the beginning. I am hoping that is for another book.
May 31, 2019
Weather fascinates me, and therefore when I spotted Nick Hunt's Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe's Winds from the Pennines to Provence in Fopp, I did not hesitate before picking up a copy. This non-fiction work was shortlisted for the Edward Stanford Travel Awards in 2018, and chosen as a book of the year by The Financial Times, the Daily Telegraph, and The Spectator respectively. Amy Liptrot observes that the book is 'packed with wonder', and Jan Morris concurs, writing that it is 'full to the brim with learning, entertainment, description, scientific fact and conjectural fiction. It is travel writing in excess.'
In Where the Wild Winds Are, Hunt sets out to follow four of Europe's prevalent named winds. He begins in Cumbria with the Helm, the only named wind in Britain, before travelling to Croatia, Slovenia, and Italy to find the Bora which blows through all three countries, causing havoc for residents. Hunt then searches for the 'snow-eating' Foehn in Switzerland's alpine valleys, and the Mistral in the South of France, which 'animated and tormented Vincent Van Gogh.' Soon, Hunt 'finds himself borne along by the very forces he is pursuing, through rain, blizzards, howling gales, and back through time itself, for where the wild winds are, there are also myths and legends, history and hearsay, sacrifice and superstition...'.
In his prologue, which is entitled 'Blown Away', Hunt reflects on his experience of the Great Storm which hit Britain in 1987. Just a child at the time, he remembers how he was almost swept away by a gust of wind. At this point, his obsession with one of our most unpredictable types of weather began. Although he goes on to say that he did not take up a career in meteorology, or anything of the sort, what he did become 'was someone with an urge to travel, and especially to travel by walking, which allows you to follow paths not dictated by road or rail, paths not marked on any map, or to follow no path at all; to wander and to wonder as freely as your feet can take you. But every journey has a logic, even if it's an invisible one. All travelling, I came to understand, is an act of following something: whether a coastline, an ancient migration, a trade route, a border or someone else's footsteps.'
Hunt then recollects the moment at which he came across a map of Europe's winds, which linked regions in a way he had not previously considered. He writes: 'The fact that these invisible powers had names, rather than simply compass directions that described where they were from, gave them a sense of majesty, even of personality. They sounded like characters I could meet. These swooping, plunging arrows suggested routes I might follow, trails that had not been walked before. As soon as I saw that map I knew: I would follow the winds.' Thus, his quest to follow four winds - sometimes successfully, and sometimes not so - ensued.
Hunt chose to locate four winds as 'a nod to the proverbial four winds and the four points of the compass.' The book has consequently been split into four corresponding sections, each of which contains a map of his route. He also lets us, the readers, know about the daunting elements of the task which he set himself: 'It was clear that to follow the wind meant following uncertainty, allowing myself to be carried along by the unknown and the informed, the guessed-at and the half-imagined. Chasing the invisible was in many ways a quixotic quest, which appealed to my romantic side...'.
Hunt's writing oscillates between matter-of-fact and descriptive. When in Croatia, he writes, for instance: 'After climbing for an hour I reached a layer of dense cloud, which brought about the sensation of entering a different realm. I waded upward through submarine light, condensation slapping on the wet forest floor like rain, with the muscular trunks of beech trees looming through saturated air. Deciduous trees gave way to pines. Here and there blobs of snow lay like stranded jellyfish.' Of one of the winds which he does locate, he comments: 'It was in my ears, but it wasn't blowing; nor was it moaning, whistling, howling, or any of the other words usually used to capture wind. It was less a sound than a sensation, a nameless energetic thing that erased the line between hearing and feeling; for the first time in my life, I understood sound as a physical force. It was in my lungs, under my skin.'
Before picking up Where the Wild Winds Are, I had not encountered a travel book like it. Although it took a little while to really get into, I found myself fascinated by the mixture of elements which Hunt has woven in, from the history of forecasting the weather and the tools which the process entailed, to the quirky and eccentric characters whom he met along the way. There is a definite human perspective which has been considered, strengthened because Hunt is always keen to ask those he meets how they feel about the wind, and how it affects their day to day lives.
Where the Wild Winds Are is not as focused upon the weather as I expected it would be. Whilst Hunt's aim is to follow the four named winds, he does so in a manner which is largely unscientific. He discusses many things as he goes about his travels, from the fall of Yugoslavia and historic battles in Britain, to immigration, and its perceptions. The title, too, is sometimes a little misleading. Whilst Hunt does make some of his journeys on foot, he often relies on public transport to get him quickly from one place to another if rumours of the wind in question being in a particular location have reached him.
Where the Wild Winds Are is both an interesting read and a gentle one. I enjoyed Hunt's prose, which is often quite evocative. The author does go off on tangents from time to time, which I did not find overly compelling, but on the whole, the book is accessible and relatively easy to get into. I would recommend it if you enjoy travel writing and are looking for something a little different to sample.
In Where the Wild Winds Are, Hunt sets out to follow four of Europe's prevalent named winds. He begins in Cumbria with the Helm, the only named wind in Britain, before travelling to Croatia, Slovenia, and Italy to find the Bora which blows through all three countries, causing havoc for residents. Hunt then searches for the 'snow-eating' Foehn in Switzerland's alpine valleys, and the Mistral in the South of France, which 'animated and tormented Vincent Van Gogh.' Soon, Hunt 'finds himself borne along by the very forces he is pursuing, through rain, blizzards, howling gales, and back through time itself, for where the wild winds are, there are also myths and legends, history and hearsay, sacrifice and superstition...'.
In his prologue, which is entitled 'Blown Away', Hunt reflects on his experience of the Great Storm which hit Britain in 1987. Just a child at the time, he remembers how he was almost swept away by a gust of wind. At this point, his obsession with one of our most unpredictable types of weather began. Although he goes on to say that he did not take up a career in meteorology, or anything of the sort, what he did become 'was someone with an urge to travel, and especially to travel by walking, which allows you to follow paths not dictated by road or rail, paths not marked on any map, or to follow no path at all; to wander and to wonder as freely as your feet can take you. But every journey has a logic, even if it's an invisible one. All travelling, I came to understand, is an act of following something: whether a coastline, an ancient migration, a trade route, a border or someone else's footsteps.'
Hunt then recollects the moment at which he came across a map of Europe's winds, which linked regions in a way he had not previously considered. He writes: 'The fact that these invisible powers had names, rather than simply compass directions that described where they were from, gave them a sense of majesty, even of personality. They sounded like characters I could meet. These swooping, plunging arrows suggested routes I might follow, trails that had not been walked before. As soon as I saw that map I knew: I would follow the winds.' Thus, his quest to follow four winds - sometimes successfully, and sometimes not so - ensued.
Hunt chose to locate four winds as 'a nod to the proverbial four winds and the four points of the compass.' The book has consequently been split into four corresponding sections, each of which contains a map of his route. He also lets us, the readers, know about the daunting elements of the task which he set himself: 'It was clear that to follow the wind meant following uncertainty, allowing myself to be carried along by the unknown and the informed, the guessed-at and the half-imagined. Chasing the invisible was in many ways a quixotic quest, which appealed to my romantic side...'.
Hunt's writing oscillates between matter-of-fact and descriptive. When in Croatia, he writes, for instance: 'After climbing for an hour I reached a layer of dense cloud, which brought about the sensation of entering a different realm. I waded upward through submarine light, condensation slapping on the wet forest floor like rain, with the muscular trunks of beech trees looming through saturated air. Deciduous trees gave way to pines. Here and there blobs of snow lay like stranded jellyfish.' Of one of the winds which he does locate, he comments: 'It was in my ears, but it wasn't blowing; nor was it moaning, whistling, howling, or any of the other words usually used to capture wind. It was less a sound than a sensation, a nameless energetic thing that erased the line between hearing and feeling; for the first time in my life, I understood sound as a physical force. It was in my lungs, under my skin.'
Before picking up Where the Wild Winds Are, I had not encountered a travel book like it. Although it took a little while to really get into, I found myself fascinated by the mixture of elements which Hunt has woven in, from the history of forecasting the weather and the tools which the process entailed, to the quirky and eccentric characters whom he met along the way. There is a definite human perspective which has been considered, strengthened because Hunt is always keen to ask those he meets how they feel about the wind, and how it affects their day to day lives.
Where the Wild Winds Are is not as focused upon the weather as I expected it would be. Whilst Hunt's aim is to follow the four named winds, he does so in a manner which is largely unscientific. He discusses many things as he goes about his travels, from the fall of Yugoslavia and historic battles in Britain, to immigration, and its perceptions. The title, too, is sometimes a little misleading. Whilst Hunt does make some of his journeys on foot, he often relies on public transport to get him quickly from one place to another if rumours of the wind in question being in a particular location have reached him.
Where the Wild Winds Are is both an interesting read and a gentle one. I enjoyed Hunt's prose, which is often quite evocative. The author does go off on tangents from time to time, which I did not find overly compelling, but on the whole, the book is accessible and relatively easy to get into. I would recommend it if you enjoy travel writing and are looking for something a little different to sample.
August 17, 2018
08/08
Avrebbe tutte le caratteristiche per piacermi un casino invece mi sto un po' annoiando. Sarà il caldo...
17/08
CI ho messo un casino a finirlo, arrampicandomi annoiata per lunghi tratti, scendendo allegramente per pagine vivaci e piacevoli, camminando su monotone pianure né belle né brutte.
Perché non mi ha entusiasmata un libro che aveva tutto per piacermi un sacco? Un tizio un po' svitato gira a piedi per l'Europa a caccia di venti. Vede posti, incontra persone, viene accolto e ospitato, monta la tendina in lande desolate, racconta cose... ma ho trovato troppe pagine piatte, persone raccontate troppo in fretta, in sostanza speravo meglio.
autore o traduzione?:
Il Rodano scorre con cadenza untuosa ??
Il bosco era un rombo statico, a ogni folata i pini si piegavano come fossero di gomma. se i pini si piegano come gomma non mi pare ci sia nulla di statico
qualcosa di grosso e nero – sembrava un’enorme capra a pelo lungo – si avventò nel bosco precipitandosi a folle velocità giù per la discesa se non mi sbaglio (treccani conferma) ci si avventa contro qualcosa o qualcuno, non ci si avventa nel bosco.
La cima era incoronata dalle antenne e dalle parabole di un ripetitore per telecomunicazioni, di un bianco e rosso da èra spaziale devo farlo notare alla NASA: la moda impone il bianco e rosso, eh!
Avrebbe tutte le caratteristiche per piacermi un casino invece mi sto un po' annoiando. Sarà il caldo...
17/08
CI ho messo un casino a finirlo, arrampicandomi annoiata per lunghi tratti, scendendo allegramente per pagine vivaci e piacevoli, camminando su monotone pianure né belle né brutte.
Perché non mi ha entusiasmata un libro che aveva tutto per piacermi un sacco? Un tizio un po' svitato gira a piedi per l'Europa a caccia di venti. Vede posti, incontra persone, viene accolto e ospitato, monta la tendina in lande desolate, racconta cose... ma ho trovato troppe pagine piatte, persone raccontate troppo in fretta, in sostanza speravo meglio.
autore o traduzione?:
Il Rodano scorre con cadenza untuosa ??
Il bosco era un rombo statico, a ogni folata i pini si piegavano come fossero di gomma. se i pini si piegano come gomma non mi pare ci sia nulla di statico
qualcosa di grosso e nero – sembrava un’enorme capra a pelo lungo – si avventò nel bosco precipitandosi a folle velocità giù per la discesa se non mi sbaglio (treccani conferma) ci si avventa contro qualcosa o qualcuno, non ci si avventa nel bosco.
La cima era incoronata dalle antenne e dalle parabole di un ripetitore per telecomunicazioni, di un bianco e rosso da èra spaziale devo farlo notare alla NASA: la moda impone il bianco e rosso, eh!
December 28, 2017
At its core, this book is the product of a project to write a travel book on a topic that seemed to the author to have never been written about before. In some writer's hands, this could be little better than a letter written home, of interest only to the writer and perhaps his close family.
Instead, Nick Hunt combines travelogue, observation, research, insight and wit in a very clever, seamlessly readable book. He explains the nature and origin of the winds (the most famous of the 'named winds' of Europe) and describes their effect on the landscape, on people - both in history and, through the people he meets, in the present - and on himself. He has done his research carefully, in literature, biography, history and politics and weaves their threads into a series of compelling tales - just like a walking companion of the best kind: well-informed and generous with his knowledge and insight, but never in a showy way.
This is a very effective account of a (literally) immersive experience.
Instead, Nick Hunt combines travelogue, observation, research, insight and wit in a very clever, seamlessly readable book. He explains the nature and origin of the winds (the most famous of the 'named winds' of Europe) and describes their effect on the landscape, on people - both in history and, through the people he meets, in the present - and on himself. He has done his research carefully, in literature, biography, history and politics and weaves their threads into a series of compelling tales - just like a walking companion of the best kind: well-informed and generous with his knowledge and insight, but never in a showy way.
This is a very effective account of a (literally) immersive experience.
April 9, 2020
In periodo di quarantena per l'emergenza sanitaria, il libro di Hunt, la sua ricerca di venti quali paradigmi di libertà, rappresenta una 'ventata' di ottimismo!
May 19, 2019
Un viaggio attraverso l'Europa alla ricerca dei venti più famosi e anche più terribili. Un viaggio a piedi, lungo sentieri poco trafficati, in condizioni climatiche a volte avverse, dove la natura è la protagonista assoluta. Nick Hunt non racconta solamente notizie riguardo ai venti, ma correda il tutto con splendidi aneddoti riguardanti le nazioni che visita, il più delle volte sono leggende, racconti popolari ma anche notizie storiche che concorrono a creare un quadro davvero completo delle tappe che lo scrittore fa in questo interessantissimo viaggio.
Anche i personaggi che conosce sono interessanti, alcuni al limite del bizzarro e la conclusione che il lettore può trarre è che il clima influenza moltissimo le persone, al pari della natura che lo circonda. Un bellissimo libro di viaggio e che fa viaggiare anche il lettore, scritto in modo ottimo, si legge davvero con piacere e con interesse.
Anche i personaggi che conosce sono interessanti, alcuni al limite del bizzarro e la conclusione che il lettore può trarre è che il clima influenza moltissimo le persone, al pari della natura che lo circonda. Un bellissimo libro di viaggio e che fa viaggiare anche il lettore, scritto in modo ottimo, si legge davvero con piacere e con interesse.
February 27, 2018
Recommended to me, but I found it very hard going, and the winds hardly featured. There's a lot to say about these winds, and I have been in many of the places where they happen, occasionally when they happen. It was more of a travelogue, and often very elementary in its descriptions and style. In fact there hardly seemed to be any style at all, and I got tired on the silliness of his travelling arrangements. Jan Morris or Paul Theroux it wasn't! A few Google searches got me original and relevant articles about each of the winds I was interested in.
September 26, 2017
I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
From the moment the great storm of 1987 almost blew six-year-old Nick Hunt away, he has had the urge to travel. So many travel books are on the market, it is difficult to produce something new and exciting, but after coming across an interesting map of Europe, Hunt was determined to go on a journey that not many have attempted before. With a map listing the named winds of Europe, Hunt sets off on a quixotic quest to follow the winds.
Beginning in the Pennine Mountains, Nick Hunt takes the reader on a personal journey through the continent as he explores the towns and valleys the winds flow through whilst hoping the elusive tempests will occur so that he can experience them himself. With a mix of euphoria and disappointment, Hunt details his arduous journey providing additional knowledge along the way.
Some winds are more evanescent than others – one, discouragingly, not appearing at all – whereas one is so strong, Hunt witnesses a waterfall being blown upwards. Ignoring the warnings of the locals, Hunt, dead set on completing what he intended to do, takes us on a long walk from Italy to Croatia, a trek through the Alpine valleys of Switzerland, and a final expedition to the south of France.
Wind may seem like an odd topic to write a book about, but the Helm, Bora, Foehn and Mistral are no ordinary breezes. Their violence makes Hunt’s journey a dangerous and daring endeavour and is full of stories about past disasters that have occurred as a result of the strong, temperamental weather.
As well as teaching us about these four winds, Nick Hunt has collected facts and stories about the general areas he passes through. Personal stories of the inhabitants break up Hunt’s narrative, however, myths, legends, history and superstitions frequent the lengthy chapters as much as the winds themselves.
Giving wind a name provides it with a personality, as though it is something tangible that can be met and observed. Nick Hunt notes that artists such as Turner and Constable were interested in the weather and fascinated by the effects the wind had on the surrounding landscape. Another artist that was affected by the weather was Vincent Van Gogh - some of his paintings took place in France in the midst of the powerful Mistral. Just as the wind can be seen in his starry night skies, the scenery in France is evocative of a Van Gogh painting.
The winds do not only affect the lands they blow through, they have a strong impact on the wellbeing of the inhabitants. Some experience physical symptoms such as headaches, nose bleeds, dry skin and so forth, whereas others find themselves growing irritable, depressed and confused. The author himself has the opportunity to undergo the effects of these winds. Hunt also puts forward the suggestion that Van Gogh’s deteriorating mental health was a direct consequence of residing in the path of the Mistral.
From witchcraft to the Greek god Aeolus, there are a number of theories about why these strong winds blow. There are, of course, meteorological explanations, which Hunt attempts to explain, but admits he finds it as baffling as the next person. Regardless of the reason, these winds exist and it is captivating to learn about this aspect of Europe.
Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe’s Winds from the Pennines to Provence is a fantastic, beautifully written book. Nick Hunt’s narrative is so personal that it becomes more than a travel documentation or informative non-fiction. As we read, we really get a sense of the emotions and physical hardship Hunt experienced, yet, at the same time, learn so much about European culture as well as, of course, Europe’s winds. Whether or not you are interested in travelling, this book will take you on a journey you will never forget.
From the moment the great storm of 1987 almost blew six-year-old Nick Hunt away, he has had the urge to travel. So many travel books are on the market, it is difficult to produce something new and exciting, but after coming across an interesting map of Europe, Hunt was determined to go on a journey that not many have attempted before. With a map listing the named winds of Europe, Hunt sets off on a quixotic quest to follow the winds.
Beginning in the Pennine Mountains, Nick Hunt takes the reader on a personal journey through the continent as he explores the towns and valleys the winds flow through whilst hoping the elusive tempests will occur so that he can experience them himself. With a mix of euphoria and disappointment, Hunt details his arduous journey providing additional knowledge along the way.
Some winds are more evanescent than others – one, discouragingly, not appearing at all – whereas one is so strong, Hunt witnesses a waterfall being blown upwards. Ignoring the warnings of the locals, Hunt, dead set on completing what he intended to do, takes us on a long walk from Italy to Croatia, a trek through the Alpine valleys of Switzerland, and a final expedition to the south of France.
Wind may seem like an odd topic to write a book about, but the Helm, Bora, Foehn and Mistral are no ordinary breezes. Their violence makes Hunt’s journey a dangerous and daring endeavour and is full of stories about past disasters that have occurred as a result of the strong, temperamental weather.
As well as teaching us about these four winds, Nick Hunt has collected facts and stories about the general areas he passes through. Personal stories of the inhabitants break up Hunt’s narrative, however, myths, legends, history and superstitions frequent the lengthy chapters as much as the winds themselves.
Giving wind a name provides it with a personality, as though it is something tangible that can be met and observed. Nick Hunt notes that artists such as Turner and Constable were interested in the weather and fascinated by the effects the wind had on the surrounding landscape. Another artist that was affected by the weather was Vincent Van Gogh - some of his paintings took place in France in the midst of the powerful Mistral. Just as the wind can be seen in his starry night skies, the scenery in France is evocative of a Van Gogh painting.
The winds do not only affect the lands they blow through, they have a strong impact on the wellbeing of the inhabitants. Some experience physical symptoms such as headaches, nose bleeds, dry skin and so forth, whereas others find themselves growing irritable, depressed and confused. The author himself has the opportunity to undergo the effects of these winds. Hunt also puts forward the suggestion that Van Gogh’s deteriorating mental health was a direct consequence of residing in the path of the Mistral.
From witchcraft to the Greek god Aeolus, there are a number of theories about why these strong winds blow. There are, of course, meteorological explanations, which Hunt attempts to explain, but admits he finds it as baffling as the next person. Regardless of the reason, these winds exist and it is captivating to learn about this aspect of Europe.
Where the Wild Winds Are: Walking Europe’s Winds from the Pennines to Provence is a fantastic, beautifully written book. Nick Hunt’s narrative is so personal that it becomes more than a travel documentation or informative non-fiction. As we read, we really get a sense of the emotions and physical hardship Hunt experienced, yet, at the same time, learn so much about European culture as well as, of course, Europe’s winds. Whether or not you are interested in travelling, this book will take you on a journey you will never forget.
March 20, 2022
Bloody hell this was long winded!!! (Ey, do you see what I did there?!!)
This started off well with descriptions of weather and place but soon descended into bizarre, mundane minutiae of consumed breakfast items, hours walked, how sore feet are, how scowly locals are!
I had to sympathise with the locals to be honest. There they are battening down the hatches and trying to minimise property damage, death of livestock and loss of earnings, and there's this English buffoon pointing at the sky asking Bora? Mistral? Foehn? whilst skipping off to risk life and limb for the sake of writing something "new"! No wonder he was laughed at when battling with his tent at the edge of a windblown lake in the pissing down rain! Nor when locals turned their backs when they saw him coming. Perhaps he was regarded as completely disrespectful.
Descriptions of someone waiting out bad weather in a small room quickly become repetitive so I then found myself skipping/skim reading large swathes of sections.
Again at the epilogue is the disrespect for people trying to battle with nature. Hunt sees a barn full of cows demolished by wind and 200 year old trees decimated as a "missed opportunity"!! What kind of tit finds positivity in these pieces of news?!! Just no Hunt! Go home!
This started off well with descriptions of weather and place but soon descended into bizarre, mundane minutiae of consumed breakfast items, hours walked, how sore feet are, how scowly locals are!
I had to sympathise with the locals to be honest. There they are battening down the hatches and trying to minimise property damage, death of livestock and loss of earnings, and there's this English buffoon pointing at the sky asking Bora? Mistral? Foehn? whilst skipping off to risk life and limb for the sake of writing something "new"! No wonder he was laughed at when battling with his tent at the edge of a windblown lake in the pissing down rain! Nor when locals turned their backs when they saw him coming. Perhaps he was regarded as completely disrespectful.
Descriptions of someone waiting out bad weather in a small room quickly become repetitive so I then found myself skipping/skim reading large swathes of sections.
Again at the epilogue is the disrespect for people trying to battle with nature. Hunt sees a barn full of cows demolished by wind and 200 year old trees decimated as a "missed opportunity"!! What kind of tit finds positivity in these pieces of news?!! Just no Hunt! Go home!
November 14, 2017
I was SO looking forward to reading this book .... unfortunately it left me somewhat disappointed. The book is well written and the language complex with fine use creative adjectives, idiom and similes. However, I couldn't understand the premiss behind it. Why??? Why did the author take these arduous treks alone through snowfields and heat? It seemed dangerous in the extreme, especially as he states that his maps weren't very good ....
Its not until the acknowledgements when it seems he had some kind of grant to write the book (I may be mistaken but it came over that way) that it appears that the walks were undertaken simply to write the book.
Finally, the author blames everything on these winds, regurgitating urban myths e.g. about getting away with crimes in Switzerland, etc when he readily admits there's no proof !!!
Yes .... disappointed.
Its not until the acknowledgements when it seems he had some kind of grant to write the book (I may be mistaken but it came over that way) that it appears that the walks were undertaken simply to write the book.
Finally, the author blames everything on these winds, regurgitating urban myths e.g. about getting away with crimes in Switzerland, etc when he readily admits there's no proof !!!
Yes .... disappointed.
November 25, 2017
Grateful for the chance to read through the giveaway program.
Being confined through illness, vicarious wild walking is a treat,and this was certainly wild! It is an interesting and unique book traversing varied landscapes,climatic conditions and wind induced phenomena experienced by the author as he sought Europe’s winds. I learnt a lot about how wind shapes not just landscapes but architecture,culture,legend,health and well-being.
Being confined through illness, vicarious wild walking is a treat,and this was certainly wild! It is an interesting and unique book traversing varied landscapes,climatic conditions and wind induced phenomena experienced by the author as he sought Europe’s winds. I learnt a lot about how wind shapes not just landscapes but architecture,culture,legend,health and well-being.
December 29, 2017
This book is all over the place, literally and figuratively. His project is not well-focused, and so it mostly consists of him wandering around in storms, or hoping the Big Wind of wherever he is will blow up soon. So it took me forever to read, because there was no focus and I just didn't care. His first book was much much better.
January 8, 2021
Until I moved to a windy place, I didn't really pay much attention to wind. Except for events like the Great Storm of 1987 (mentioned in the introduction) it wasn't something I particularly noticed. Nowadays one of the first things I notice when I get up are whether it's windy (it usually is) and if so which way the wind is blowing. Yes they do have names: if it's Marin they day will be overcast and humid, if Cers certainly sunny and possibly cold.
So I can see how he could get fascinated by named winds. Is it enough to hang a book on? Not sure, sometimes it feels as if he's padding the book out with lengthy disquisitions on mythology, meteorology, geography, and history. I'm not sure the meteorological parts are accurate, since in the map at the front he has the Tramontane blowing diametrically the wrong way -- across the Pyrenees from Spain to France when it is the other way round. Needless to say he didn't visit Occitanie, or he might have noticed his mistake as he battled against a howling north-wester.
That said, it was a quick and mostly entertaining read. I especially liked the last few pages, when he camps on the bleak Crau east of the Rhone delta, the only steppe in Western Europe.
So I can see how he could get fascinated by named winds. Is it enough to hang a book on? Not sure, sometimes it feels as if he's padding the book out with lengthy disquisitions on mythology, meteorology, geography, and history. I'm not sure the meteorological parts are accurate, since in the map at the front he has the Tramontane blowing diametrically the wrong way -- across the Pyrenees from Spain to France when it is the other way round. Needless to say he didn't visit Occitanie, or he might have noticed his mistake as he battled against a howling north-wester.
That said, it was a quick and mostly entertaining read. I especially liked the last few pages, when he camps on the bleak Crau east of the Rhone delta, the only steppe in Western Europe.
That dry tide ebbed towards the sea, and I was just another rock caught within its current. For the first time on these walks I understood -- for a second at least -- what was going on around my body, under my skin: the molecules of air rushing from high pressure to low pressure, with their cargo of charged ions, righting an atmospheric balance knocked off kilter. What felt like violent, tearing force was really the restoration of peace; what felt like furious motion an attempt to reach a stillness.
Where does wind actually go? Where does it end or begin? It travels but it never arrives; it goes everywhere and nowhere.
June 23, 2019
***(*)
Dit is het wandelverhaal van een windjager. Ik vond dit een zeer origineel uitgangspunt om een wandelroute te bepalen, de jacht op de wind, zoals daar bvb.zijn de Föhn, the Helm, de Mistral... Winden waarvan we de naam kennen en die zeer bepalend zijn voor de streek waarin ze waaien en waar ze deel uitmaken van het landschap en invloed hebben op alles, ook op mens en dier.
In het begin was dit boek mij te zeer "ik zoek de wind tot ik hem vind en de rest is niet belangrijk", ik miste de verwondering van de wandelaar. Maar naargelang het boek vordert en de auteur rustiger wordt in zijn zoektocht, komt die verwondering toch. De delen over de Föhn en de Mistral zijn meesterlijk en bevatten een rust en een alomvattend ontzag voor de natuur dat ik in de twee eerdere delen deels miste. Misschien komt het ook omdat ik me de streken waar de Föhn en de Mistral voorkomen visueel kan voorstellen.
In deze delen is er een echte beleving van de wind en beschrijft de auteur ook welk een invloed de wind heeft op hem.
In het boek kaart de auteur ook het probleem van het groeiende racisme in Europa aan. Hij wandelt tijdens de vluchtelingencrisis door de Balkan, door Zwitserland en door Frankrijk en stuit bij veel mensen op onbegrip en afkeer voor mensen die van elders komen.
"... under the vault of stone I was aware of a different spirit, outside the cathedral's holy shell, the wind sobbed like a child. Divorced from trees and leaves, and grass, and from its feeling on my skin, it was an immensely lonely sound - it brought to mind great distances and cold empty spaces, a painful longing for people I love who were far away - and its sadness was too much."
Dit is het wandelverhaal van een windjager. Ik vond dit een zeer origineel uitgangspunt om een wandelroute te bepalen, de jacht op de wind, zoals daar bvb.zijn de Föhn, the Helm, de Mistral... Winden waarvan we de naam kennen en die zeer bepalend zijn voor de streek waarin ze waaien en waar ze deel uitmaken van het landschap en invloed hebben op alles, ook op mens en dier.
In het begin was dit boek mij te zeer "ik zoek de wind tot ik hem vind en de rest is niet belangrijk", ik miste de verwondering van de wandelaar. Maar naargelang het boek vordert en de auteur rustiger wordt in zijn zoektocht, komt die verwondering toch. De delen over de Föhn en de Mistral zijn meesterlijk en bevatten een rust en een alomvattend ontzag voor de natuur dat ik in de twee eerdere delen deels miste. Misschien komt het ook omdat ik me de streken waar de Föhn en de Mistral voorkomen visueel kan voorstellen.
In deze delen is er een echte beleving van de wind en beschrijft de auteur ook welk een invloed de wind heeft op hem.
In het boek kaart de auteur ook het probleem van het groeiende racisme in Europa aan. Hij wandelt tijdens de vluchtelingencrisis door de Balkan, door Zwitserland en door Frankrijk en stuit bij veel mensen op onbegrip en afkeer voor mensen die van elders komen.
"... under the vault of stone I was aware of a different spirit, outside the cathedral's holy shell, the wind sobbed like a child. Divorced from trees and leaves, and grass, and from its feeling on my skin, it was an immensely lonely sound - it brought to mind great distances and cold empty spaces, a painful longing for people I love who were far away - and its sadness was too much."
May 23, 2018
I was a tad uncertain about whether I'd like this book - I prefer my nature writing to be about living things, not weather. But Hunt's book is just too charming.
It might winds (an eclectic passion) that drive Hunt on various sojourns through Europe, but everything that he encounters along the way is characterful - the mountains and valleys, the villages and towns, and the people most of all. It never fails to astound me to reminded how big even the small continent of Europe is, how many places I've never heard of. How many histories there are. When we're not learning about the winds themselves, the oft-dark pasts of their territories are woven into Hunt's wanderings, like the convulsions of WWII and more recent civil wars and genocide in the Balkans.
That makes this book sound like a rather dispiriting read - but it's not. It's a lovely thing to follow someone's footsteps, and to imagine the homemade walnut-flavoured wine and all the other food that people share with him. Hunt has the style of a slightly more forgiving Bill Bryson, and his prose is often fabulous:
"That night, sipping whisky from my hip-flask, I toasted thanks to Lionel as the hundred-year-old frames caught light, bellowing in the grate and kicking out heat so intense it drove me from the stove. The stillness of the morning was gone; the wind blew loose and wild outside, hammering against the door, sucking from the chimney in great draughts like a thirsty drinker".
Recommended for anyone with a passion for hiking.
It might winds (an eclectic passion) that drive Hunt on various sojourns through Europe, but everything that he encounters along the way is characterful - the mountains and valleys, the villages and towns, and the people most of all. It never fails to astound me to reminded how big even the small continent of Europe is, how many places I've never heard of. How many histories there are. When we're not learning about the winds themselves, the oft-dark pasts of their territories are woven into Hunt's wanderings, like the convulsions of WWII and more recent civil wars and genocide in the Balkans.
That makes this book sound like a rather dispiriting read - but it's not. It's a lovely thing to follow someone's footsteps, and to imagine the homemade walnut-flavoured wine and all the other food that people share with him. Hunt has the style of a slightly more forgiving Bill Bryson, and his prose is often fabulous:
"That night, sipping whisky from my hip-flask, I toasted thanks to Lionel as the hundred-year-old frames caught light, bellowing in the grate and kicking out heat so intense it drove me from the stove. The stillness of the morning was gone; the wind blew loose and wild outside, hammering against the door, sucking from the chimney in great draughts like a thirsty drinker".
Recommended for anyone with a passion for hiking.
September 3, 2020
Somewhere between three and four, I certainly found plenty in this that was interesting and amusing, but there was also a lot which didn't completely hold my attention. Nick Hunt here does an interesting slant on the Robert McFarlane type travel writing, focussing particularly on four famous winds and how these have shaped the areas of Europe in which they blow. The Helm in the Pennines, the Bora along the Balkan coast, the Foehn in Switzerland, and the Mistral in southern France.
It's good, well written with plenty of context and evocative description in each chapter, but the nature of it meant there was an extent to which it felt repetitive. Only so much you can do with "I walked around and talked to locals about the local wind, and then it came and it was pretty spectacular", Hunt does an admirable job here. I couldn't completely escape the feeling of being slightly cross and envious of the author for having the opportunity to gallivant around doing this kind of crap when I've got to go to work. It's alright for some!
It's good, well written with plenty of context and evocative description in each chapter, but the nature of it meant there was an extent to which it felt repetitive. Only so much you can do with "I walked around and talked to locals about the local wind, and then it came and it was pretty spectacular", Hunt does an admirable job here. I couldn't completely escape the feeling of being slightly cross and envious of the author for having the opportunity to gallivant around doing this kind of crap when I've got to go to work. It's alright for some!
May 9, 2021
Even though I found it stylistically unremarkable, I was reasonably entertained by the book. Nick Hunt describes the landscapes he hikes through and his conversations with locals quite well. Furthermore, I liked its mythological, historical and geopolitical aspects. The reference to other authors also blended in nicely.
However, as the publication is not very scientifically oriented, it remains unclear what the writer’s focus is. Geography? Culture? Self-discovery? Likewise, it ends without a proper conclusion.
I’d give it three stars if it weren’t for his rather prominent anti-German bias (even though he travels through Switzerland).
However, as the publication is not very scientifically oriented, it remains unclear what the writer’s focus is. Geography? Culture? Self-discovery? Likewise, it ends without a proper conclusion.
I’d give it three stars if it weren’t for his rather prominent anti-German bias (even though he travels through Switzerland).
March 19, 2018
Nick Hunt's quest to follow four winds - Helm, Bora, Foehn and Mistral around Europe takes the reader on a journey through rugged and wild landscapes with few inhabitants. Nick also discovers the the power of the mighty winds on physical, mental, emotional and spiritual well being...
September 20, 2017
Such a beautiful book and a pleasure to read. A must for people who want something a bit different and a bit special from their travel/nature books.
Read
November 10, 2017Great read
February 1, 2018
Originele invalshoek voor een magnifieke voettocht doorheen de natuurpracht van Europa 🌬
February 9, 2018
I don't usually read travelogues but this authors quest to experience the named winds of Europe is beautiful and poignant although ultimately a bit silly in the context of larger things.
February 6, 2020
Nick Hunt reist dem Wind quasi hinterher oder besser gesagt genau mittenrein. In Europa gibt ein einige große Winde wie zum Beispiel den Föhn, wahrscheinlich der bekannteste, den Mistral und den Helm sowie noch andere.
In diesem Buch berichtet er über seine Reisen zu den Winden Helm, Bora, Föhn und Mistral.
Auf spannende Art und Weise beschreibt der Autor seine Erlebnisse und vernküpft sie mit interessanten Geschichten über das Thema Wind. Hin und wieder treten dabei aber seine Beschreibungen der Orte und der Reise selbst in den Hintergrund.
So erzählt er zum Beispiel im ersten Kapitel darüber, wie er sich mit einem Meteorologen über den Helm unterhielt und später dann mit einem Künstler vor Ort und welche Infos er aus der Literatur, Kunst und Kultur er über den Wind herausgefunden hat. Oder als er die Bora am Mittelmeer besucht verknüpft er dies mit zahlreichen mythologischen Geschichten zum Thema Wind und auch viel mit der geopolitischen Geschichte vor Ort.
Mit der Art und Weise wie er das erzählt, hat er auch mich mit seiner Faszination ein wenig anstecken können. Keine nüchterne, sondern leicht poetisierte Sprache, die den Lesenden genau in die Situation und den Ort versetzt.
Erwartet man aber einen ausführlichen Reisebericht über die Orte, die er besucht, so kann man enttäuscht werden. Sein Hauptaugenmerk ist schon stark auf den Wind und die Geschichten darüber gerichtet. Er besucht auch Museen, die etwas mit Wind zu tun haben und befragt die Menschen an den jewiligen Orten dazu. Hin und wieder erfährt man auch etwas über die Mentalität der Menschen vor Ort, allerdings kommen mir seine Beschreibungen der Menschen manchmal schon etwas karikiert vor.
Den Untertitel Wanderungen vom Atlantik bis zum Mittelmeer darf man auch nicht ganz so ernst nehmen. Ich stellte mir dabei vor, dass Nick Hunt jeden Tag Wanderetappen zurücklegt und im Zelt übernachtet. Tatsächlich ist es so, dass er wohl auch viel mit Zug oder anderen Verkehrsmitteln zu Orten gefahren ist und dort in Hotels, Pensionen oder anderen Unterkünften übernachtet hat. Er ist aber nur zum Teil mal eine Strecke gewandert und in seltenen Fällen hat er in der Natur gezeltet. Allerdings ist hat sich das dann doch noch in den letzten beiden Kapiteln etwas geändert.
Dieses Buch ist eine Mischung zwischen Reiseerfahrung sowie recherchierten Geschichten und Informationen über Wind, Wetter und Leute. Hin und wieder verliert sich aber der Autor in diesen recherchierten Geschichten über den Wind. Das stört an manchen Stellen den Lesefluss.
Ist man für das Thema und die Mischung zwischen Bericht und Hintergrundinfo offen, so ist es eine Empfehlung. Möchte man aber einen reinen Wanderbericht, so würde ich doch eher andere Bücher empfehlen.
In diesem Buch berichtet er über seine Reisen zu den Winden Helm, Bora, Föhn und Mistral.
Auf spannende Art und Weise beschreibt der Autor seine Erlebnisse und vernküpft sie mit interessanten Geschichten über das Thema Wind. Hin und wieder treten dabei aber seine Beschreibungen der Orte und der Reise selbst in den Hintergrund.
So erzählt er zum Beispiel im ersten Kapitel darüber, wie er sich mit einem Meteorologen über den Helm unterhielt und später dann mit einem Künstler vor Ort und welche Infos er aus der Literatur, Kunst und Kultur er über den Wind herausgefunden hat. Oder als er die Bora am Mittelmeer besucht verknüpft er dies mit zahlreichen mythologischen Geschichten zum Thema Wind und auch viel mit der geopolitischen Geschichte vor Ort.
Mit der Art und Weise wie er das erzählt, hat er auch mich mit seiner Faszination ein wenig anstecken können. Keine nüchterne, sondern leicht poetisierte Sprache, die den Lesenden genau in die Situation und den Ort versetzt.
Erwartet man aber einen ausführlichen Reisebericht über die Orte, die er besucht, so kann man enttäuscht werden. Sein Hauptaugenmerk ist schon stark auf den Wind und die Geschichten darüber gerichtet. Er besucht auch Museen, die etwas mit Wind zu tun haben und befragt die Menschen an den jewiligen Orten dazu. Hin und wieder erfährt man auch etwas über die Mentalität der Menschen vor Ort, allerdings kommen mir seine Beschreibungen der Menschen manchmal schon etwas karikiert vor.
Den Untertitel Wanderungen vom Atlantik bis zum Mittelmeer darf man auch nicht ganz so ernst nehmen. Ich stellte mir dabei vor, dass Nick Hunt jeden Tag Wanderetappen zurücklegt und im Zelt übernachtet. Tatsächlich ist es so, dass er wohl auch viel mit Zug oder anderen Verkehrsmitteln zu Orten gefahren ist und dort in Hotels, Pensionen oder anderen Unterkünften übernachtet hat. Er ist aber nur zum Teil mal eine Strecke gewandert und in seltenen Fällen hat er in der Natur gezeltet. Allerdings ist hat sich das dann doch noch in den letzten beiden Kapiteln etwas geändert.
Dieses Buch ist eine Mischung zwischen Reiseerfahrung sowie recherchierten Geschichten und Informationen über Wind, Wetter und Leute. Hin und wieder verliert sich aber der Autor in diesen recherchierten Geschichten über den Wind. Das stört an manchen Stellen den Lesefluss.
Ist man für das Thema und die Mischung zwischen Bericht und Hintergrundinfo offen, so ist es eine Empfehlung. Möchte man aber einen reinen Wanderbericht, so würde ich doch eher andere Bücher empfehlen.
January 13, 2019
If Nick Hunt had been writing in the ‘golden age’ of travel writing, a few decades ago, he would have been up there alongside Raban, Chatwin and others. He’s too young for that – this is only his second book, after the wonderful ‘Walking the Woods and the Water’. However, he writes with astonishing depth and maturity, and clearly will build a readership waiting eagerly for his next book.
At the beginning of this one, he stands in the travel section of a bookshop, overcome by the impression that ‘…everything had been followed that it was possible to follow. There seemed to be no trails left that hadn’t been traversed.’ He’s talking about looking for a reason to walk a particular path, rather than specifically about the book he would produce as a result of doing it, but the reader knows that the problem is not only that everything is explored, and that few places are left that are really wild, but also that most of the travel books that can be written, have already been published.
Except that that is, thankfully, not really true. Of course, travel sections of bookshops now seem to be full of books by people who have stopped travelling and settled in Provence, or Tuscany, or Andalucia, or even somewhere in Mexico (San Miguel de Allende, perhaps). Other titles are about exploits (round the world on a tandem). There seems a smidgeon of genuine exploring left in places like Antarctica and Papua New Guinea. But the current generation of real travel writers, however small, does seem to preserve a niche which consists of writing about already-known places in new ways.
Hunt found this when he wrote his first book, following in the steps across Europe of Patrick Leigh Fermor and comparing the places as the latter saw them with how they look now. This time, he throws his hat into four of the high winds that cross parts of Europe, using them as a device to explore selected corners of the continent with fresh eyes (one might say, fresh boots). The main point, though, is that it gives him an excuse to walk across regions already criss-crossed by well-used paths, and deploy his wonderful powers of description to capture them in gloriously full phrases that stand comparison with Raban’s description of the Mississippi or Chatwin’s of Patagonia. Let’s hope that Nick Hunt continues to find inspiration for his walks, and for his writing about them.
At the beginning of this one, he stands in the travel section of a bookshop, overcome by the impression that ‘…everything had been followed that it was possible to follow. There seemed to be no trails left that hadn’t been traversed.’ He’s talking about looking for a reason to walk a particular path, rather than specifically about the book he would produce as a result of doing it, but the reader knows that the problem is not only that everything is explored, and that few places are left that are really wild, but also that most of the travel books that can be written, have already been published.
Except that that is, thankfully, not really true. Of course, travel sections of bookshops now seem to be full of books by people who have stopped travelling and settled in Provence, or Tuscany, or Andalucia, or even somewhere in Mexico (San Miguel de Allende, perhaps). Other titles are about exploits (round the world on a tandem). There seems a smidgeon of genuine exploring left in places like Antarctica and Papua New Guinea. But the current generation of real travel writers, however small, does seem to preserve a niche which consists of writing about already-known places in new ways.
Hunt found this when he wrote his first book, following in the steps across Europe of Patrick Leigh Fermor and comparing the places as the latter saw them with how they look now. This time, he throws his hat into four of the high winds that cross parts of Europe, using them as a device to explore selected corners of the continent with fresh eyes (one might say, fresh boots). The main point, though, is that it gives him an excuse to walk across regions already criss-crossed by well-used paths, and deploy his wonderful powers of description to capture them in gloriously full phrases that stand comparison with Raban’s description of the Mississippi or Chatwin’s of Patagonia. Let’s hope that Nick Hunt continues to find inspiration for his walks, and for his writing about them.
April 4, 2021
Coming from Britain, it's hard to imagine winds blowing so reliably and predictably that they can be named. I've always found the idea appealing however so it's great to learn from this book that Britain has its own named wind. Affecting specific areas of Cumbria, the Helm isn't as well known as continental superstars like the mistral or the Föhn and seems somewhat elusive. Attempts to experience it begin and end the book. In between the author walks through wind swept landscapes of Europe, dodging the far right and delivering interesting nuggets of history and geography. It made me want to pull on my walking boots and head for the mountains.
Read
July 15, 2021At the moment I haven't the patience to enjoy the author's journey, constructed on the idea of winds and providing some information, but primarily a traveller's tale. I was hoping for more scientific content and a lot less personal detail. I can't settle to this and lost it at page 39 when he checks the wood pile at the bothy in the Pennines after his first night and finds it finished. Why should he expect to find wood at all - he hadn't brought any! I did read a bit further but I was out of sympathy and had to stop.
October 3, 2018
Although elegant in its prose I found the book sporadic in places. The book starts which no rationale behind the journey and ends without any real conclusion. Before dismissing other peoples views on refugees etc that author should realise that not all people especially the older generation share his views on liberilism and the movement of people. Just saying.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 16, 2020
In mijn zoektocht naar schrijvers zoals Paulo Cognetti, is Nick Hunt met zijn boek ‘Waar de wind waait’ een mooie vondst! In zijn trektocht door Europa volgt hij de grote winden die waaien op ons continent.
Al kunnen we voorlopig niet op vakantie, met dit boek kun je op reis vanuit je luie stoel in de achtertuin!🌳🏔
Al kunnen we voorlopig niet op vakantie, met dit boek kun je op reis vanuit je luie stoel in de achtertuin!🌳🏔
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