Book #5 - Bill Bryson's African Diary

How could any list of travel books not include one by Bill Bryson? Bill Bryson's African Diary, published in 2002, is the account of his journey to Kenya with members of CARE International. This book is only about 50 pages in length - you can read it in an evening. I feel a little guilty that I borrowed it from the library, as money from the sales of the book are passed on to CARE International, a charity that has many projects in Africa (as well as other countries) that share the aim of eradicating poverty. Since Kenya is one of the countries we hope to visit - let's hope things will have calmed down completely by then - I was curious to read of his experience.

In the opening chapter, Bryson describes how he was approached by the staff of CARE International to travel with them and write about some of their projects in Kenya. Being the very funny man that he is, he starts off by exaggerating his ignorance about the country, making references to Karen Blixen and the film Out of Africa. He brings to life the slums of Nairobi, the beauty of the Great Rift Valley, and the inspiring work of CARE in the refugee camps and with various agricultural projects. It's his wry take on the danger that sometimes surrounds him that shows him at his most hilarious. Here's a funny bit from when he and the CARE staff are en route to Nairobi from London (p. 8):

"An hour or so after we are airborne, by chance I come across an article in The Economist declaring Nairobi to be the new crime capital of Africa. My attention is particularly arrested by the disclosure that street children come up to cars waiting at traffic lights demanding money and if it's not given they rub balls of human excrement in the victim's face. I share this information with my new companions and we agree that Dan, as group leader, will be our designated "rubbee" for the week. Conveniently, Dan is in the lavatory when the matter is discussed and so the motion carries unanimously. In order not to spoil his enjoyment of Nairobi, we decide not to tell him of our decision until we see children advancing."

But here's my favourite excerpt - a description of the infamous train route between Nairobi and Mombasa (p. 21):

"In the early evening we made our way to the modestly grand central railway station in Nairobi to catch the overnight sleeper to Mombasa.

Kenyan Railways has something of a tradition of killing its passengers. In just the past decade, a little over 200 people have died in accidents on its trains. The accident that seems to have attracted the most publicity in recent years was one in 1999 when the overnight Nairobi-to-Mombasa train jumped the rails at an interesting sounding place called "Man Eaters Junction" in Tsavo National Park, killing 32 people.

The crew blamed brake failure. Kenyan Railways blamed the crew. No one really knows what happened. The following year another 30-plus people were killed in two accidents, both involving runaway trains, in the space of four days. The biggest disaster of all was when a train bound for Mombasa from Nairobi plunged off a bridge and into the "crocodile-infested" Ngai Ndeithya River, killing 140 people. Ngai Ndeithya means "God help us" in Kiswahili, which would seem to be a not inappropriate motto for the railway itself. Almost since the beginning, however, the train has been known as the Lunatic Express. Can't think why."

Fortunately for all of us, Bryson survived the trip and has continued writing great travel books. And no, Nana, we won't be taking your grandchildren on the overnight sleeper from Nairobi to Mombasa. We promise.

Book #6 - A Year in Provence

Proceeding at our glacial pace of travel book reviews, we now bring you a summary of A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle (1989). And by the way, we had a lovely Christmas and New Year's and we hope you did as well. Now we're back to work and school and the whole two weeks seems like a distant blur . . . I know, I know, it's always that way.

But back to France and the lovely region of Provence (not that we've been there mind you, but everyone seems to agree it's lovely). I have been pestering Ted to blog something - anything really - but he's been mired down with other projects. I believe he will blog when we're actually on our trip, but for now, I will have to settle on "interviewing" him to share with you his thoughts on this book. Not only has read the book but he has seen both movies inspired by it: the more literal "A Year in Provence" (BBC mini-series available as a 2-disc DVD set - you can rent it), and the Hollywood version, you know the one with the badly-cast Russell Crowe as the main character ("A Good Year", more of a loose adaptation of another Peter Mayle story - you can also rent it but don't bother). He's the last guy I would have picked for that role, but I'm not in the casting business so I'll just shut up about that now.

"A Year in Provence" tells the true story of Mayle's relocation to this southern region of France. Fed up with the cold, gray winters and damp summers of their native England, Mayle and his wife buy a property and set about restoring it and adjusting to their new life in France. The book is a series of short vignettes, a month-by-month account of their first year. In this way, the reader gets a rich sensory experience of each season, the sights of the changing landscape, the various mouth-watering feasts associated with different holidays and events, and the gradual development of friendships and routines that mark their progression from newcomers to locals. It's hard to know how to classify this book: autobiography, travelogue, cookbook/ restaurant guide, or cultural/historical reference book. I guess it's really all of these things which has no doubt contributed to its enduring popularity. But enough of my thoughts . . . let's ask Ted what he thinks . . . even though he's a bit preoccupied watching a big game between the Ottawa Senators and Detroit Red Wings (apparently it's an important game, I may have to wait for a break between periods :(

KE: What made you read this book?

TE: You signed it out at the library and said I should read it. Was that it? Actually I can't remember.

KE: Okaaay . . . what did you like best about this book?

TE: I liked the descriptions about the food and the stories about meeting the local people, with all their quirks and eccentricities. The writing is very good, it's very descriptive and detailed but it's not boring, it's animated. And the notion of fulfilling the fantasy of living in France, it's a very romantic notion, and you get to live it vicariously through the author.

KE: Absolutely! Can you show me a favourite passage?

TE: I think it's in January or February - near the beginning - they get invited to the neighbours' for a meal. It's one of the first, very exhaustive accounts of the food. It's amazing:

"It was a meal that we shall never forget; more accurately, it was several meals that we shall never forget, because it went beyond the gastronomic frontiers of anything we had ever experienced, both in quantity and length.

It started with homemade pizza - not one, but three: anchovy, mushroom and cheese, and it was obligatory to have a slice of each. Plates were then wiped with pieces torn from the two-foot loaves in the middle of the table, and the next course came out. There were pates of rabbit, boar, and thrush. There was a chunky, pork-based terrine laced with marc. There were saucissons spotted with peppercorns. There were tiny sweet onions marinated in a fresh tomato sauce. Plates were wiped once more and duck was brought in. The slivers of magret that appear, arranged in fan formation and lapped by an elegant smear of sauce on the refined tables of nouvelle cuisine - these were nowhere to be seen. We had entire breasts, entire legs, covered in a dark, savory gravy and surrounded by wild mushrooms.

We sat back, thankful that we had been able to finish, and watched with something close to panic as plates were wiped yet again and a huge, steaming casserole was placed on the table. This was the specialty of Madame our hostess - a rabbit civet of the richest, deppest brown - and our feeble requests for small portions were smilingly ignored. We ate it. We ate the green salad with knuckles of bread fried in garlic and olive oil, we ate the plump round crottins of goat's cheese, we ate the almond and cream gateau that the daughter of the house prepared. That night, we ate for England."

Love that last line. And the Elborns too shall eat, in the south of France, in 2009. We shall eat for Canada!