Three for the Road: Non-Fiction for the Summer

Earlier I said I'd be posting about road books: at the time I was thinking of novels of quest and self-discovery.  But in the last few weeks I've also read three entertaining, informative (and in one case extremely thought-provoking) books about road trips.

The first is relatively recent: Taras Grescoe's Straphanger.  Published in 2012, its subtitle might seem in conflict with the idea of a road book: "Saving our cities and ourselves from the automobile." But Grescoe roamed the world to look at the way cities are organized in terms of transporation. His reflections on how that organization affects the everyday lives of millions--to say nothing of the future of the planet--suggest a road map for what we ought to do.  His adventures in Shanghai, Moscow, Tokyo, Bogotá and places in between are great fun to read about, and enough to set you to planning your own trip around the world to ride subways, bikes and buses.

The second road book is much older: In Search of Genghis Khan  by Tim Severin.  In 1990, just as the Soviet bloc was beginning to crumble, he went to Mongolia to ride with the descendants of Genghis Khan.  The idea, inspired by Severin's graduate work in history,  at first was to go from the capital Ulaan Baator to Europe, retracing the conquests of the great Khan.  Not surprisingly Severin got only about 500 miles, but the picture he paints of the Mongolian countryside and people is fascinating.  It is also a record of a time lost, since the country has since been transformed by, among other things, the automobile.  For a more recent look, check out Graeme Lachance's blog "The Skies We Share", written while he taught recently in UB.  For one thing, the great blue skies have been replaced by a pall  of pollution, it seems.

The third was written a few years ago, but has as its background travel and expeditions even older than the Mongol invastions of Europe.  It's Pagan Holiday: On the Trail of Ancient Roman Tourists by Tony Perrotttet.  The Australian travel writer and his American wife decided to follow the trail of Romans travelling for pleasure as a last adventure before becoming parents.  "Minimal squalor," she insisted, and mostly that's what the found.  They followed the counsel of Roman and Greek writers, gleaned from the 30 pounds of books they carried with them. The result is a delightful account of a journey taking place simultaneously in the far distant past and in the 21st century present.