Whether you're an explorer or a tourist, the journey often proves to be more exciting than the place you arrive at. Not to mention more alarming, entertaining, spectacular, dangerous or farcical. All of which is pretty closely connected with the mode of transport you're dependent on - from stubborn mule to ancient plane. Brian Thacker has been on the look-out for unusual vehicles ever since he travelled down the Ovens River in the Victorian Alps on a rubber inner tube when he was nine years old. Here he writes about his most memorable journeys, including his trip on the Trans Siberian Express, his pub crawl on the London tube, his journey down the east coast of Australia in a truck and a camel safari with a particularly grumpy camel.
Travel Author Brian Thacker was born in England, but he didn't like the weather so he immigrated to Melbourne, Australia when he was six. After many years working as an art director in advertising Brian worked as a tour leader escorting bus loads of drunk Aussies around Europe. That 'experience' became Brian's first book Rule No. 5: No Sex on the Bus (2001). Since then Brian has written six other books including Planes, Trains and Elephants (2002), The Naked Man Festival (2004), I'm Not Eating Any of That Foreign Muck (2005), Where's Wallis? (2006), '2009 Travel Book of the Year' for Sleeping Around and Tell Them to Get Lost: Travels with the Lonely Planet guidebook that started it all (2011). Brian's books have been translated into German, Thai, Mandarin and Slovenian. So far he has visited 81 countries (82 if you count Tasmania). Brian recently moved from Melbourne to Minneapolis, Minnesota.
Traveling has become one of my favorite hobbies. I love visiting new places, seeing new things, experiencing different cultures. But for me travel is about the destinations, not the journey (at least most of the time). Over the last couple of decades, the airlines have managed to suck all the joy out of air travel, and time constraints often limit my ability to travel in a more leisurely fashion.
But, based on this book, Thacker has a very different point of view. He seems absolutely fascinated by the journey. He is a connoisseur of unusual travel stories, the more obscure the mode of transportation, the better, so it would seem. Many of these stories are amusing, the best of them remind me of Bill Bryson at his best. Others are, frankly, hair raising. There is no overarching theme here, beyond appreciating the adventures that happen along the way.
I picked this book up at the International BookCrossing Convention in Bordeaux based on the title. I had intended to put it right back down after using it to make a conversational point, but it looked intriguing and I held on to it. One of the first chapters in the book includes a less than enthusiastic review of Royal Air Maroc and the Mohammed V airport in Casablanca. I read it aboard a Royal Air Maroc plane waiting to take off from the airport in question and laughed out loud because it was so accurate, even though 30 years had elapsed between the author's visit and mine. For that and his accurate review of Moroccan music, and a decent sense of humor, I am inclined to think well of this book. His language was a bit salty, he was way too eager to discuss naked female anatomy, and he made negative comments on overweight people he encountered, which did not endear him to me. So, a middle of the road review. The elephant chapter was hilarious, the taxi chapter was simply enjoyable, and the motorcycle chapter will make you question his sanity.
Okay, I like travel narrative and I like humour. And this one had its moments. The Trans-Siberian railway chapter was interesting (though I'd have liked bit more about Mongolia and Siberia and a bit less about how terrible the toilets on the train were). The Underground pub crawl chapter, however, was genuinely funny.
But a lot of the other chapters had too much of a 'Drunken ocker dude in thongs from passing Contiki Tour has a go at paragliding for a laugh and nearly dies' vibe.
Also, I kept checking the publication date (2002), because the tone in his descriptions of the people kept making me think it might have been written back in the bad old days, when foreigners were funny because they were foreigners and girls were there to be gazed upon. From that point of view, it felt more like 30 or 40 years old, than 20.
But, as I say, it had it moments. And he writes well. The sense of humour just misses mine, more often than not.
I borrowed the book from a friend and proceeded to torture my eyes through the night trying to finish it in one go. Totally worth it. I'm looking forward to reading the other books by the author - probably the first Australian writer I ever read.