Seeking to capture the spirit of his literary heroes, Patrick O'Neil quits his desk job, breaks up with his girlfriend and throws himself at the world. His bookish inspiration leads to unlikely results - with a head full of Kafka he ends up at a psychedelic trance party in the Sahara Desert, and Kerouac delivers him into the clutches of lawless military cops in Rio. Hunter S. Thompson reliably sends him into a peyote-fired panic, hiding from murderous Mexican cowboys.O'Neil's instinct to always choose the riskier, less comfortable path on offer rewards him with often comical misadventure, but also unforgettable raw experience and unlikely friendships.Sideways is a hair-raising and often hilarious account of the kind of travel that doesn't just broaden the mind, but twists it in new directions - revealing that the way forward isn't always straight ahead.
Just don't do it... walk away from this book, this author, these stories, this guy... I rarely give "terrible" reviews or "ratings" but this read like self-important, egotistical, pseudo-intellectual prattling from a guy throwing in 3 quirky authors with cool kudos to give himself that aura of wild, beatnik, unihibited "gonzo" style pathos. It is as another reader described it - just about him taking drugs... really dull to be honest. No depth, no soul, no story - just him navel gazing across the world and being a prat. The last section with his stint in the States is just unpleasant - and no, it's not the roommates that he venomously portrays and betrays but his own smallness, his own ego and his inability to just be a human being and not some wanker with delusions of pretentious literay claims who takes his life, world and good fortune for granted and snorts, smokes, drinks, pills, mushrooms, peyotes it away in a self-indulgent drug tour. I could not care less if he was almost gang-banged by Mexican cowboys while he was high on peyote looking to buy more beer and talk about how hot and mind melded he is with his chick companion. The could-have beens and almost's are better than his story he boringly portrays. This guy is no Hunter K. Kerouac
I've done a lot of travelling in my life and have to say this book best embodied my experience of life out there. This book made me laugh more than I have for a long time when reading a book but somehow it also made me think about why I travel.
So yeah, can't really recommend it enough. It made me want to see the world... and laugh my ass off. Hope you like it too.
When not getting carried away too much with drugs this is a great travel memoir with quite a few entertaining scenes. Also a story of the growth of a young man wnating to find himself and realising that he was always found :)
I was very similar to Patrick in my early 20s, a well read self absorbed kid who travelled thinking that he was doing something new and unique. Sadly, it is really boring to listen to other people's travel stories, doesn't matter if it is family, or your best friends, nobody's travel is interesting. Trying to be that person who doesn't want to be like everybody else just makes you even more of a jerk. Tourism is in itself repetitive, who cares if you're not the first person to go Thailand, it's a holiday just go enjoy yourself and don't get stuck in the mindset of trying to do this differently.
There is a great lyric from a kiwi band Shihad, which goes 'I want to be myself, just like everybody else', which always made me laugh. No offence to Patrick, this is exactly the sort of book I wanted to write in my younger days, I just didn't enjoy reading it.
Entertaining book, sure. But goddamn, he is clearly a journalist who loved these authors and tries to write his own profound quote that has already been written and he changes three words. Supposed to be a story about travel, he has about three stories worth telling the rest of it is him on a bus and he still couldn't write anything worth noting. You only broke up with one girlfriend, you had two or three decent stories, in fact I applaud you, you somehow made the most underwhelming travels stories into a book. You secured the bag, I hope. Oh you did peyote and freaked out? Wild. If I find out you've written another book after this one I'll be so fucking mad.
Also, low-key anti-semitic. "Oh, sure I loved Jewish people while I was travelling, ALSO the worst people I knew were Jewish"
This may be the most cringe inducing book I’ve ever read. A young wannabe hipster with delusions of grandeur goes on a few holidays to go to raves and take drugs. Wow, so original. Two moments that were especially embarrassing - takes peyote and has some delusional paranoid trip where people are chasing him and that insanely douche-worthy bit about moving to Williamsburg and “dressing to look the part”. Yuck. It’s a sin that he has invoked the names of such legends in this piece of crap story. Hey
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I'm sure people took the whole Kerouac, Kafka and Hunter S thing too literally and thus shunned this book, but open your eyes too what it is. A travel memoir, and a great one at that. It breezes at a nice pace, his realisations and experiences are honest, its funny, and it damn well made my feet itch. His explanation of great american writers in relation to his travel ideas actually influenced me to read all of those classic books by those writers.
maybe its because i'm an australian who related to his personality and ideas, but kudos patrick o'neil. loved it.
This book made me chuckle to myself at times great Aussie humour! Even if I dont like how it always seems to be peak drama (the worst, the most horrifying and so on)- too much drama for me to be realistic.... - it is entertaining, indeed! And there is wisdom in it... the wisdom one can only achieve by traveling with all one's heart :)