I'm not sure if reading an 1870s travelogue about a country you don't know much about is the most sensible thing to do, but at least I'm learning how it (supposedly) was at the time. However, as much as a smooth read a Trollope fiction can be, his non-fiction can be rather dry. This is the first time where I feel that a book of his is a bit of a slog. However, the occasional episode is interesting to read, and his snarky asides liven the text up, so it's not entirely an endurance test.
Nevertheless, nothing can prepare you for the emotional whiplash when he (being a very progressive person for his time) calls out the racist attitudes of the colonizers and then, on the next page, he himself spits out the most racist remarks you can imagine. In those moments you get the reminder that you're still reading a text written by someone who lived at the height of the British Empire.
Keeping in line with the original publication, this facsimile reprint by the Trollope Society came in two volumes. I'm not sure whether I really have to read the second volume except for fulfilling a completionist desire (and because it had cost me 60€ as a whole), but I need a break either way.