Bill Bryson's first travel book, The Lost Continent, was unanimously acclaimed as one of the funniest books in years. In Neither here Nor there he brings his unique brand of humour to bear on Europe as he shoulders his backpack, keeps a tight hold on his wallet, and journeys from Hamemrfest, the northernmost town on the continent, to istanbul on the cusp of Asia. Fluent in, oh, at least one language, he retraces his travels as a student twenty years before. Whether braving the homicidal motorists of Paris, being robbed by gypsies in Florence, attempting not to order tripe and eyeballs in a German restaurant, window-shopping in the sex shops of the Reeperbahn or disputing his hotel bill in Copenhagen, Bryson takes in the sights, dissects the culture and illuminates each place and person with his hilariously caustic observations. He even goes to Liechtenstein.Some of the hotela#39;s restaurants, bars and shops accepted only hard currency and some accepted only Bulgarian leva and ... This, I decided, would be my first port of call in the morning. ... Another shop sold nothing but two kinds of tins a yellow tins and green tins, stacked in their hundreds in neat pyramids on every shelf. ... Imagine coming home from work and your partner saying, a#39;Honey, guess what?
|Title||:||Neither Here, Nor There|
|Publisher||:||Random House - 2010-03-02|