Travel Writing That's Earned A Place On My Bookshelf

“When I was very young and the urge to be someplace else was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever, and now that I’m fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked. Four hoarse blasts of a ship’s whistle still raise the hair on my neck and set my feet to tramping… I fear the disease is incurable.”

— John Steinbeck, Travels With Charley: In Search of America

Did you know John Steinbeck was also a travel writer?

I can’t recall who introduced me, but eventually his Travels With Charley made it onto my lengthy reading list. Upon opening it, the two-page intro spoke to all the crevices of my soul, and I was smitten.

Here was a giant of literary fiction reminding me that this restlessness to see the world, this affliction, has been with us for a long time, and that I’m not alone.

Published in 1962, just before the lost-innocence of the Kennedy assassination, Steinbeck recounts an epic road trip across the nation with his dog Charley in the early ’60s, giving us his thoughts on the ordinary folks, the common struggles and the America he’s seeing through his middle-aged eyes less than two decades after World War II.

I’ve come to admire and love this kind of travel writing. Those stories beyond a simple travel guide like Rick Steves or Lonely Planet, where a writer brings you along on an emotional journey.

Think Paul Theroux or Jan Morris, but hopefully not as dense.

Until I’d made travel a priority in my own life, this type of writing had the opposite effect, making me resentful, always comparing myself to the writer, bitter that I hadn’t pulled the trigger yet on choosing travel.

Now that I’ve crossed over and am a worthy convert, I know that travel will always be in my life, so I’m able to read about say Nepal or Australia and just learn, completely content I may never wander there myself.

If you’re a voracious book reader and lover too, you know the struggle — which are the select few books you’ll actually purchase, hold onto and display on the bookcase because you sincerely hope you’ll actually have time to come back to them?

What do you mean, Joe?!, I can hear some of you screaming. All of them, of course! The bookcases are overflowing here and I love it!

I’m happy for you, but in my library-visiting life I’ve opted to get most titles there first and then decide if it’s a title I need to own and put on the shelf.

Call it Starting Minimalism. Call it decluttering.

But hey, at least I still hold some. Many of you out there are Kindle all the way, baby, no physical books or music to weigh me down.

So in my cozy study, on one bookshelf, sit about seven or eight travel-themed books that spoke to me, that I hope to revisit.

A Walk in the Woods is probably the book the general public might associate with author Bill Bryson — it fits all the fun of a buddy journey, middle-aged bucket lists and grumblings, and the very real dangers when you put yourself on the line. And of course his sarcastic humor.

Truth be told I should probably own three to four more of Bryson’s works, because his bitchiness, the way he uses words to describe the denizens he encounters with such snobbery are just inappropriately funny. Neither Here Nor There, Notes From A Small Island and I’m a Stranger Here Myself also jump to my mind as favorites.

Yet, A Walk in the Woods is the one on my shelf — so as a writer, not just an admirer, I can reread and fully digest how Bryson writes the story, creating a movie-script-worthy narrative that appeals to the masses, not just us travel junkies.

In truth, I haven’t actually read the other book pictured above, Birding Without Borders. My partner Eddie is also a ravenous reader and incidentally has crossed over to being a birder!, god help us. That’s another whole essay for another time. So I snatched it up for him at the local Friends of the Library sale and he was tickled pink.

Based on the premise, I’m sure I’ll be all over it.

Frances Mayes is best known for Under the Tuscan Sun, which became a Hollywood movie smash, making many a woman of a certain age long to venture to Italy in search of her sexy Italian lover and ecstasy. But I prefer her book A Year In The World, as it covers multiple destinations including Greece, Spain, Turkey, the British Isles and even the travesties of excursions by cruise boat with relatives.

I read this before I’d ever stepped foot into Spain, before I ever dreamed I’d make it to Italy. As mentioned, the first reading made me roll my eyes and wonder how some people had these lives. Thankfully I’ve matured — and traveled — so now I can reread this with a better appreciation. And as I’m aiming for Croatia and Greece to be a next journey, I’ll be revisiting her impressions.

Speaking of envy, these next three books fall into the vein of we-bought-a-place-overseas and now are living the life you dream about. Blah, blah.

Yet, I couldn’t help but be moved by them and yes, inspired that this might just work for me. Tony Cohan’s On Mexican Time, though published in 2000, takes you back to 1985 when he and his partner Masako were some of the first gringos to ponder a full-time life in San Miguel de Allende — decades before it became an expat haven.

Chris Stewart’s Driving Over Lemons, published in 1999, recounts his exploits in buying property in Spain and adjusting to the lifestyle. And then there’s Living in a Foreign Language by Michael Tucker — yes, the same Michael Tucker from TV’s LA Law — who along with his LA Law wife, actress Jill Eikenberry, purchase a place in Umbria, Italy and began their journey into overseas life.

All old hat nowadays.

But these authors did all of this before the Internet, in same cases before proper email — before YouTube vlogers could show you live, self-produced images of a place daily. Which makes it all much more stepping into the unknown and brave for these pioneers who were doing something unheard of then when compared to the authors writing about this topic everyday on Medium now.

You’d be fortunate to surround yourself with what I like to call my Arsenal of Inspiration — physical books just an arm’s reach away — for those down days, when you need to be reminded of your passions and “your why.”

But it’s Eric Weiner’s The Geography of Bliss that tops my list and is one of my favorite travel-related books to recommend. In it, Weiner travels to some of the world’s so-called most and least-contented places to try and learn the secret to bliss that every self-described mope is looking for.

From the Netherlands to Switzerland to Bhutan to Qatar and Iceland, even Moldova, India and the United States, he takes you on a cultural exploration to truly ponder, why are certain countries’ citizens so much happier and content? Thanks to his humor it’s a great read that I recommend without reservation.

But any open-minded reader knows there’s always more out there.

What should be on my shelf of great travel writing books?

What’s on yours?

As honorable mentions I should highlight Laura Fraser’s All Over the Map and also Lynne Martin’s Home Sweet Anywhere, both of which may require future essays.

In a world of over-produced and slick YouTube travel videos and vlogs — which, don’t get me wrong, fully have their place and have helped us plan many an adventure — I’m still reverential for these pioneers who were taking the risky steps, putting themselves on the line and writing about travel before all the cool kids started doing it.

Thanks for reading words written by a human for human readers. This piece was originally published on Medium.com.