A sole woman's journey - pedalling across Europe and Asia, taken at the age of 31. The very description made me long to read this book. But considering the enthusiasm I had, the beginning proved quite a dampener. This book was not easily available in Indian markets and I finally got a copy from Flipkart after a long wait. And once I got my hands on it, I could barely wait to begin with it. However few chapters through the book, I was thoroughly disappointed to see that Dervla had finished writing about the first part of the journey from Ireland to Iran in just one chapter. Hardly any details were provided and there was minimum chronology. Random reminiscences formed this first chapter. And to be fair, she didn't really pedal all the way cuz of snow, as was the impression given from the description of the book.
Anyway, since I liked the authors spirit to take up such a trip in the first place, I persevered with the book and it did compensate for my disappointment. Iran onwards she has jotted down her experiences day by day like in a diary. So it was nice reading it. Like I have mentioned in my review for her Eight feet in Andes, she really does describe landscape very beautifully. She writes about the mountains with admirable reverence. I re read her illustrations, to appreciate the picture that they encompass. So am already smitten by the beauty of Afghanistan, even though I haven't seen it even in my dreams.
The first hand experience of life as was in 1960s in Iran, Afghanistan etc was quite interesting to read. Simple and primitive, with minimal needs. For a westerner it was quite a difference, with no "progress" yet, as Dervla likes to call it. She likes it that way - primitive. She loved Afghanistan and its people for its simplicity, the raw beauty and lack of any westernization so far. She considers herself lucky to have experienced Afghanistan in its true form before it gets influenced by the "West". My take - there are pros n cons for everything. So called "westernization" does bring in monotony and dilution of local cultures, but on the other hand it also brings in comfort and longevity in terms of medical supplies and facilities.
She lives amidst the locals, eats like the locals and it’s a wonder that she didn’t fall sick as often as one might, living in such unhygienic conditions. I mean imagine living with people who never ever wash and don’t know how water feels on skin. She does fall sick and fortunately for her, she also had acquaintance with the top shots as well. So after spending time in the remotest of places she could recuperate with the maharajas and ministers of the state. She has cycled through all kinds of terrain and difficult ones for that matter: mountains, dessert, plains: and extremes of weather, snow to super hot. At many places she carried her cycle instead of cycling it. Her endurance is commendable.
Sadly she didn’t write anything good about India. Not that she has written much about it. Her journey ended when she reached Delhi after crossing Punjab. Her experience started with eve teasing, followed by insensitive and in general formal cold people, lacking any warmth. Not to mention the filth and traffic even in those times. In Dervla’s own words “The standard of driving is appalling and I cycle in constant expectation of a premature demise”.
Overall loved reading about her journey. Some excerpts from the book:
“I have been long enough in the East now to have forgotten how to feel impatient”
“The more I see of unmechanized places and people the more convinced I become that machines have done incalculable damage by unbalancing the relationship between man and nature."
“The complete unbroken solitude and the absence of anything recalling the rest of humanity produce a unique feeling of liberation as on moves slowly through these tremendous gorges.”
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