Tell King Tut I want my mummy

I miss my mum. When she last got in touch she was going to a sinfully sunny island in Greece. She’s on a cruise – complete with movie cinemas, swimming pools and restaurants - where dinner is served promptly at ‘whatever o’clock.’ When some folks in her social group decided to book a cruise, she jumped high and far at the chance to travel.


She asked me to come but alas the trip coincided with exams and assignment madness. With the gotcha gremlin of hindsight I now think I’m crazy for passing on this one! She gets back tomorrow and in amongst doing my essays (1 down, 2 to go!) I look forward to seeing her.

My plane reading is sorted, thanks to recommendations from fellow bibliophiles. I'll be cruising the clouds with my head stuck in David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas , thanks to Matt. Satisfying two of my passions, wanderlust and bibliomania, is Books, Baguettes and Bedbugs, a travel narrative by Jeremy Mercer about his stay at an English-language bookstore in Paris - Shakespeare and Co (cheers tanabata!). Overexcitement bubbles at the thought of reading the YA book Holes . I will leave it behind owing to Bybee's input about its lack of page-number meatiness. Not ideal for plane material, but I hope to consume it quickly the week before I leave.

I must offer up a little confession at the risk of being maligned. I’ve never read Harry Potter. Horrified now? I'm willing to correct my backward ways and the trip would be a good excuse. So, if I get hold of a copy of the first book, I might make a substitution… I'm not sure about the Los Angeles aiport, but since we have a six-hour stopover there I could possibly acquire it there.

Vicariously French

If you’re a foreigner attending a function or dinner in Paris, don’t expect to be the life of the party. Instead, make like a chair. Apparently, pretending you’re a chair is the best way to quell your insecurities and keep your composure at stuffy Parisian events. Sarah Turnbull’s experience in Almost French deals with the dilemma that it is to belong to two places, two cultures. Traveling in Greece, Sarah encounters an old Greek on Samos island who warns her:

It’s a bitter-sweet thing, knowing two cultures, he’d said. ‘It’s a curse to love two countries.’ Well I certainly don’t think of living abroad as a curse - I don’t think the Greek believed it either. He was just dramatizing his dilemma, the feeling of being torn between two places. And this is I something I now understand.



Sarah comes to know this ‘bitter-sweet’ dilemma as an expatriate in France. Uncharacteristically, she accepts an invitation to stay with Frederic, a Frenchman, at his place in Levallois. The decision is couched in uncertainty as she had only briefly met this quirky, self-professed ‘maniac’ (a term she puzzles over at first but which eventually endears her). The travel narrative explores the process of adjustment and cultural negotiation that occurs when Sarah moves to Paris. Cultural clashes emerge as she realizes she’s more Australian than she’d care to admit. But despite the frustrations of Paris, she discovers its enchantment – from the hypnotic world of haute-couture to the tolerant regard Parisians show to the homeless.

With the exception of Bill Bryson, my experience with travel narratives has been limited until recent weeks. I must say Almost French was surprisingly funny and self-aware in both its participation in and interrogation of cultural clashes and stereotypes. Authenticity is an issue for travel narratives, as the reader may sometimes be sceptical about whether they really get to the meat of cultural difference or instead perpetuate stereotypes. Nevertheless I appreciated Turnbull’s honesty. Travel narratives as a genre provide an excellent vehicle for the representation of an individual’s intercultural understanding.

One month until I leave for my trip! At the moment with travel narratives I do feel a bit like I’m popping Pringles – I can’t get enough. I’m wondering, in your experience does the need to live adventures vicariously through travel narratives come and go?

Bookstore Backpacking

How does one master the art of travel? Even more importantly how does one stay replete with reading material? I’ll be jet-setting around the world soon and getting hold of books may become difficult. Seven months traveling time will make for lots of reading – to entertain myself on the train or when stuck in a hostel at night. Great books will be needed to suit my wanderlust mood.

Initially, I’ll leave home with three choices – one for the plane, one for the stopover in LA and one for ‘emergency purposes’. Excessive, maybe, but I don’t think it differs from my everyday stuff-the-handbag-with-books routine. Let me confess, in the guise of ‘travel entertainment I’ve splurged on books recently – including a YA book by Sacher called Holes and Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy. I hate, hate, hate parting with books and now I don’t want to take them with me knowing I have to abandon them on the road. What to do? But anyway, any reader tips on satisfying bibliophilic needs when traveling?

I’ve managed to track down some must-see international bookshops. Two on the top of my list are English language bookstores, Atlantis Books in Santorini, Greece and Shakespeare and Co. in Paris. Of course I will be coasting in to these havens to replenish my supplies and will let you know what exciting things I find!


ATLANTIS BOOKSTORE: OIA, SANTORINI, GREECE




SHAKESPEARE & CO: PARIS, FRANCE

You spin me right round baby, right round

Absence characterizes acquisitionist land at the moment, on the blog scene and mentally as my mind drifts off…

I’m distracted by Big Exciting Things. Disillusioned with work/study/work/study I impulsively decided to take time off uni. On June 22nd, I’m heading off on a round-the world trip with mother dearest. Three months in Europe – with a rough country plan and a Eurail pass for spontaneity and convenience. I’m wildly excited about Greece because I’ve been learning Modern Greek for the last two years. We’ve allowed a month in Morocco so there should be some serious exploration and dining there. From there we head on to India and Nepal for six weeks. Lastly, we finish up with Thailand and Vietnam. Reading ramifications entail immersion in a plethora of travel narratives and guide books as I ease into the art of travel with mental meandering.

Holy Cow by Australian author Sarah MacDonald is a crazy crash course in the madness that is India. As a student backpacker Sarah had gone to India, and left disillusioned and loathsome. Before leaving, a man prophesised she would return, but giving him the finger, Sarah returned to Australia. As it would work out, she later goes back to India for love. Following her husband there, a journalist, Sarah befriends some locals and sets up a life in India. Sarah embarks upon a humorous and alarming spiritual quest as she investigates a number of different faiths in a place where people do not understand her agnosticism.

Particularly amusing is Sarah’s attempt at mastering Hindi. Frustrated by her outsider status Sarah learns Hindi to converse with the locals and circumvent extortionate ‘special’ prices for foreigners. Practicing Hindi on the streets she meets with surprised reactions. Unfortunately, Sarah was taught the overly formal language which according to her teacher befitted her station. Try questioning a taxi driver about his ‘automobile of gold’ or buying some time with a ‘let me twirl my moustache whilst I cogitate’ and you’ll have an idea about the utility value of this mode of expression.

Rule No 5: No Sex on the Bus by Brian Thacker confirms the reasons I wouldn’t want to do a tour but is nevertheless full of amusing, frightening and amorous anecdotes. As a tour guide on bus trips throughout Europe Brian was responsible for enforcing - and on the odd occasion breaking - the rules set out for tour guides and trippers. Keeping a bunch of wildly oversexed, energetic and mixed tourists would be a testing experience but it’s evident Thacker’s easygoing attitude and sense of humour got him through it.


Today, I finished off a sumptuous course in the form of The Summer of My Greek Taverna by Tom Stone. Again with the travel narratives sorry, but this one dovetails nicely with my fascination with all things Greek. Tom Stone, an American man, goes to Greece one summer in the hope of writing a novel. He finds love with a French painter in Greece and stays for twenty-two years. Buying into a partnership running The Beautiful Eleni, a taverna in Greece, he goes into business on the Patmian island. He comes to know and work the taverna intimately and discovers that the romanticised retreat he had only experienced as a visitor is a stress-mine. Despite this, word of Tom's cooking and hospitality spreads, and the taverna experiences unprecedented success. Referred to throughout the book and featured at the back are the tried-and-tested recipes from the taverna. I’m particularly excited about trying out the Youvarlakia Avgolemono (Meatballs in Egg-Lemon Sauce) on my housemates.