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On The Trail of Marco Polo: Along the Silk Road By Bicycle
In 1997, Brady Fotheringham set out to retrace part of this historic trail on a mountain bike. Three months, 3000 miles, and numerous arrests later, he arrived in New Delhi with a multitude of unforgettable experiences that travel readers and biking enthusiasts will delight in sharing.
273 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2000
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
March 29, 2020
To travel you must first dream....By understanding others and the way they live and how you interact with them, you learn more about yourself....Travelling tests our resourcefulness, energy and patience as we cope with foreign customs, agitated stomachs and frustrating border officials. from intro p4
From dreams to the nitty gritty, BF attempts to cover it all as he documents his cycling adventures along the old silk road and beyond, along its modern counterpart the Karakoram Highway into Pakistan. Responding to an invitation by his British biking pal Tony, with whom he had had a marvellous time a few years back cycling around the Atlas Mountains, he borrows his brothers bike and is off to China where he meets up with Tony and another recruit Tim. It is July 1997.
Unfortunately, none of us really hit it off. It was a relief when they split up a bit early in Kashgar, after a gruelling ride across the Mongolian wastes. BF is far too discreet to give much detail, but the impression is clear that bonding did not take place. I wonder if any of that was due to the authors meticulous narcissism and the way he disregarded anyone who didn't share his risky culinary tastes. BF was as self-sufficient as is possible and had planned his route to extend through Pakistan into Kashmir with a foray into Afghanistan then into India to catch his flight home. In fact, he was able to achieve this, and the book does improve as he goes along.
I realized the real distinctions between tourists and travellers-those who leave their assumptions at home and those who don't. p193
For all of his tolerant nonchalance, and even as he is somewhat aware of it, BF's innate sense of privilege was always assumed. He is always comparing and contrasting and reaching for what he considered exotic. As much as I was interested in his trip, and as much as I admire him for not dwelling on his pre-existing medical condition, I couldn't quite warm to him either. There was an episode where he and a man he was riding with become so exasperated at the packs of children throwing stones at them from above the road that they buy slingshots to fight back. And yet he writes:
I wanted to help but I couldn't. For the first time, the poverty of this desolate war-torn country hit me. Part of travelling to foreign places is finding the unexpected. Hearing the anguished cries of children was too much. p238
It's evident how BF delights in the kids, in fact. Many of the photos he includes in a coloured insert are of the children he encountered along the way. The fairly detailed maps included give a good idea of the vast extent of the route; BF is not chronological as he weaves his way and I did get lost a few times. Where BF lost me was the picture of him holding a big gun. It might be unfair of me to expect him to be more of a mystic, and I value his political insights into these places I will never get to see, but I wanted more landscape and less machismo.
....it is people who make a journey memorable. p6
From dreams to the nitty gritty, BF attempts to cover it all as he documents his cycling adventures along the old silk road and beyond, along its modern counterpart the Karakoram Highway into Pakistan. Responding to an invitation by his British biking pal Tony, with whom he had had a marvellous time a few years back cycling around the Atlas Mountains, he borrows his brothers bike and is off to China where he meets up with Tony and another recruit Tim. It is July 1997.
Unfortunately, none of us really hit it off. It was a relief when they split up a bit early in Kashgar, after a gruelling ride across the Mongolian wastes. BF is far too discreet to give much detail, but the impression is clear that bonding did not take place. I wonder if any of that was due to the authors meticulous narcissism and the way he disregarded anyone who didn't share his risky culinary tastes. BF was as self-sufficient as is possible and had planned his route to extend through Pakistan into Kashmir with a foray into Afghanistan then into India to catch his flight home. In fact, he was able to achieve this, and the book does improve as he goes along.
I realized the real distinctions between tourists and travellers-those who leave their assumptions at home and those who don't. p193
For all of his tolerant nonchalance, and even as he is somewhat aware of it, BF's innate sense of privilege was always assumed. He is always comparing and contrasting and reaching for what he considered exotic. As much as I was interested in his trip, and as much as I admire him for not dwelling on his pre-existing medical condition, I couldn't quite warm to him either. There was an episode where he and a man he was riding with become so exasperated at the packs of children throwing stones at them from above the road that they buy slingshots to fight back. And yet he writes:
I wanted to help but I couldn't. For the first time, the poverty of this desolate war-torn country hit me. Part of travelling to foreign places is finding the unexpected. Hearing the anguished cries of children was too much. p238
It's evident how BF delights in the kids, in fact. Many of the photos he includes in a coloured insert are of the children he encountered along the way. The fairly detailed maps included give a good idea of the vast extent of the route; BF is not chronological as he weaves his way and I did get lost a few times. Where BF lost me was the picture of him holding a big gun. It might be unfair of me to expect him to be more of a mystic, and I value his political insights into these places I will never get to see, but I wanted more landscape and less machismo.
....it is people who make a journey memorable. p6
May 7, 2025
I started reading this because I was looking for an interesting travelogue of a proper adventure. i realized I liked the genre when I read Che Guevara's Motorcycle Diaries. Unfortunately, this was not as great as I was hoping it to be but I am glad I read it. If this kind of book is what you're into it's worth a read.
I would like to start with the good stuff. The book really engaged me from Kashgar onwards, the people and places Fotheringham encountered there and beyond was fascinating. Perhaps this has to do with Fotheringham travelling alone from that point onwards, maybe the places brought more out of him, I'm not sure. it's also worth noting I tend to get into books more in the latter portion as well.
Now the unfortunate parts of this book. I mentioned that Kashgar is where this book grabbed me. Fotheringham and his travel-mates arrive in Kashgar at roughly the halfway mark. the first half of this was a drag for me. Beyond that, I will say the way Fotheringham writes about his journey at times felt Orientalist to me (and I mean that in the negative way). I believe it gets better as the book goes on, maybe because he sheds some of his preconceived notions as he travels on. Fotheringham was undoubtedly brave and adventurous, maybe to the point of foolishness at times. He has earned my respect for making such a journey and being unrelenting in his lust for adventure.
That said, I'm aware of the fact I'm reading this 24 years after its publishing, and 25 or so years after its writing. It makes sense I'd be looking at the book from a different perspective, and the elements that may not have aged well are still interesting.
I would like to start with the good stuff. The book really engaged me from Kashgar onwards, the people and places Fotheringham encountered there and beyond was fascinating. Perhaps this has to do with Fotheringham travelling alone from that point onwards, maybe the places brought more out of him, I'm not sure. it's also worth noting I tend to get into books more in the latter portion as well.
Now the unfortunate parts of this book. I mentioned that Kashgar is where this book grabbed me. Fotheringham and his travel-mates arrive in Kashgar at roughly the halfway mark. the first half of this was a drag for me. Beyond that, I will say the way Fotheringham writes about his journey at times felt Orientalist to me (and I mean that in the negative way). I believe it gets better as the book goes on, maybe because he sheds some of his preconceived notions as he travels on. Fotheringham was undoubtedly brave and adventurous, maybe to the point of foolishness at times. He has earned my respect for making such a journey and being unrelenting in his lust for adventure.
That said, I'm aware of the fact I'm reading this 24 years after its publishing, and 25 or so years after its writing. It makes sense I'd be looking at the book from a different perspective, and the elements that may not have aged well are still interesting.
January 1, 2026
While I read this book, a friend was traveling in China, so I had to remind myself that Brady's trip was almost 30 years ago and that attitudes (such as feelings towards foreigners) can change. But I also had to accept that some things are slow to change (such as circumstances in Afghanistan).
I was reminded of Greg Mortenson's books "Three Cups of Tea" and "Stones into Schools". How business starts with sitting down to drink tea, the bad roads in Afghanistan, and how difficult life has been in this region of the world. But I also remember hearing, at the time, about women in Afghanistan having to wear burkas.
Back to this book. Brady shares the good, the bad, and the ugly of his cycling trip. I really enjoyed reading about the people he encountered. The writing was okay, though the occasional passage was difficult to follow (like skipping a step in a recipe then going back to the missed step).
I'm left wondering how much has changed in this part of the world in the past 30 years, with respect to human rights, access to a safe living situation, access to food and water, etc.
I was reminded of Greg Mortenson's books "Three Cups of Tea" and "Stones into Schools". How business starts with sitting down to drink tea, the bad roads in Afghanistan, and how difficult life has been in this region of the world. But I also remember hearing, at the time, about women in Afghanistan having to wear burkas.
Back to this book. Brady shares the good, the bad, and the ugly of his cycling trip. I really enjoyed reading about the people he encountered. The writing was okay, though the occasional passage was difficult to follow (like skipping a step in a recipe then going back to the missed step).
I'm left wondering how much has changed in this part of the world in the past 30 years, with respect to human rights, access to a safe living situation, access to food and water, etc.
April 30, 2021
I finished it but it was not really a good use of my reading time. It may have been improved by a professional editor as in places the flow of events is unclear. Errors in word choice and grammar are also in evidence. Overall I do not see the author as the good traveller he sees himself as.
December 29, 2010
I liked this book - a lot. Picked it up at the library not knowing what to expect but it was a notch higher than many cycling books that I've read because of the difficulties the author overcomes on his journey. The writer introduced me to places of the world that I have never been and still think about two years later, most recently with the flooding of areas of Pakistan. I recommended the book to a friend at work and she loved it too.
February 22, 2009
I really didn't care for this book at all. I quit after about page 30. It was clunky writing and I just didn't want to travel another 3000 miles with this guy and his bike! Instead I'm reading Shadow of the Silk Road by Colin Thubron, which is a beautifully written account of his travels through the same part of the world.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews