Neither here Nor there - Travels in Europe (Chapters 1-5)

Journey Preparation (Summary)

'Neither here Nor there' details Bill Bryson’s haphazard journey through the Europe (well, some of it) of the 1990s.

(My words - it gets to the point, I feel. ;))

Or, perhaps better phrased:

'In Neither here Nor there [Bill Bryson] 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 Hammerfest, 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.' (via amazon)

Setting out on the Journey (Review) 

Yesterday I started reading Neither here Nor there (my first book by Bill Bryson – yaaay!) and to get one thing right out of the way: I’m enjoying it so far. Quite a lot actually.

The problem with most travel writing – particularly when it’s deemed to be ‘funny’ by the 100% (and don’t you dare doubt it!) objective criticism at the back – is that it’s often ... well … not funny. Like, at all. Actually more often than not it’s downright dull.

Well, not in the case of this book, thankfully. So far I’ve honestly found it an enjoyable read, with some passages even making me laugh out loud. (And believe me, I know that’s one of those oft-repeated never-true phrases on the back of book covers as well – but it’s honestly true for this book! Well, either it’s true or I have a weird sense of humour. Possibly both.) But to give you guys a taster, this is a (very accurate!) description of traffic in Paris:

‘This is what happens: you arrive at a square to find all the traffic stopped, but the pedestrian light is red and you know that if you venture so much as a foot off the kerb all the cars will surge forward and turn you into a gooey crepe. So you wait. After a minute, a blind person comes along and crosses the great cobbled plain without hesitating. Then a ninety-year-old lady in a motorized wheelchair trundles past and wobbles across the cobbles to the other side of the square a quarter of a mile away.

‘You are uncomfortably aware that all the drivers within 150 yards are sitting with moistened lips watching you expectantly, so you pretend that you don’t really want to cross the street at all, that actually you’ve come over here to look at this interesting fin-de-siècle lamppost. After another minute 150 pre-school children are herded across by their teachers, and then the blind man returns from the other direction with two bags of shopping. Finally, the pedestrian light turns green and you step off the kerb and all the cars come charging at you. And I don’t care how paranoid and irrational this sounds, but I know for a fact that the people of Paris want me dead.’ (p. 56-57)

… Okay, maybe that wasn’t laugh out loud funny for anyone who hasn’t experienced the madness of Parisian drivers first hand – and believe me, they really are mad. But my other choice would’ve involved bird poo and I want to retain at least a sliver of quality on this blog. At least for the first post.

It's not only an entertaining read though, but a rather educational one as well. Here are some things I have learned in these first few chapters, in no particular order:

• Dear Lord, do I hope Bryson was kidding when he wrote about the time it took to fly from the US to Europe in the 1970s - because if he wasn't ... then travelling to Europe must have taken around two weeks’ time, I kid you not O_O! Can that be right? I need to look that up … but if it’s true ... wow. God, I was going crazy this summer on the flight back from Beijing, which took around eight hours! So either claustrophobia didn’t exist in the 70s or planes back then must have come equipped with full-sized gyms. I’m putting my money on the latter.
• Hammerfest must be the coldest and dreariest town in all of Europe. It certainly sounds like the most isolated one. And the coldest. Have I mentioned the coldest? One thing I will definitely do though, if I ever get to go there:

   ‘I was about to turn back when I noticed a sign pointing the way to something called the Meridianstotten and decided to investigate. This took me down a lane on the seaward side of the headland. Here, wholly exposed to the pounding sea, the wind was even more ferocious. Twice it all but picked me up and carried me forward several yards. Only the toetips of my boots maintained contact with the ground. I discovered that by holding out my arms I could sail along on the flats of my feet, propelled entirely by wind.’ (p. 31)

     Now, how cool is that?? :D I’d be tempted to bring an umbrella to see if I could have a brief spell at being Mary Poppins (although I suspect instead of Mr Banks, I’d end up paying Poseidon a permanent visit).

•  I’d never heard of the Thomas Cook European Timetable – but it certainly sounds like a fascinating book. I wonder if it’s still around … maybe they’ve put it online by now, seeing as 'Neither here Nor there' was written in the 90s. To be honest though, I wonder how effective it really is/was – anyone who’s ever tried to plan a train journey through multiple European countries will know what I’m talking about xD. You just can’t. Trains are always delayed, or don’t stop at the stations you want them to – and then, when you have to change you typically get either five minutes or five hours for it. Fun times. (Actually it really is rather fun – if you’re not prone to temper fits when things don’t go your way and you end up stranded in a town you’d never even heard about ;)).
• In the 90s Paris spent 58 pounds a year a head on street cleaning, whereas London only spent 17. So, either the British are just cleaner or there has been a massive investment in the cleaning staff over the last two decades, because I don't see London as a particularly dirty city. O_O 
• Parisians have been perfecting the art of lunatic driving ever since the 18^th century – which puts the fact that poor Pierre Curie was run over by a carriage into a bit more perspective for me. 
• And finally: Brussels … oh Brussels. 

So, to conclude: I love this book so far! 

Quotes from:

Bryson, Bill. 1991. Neither here Nor there. Black Swan: London.