Paramédico by Benjamin Gilmour

Paramédico: Around the World by Ambulance by Benjamin Gilmour
Copyright 2012
The Friday Project (an imprint of HarperCollins)
Originally published 2011 in Australia by Pier 9 (an imprint of Murdoch Books Pty Ltd.)
Source: Purchased

Cynicism among paramedics in Australia is so entrenched that Pip James, a former lecturer at the ambulance education centre in Sydney, used to insist her students write themselves a letter immediately after employment. This letter would outline the students' motives for joining the job, the way they perceived the profession and a description of the paramedics they hoped to become. The letters were then sealed and only opened again once they had returned to the school after a year on the road. As expected, the students squirmed horribly when reading their earlier sentiments. But many also learnt how insidiously tainted they had become.

It's easier to avoid cynicism, however, when patients present with genuine and pressing needs, when the service is not abused. Ambulance workers in the West generally agree that the level of disgruntlement in their job is directly proportional to the number of time-wasters they attend. When customers call for a lift to the shops, for a drink of water, for a blanket when cold, it's no surprise. If customers reserved calling ambulances for serious injuries and acute illnesses only, frustration and cynicism among paramedics would probably decline accordingly. 

~p. 164

The purchase of Paramédico was one of those cases of "One book leads to another." First, I came across my old copy of The Paramedics and decided I wanted to read it, again, because I've been watching old reruns of the cult classic show Emergency!  Then, I happened across Rescue by Anita Shreve -- again, whilst unloading boxes of books and organizing my home library. I'm not even quite sure how I came across Paramédico, to be honest, but since I purchased it from an online bookstore I'm guessing that I just happened to be looking up something entirely different and thought, "Hmm, I wonder if there are any new titles about paramedics." It's an old obsession; I have quite a little collection of books about EMS and a handful of novels with paramedic heroes.

Paramédico is quite different from the other books I've read because it's not just about being a paramedic and what it's like; it's about the experiences of a paramedic who traveled around the world working with other paramedics, doctors, nurses and some lesser qualified medics while, at times, filming them. There's a film by the same name. I have yet to locate a DVD that will work in the U.S. but you can purchase Paramédico on demand at Vimeo, so I may give in and do that. I really would like to see the film.

The book is absolutely fascinating, as much (possibly more) from a cultural perspective as the stories of field medicine in action. After reading The Paramedics, I'd been wondering what emergency medical services are like in other countries and I could not have chosen a more fascinating peek into the differences in how ambulances are dispatched and staffed, what supplies are carried, what is expected of medics by patients in different countries. Expectation was something I had not thought about, actually, that in some places the expectation -- of pain relief or the lack of it, for example -- is completely different. Can you imagine an American accepting a vitamin shot or a valium injection for just about everything? Isn't it beyond fathoming that there's a country where the ambulances carry no drugs at all? Valium, vitamin shots, no medication, a ride on a floating ambulance that makes you queasy but lacks disposable vomit bags . . . those are options in other places.

One thing that seems to be a constant wherever you go is abuse of the system, something that baffles me because the last thing I can imagine anyone desiring is a ride in an ambulance or a visit to an emergency room, especially for no good reason. I'd have to be near death to end up in either (that's happened once -- I was in bad enough shape that I have almost no memory of it, which is fine by me).

Paramédico begins with an introduction and a chapter about the author's first posting in the Australian Outback. After you get to know the author's Australian background, he takes you on a journey around the world with stops in South Africa, England, the Philippines, Macedonia, Thailand, Pakistan, Iceland, Italy, the U.S. (Hawaii) and Mexico. His travels took place over quite a few years and it's been a few years since publication, so things may have changed in some of the countries he visited; Gilmour does make that perfectly clear. But, you still get a unique perspective on various cultures that likely have not altered much. I think that's what I loved most about the book. It had the feel of a travelogue but from a unique perspective, that of each country's emergency services.

The biggest problem most readers will probably have with Paramédico is that you need a strong stomach to read some of the medical scenes. I have no problem with that, possibly because of the stories my father used to tell about his time as a Navy Corpsman on a hospital ship. The reality is another thing entirely, I'm sure.

Highly recommended - A well-written peek into EMS in 11 different countries. Medical professionals of all kinds will appreciate the stories of situations and treatment but it's the cultural perspective that really makes Paramédico an excellent book; and, it's very well written. If you can read about messy medical situations without getting queasy, it's a book that I highly recommend.

One note: The author is not particularly complimentary to Americans. That didn't bother me. I think it's good to read about what people think of us in other countries and to get an outside viewpoint of where and how we (or the politicians who represent us) may be causing trouble for others.

Is this the last link in my latest round of chain-reading? Nope, I noticed a couple other books I'm pretty sure I haven't gotten around to reading during last week's work on the library (both novels with paramedic heroes, I think). So, I'll keep sliding in an EMS read, now and then. It will be hard to beat Paramédico. I hope Benjamin Gilmour will write more about his experiences, in the future.

©2014 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery  or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Monday Malarkey - In which Tennessee welcomes us

Sorry for my absence.  I meant to pre-post a Fiona Friday photo but forgot to do so before we left for Northern Mississippi and Tennessee to stay in our "vacation home" (aka "Kiddo's apartment), visit with Eldest, DIL and grand-dog Peyton, attend a Straight No Chaser concert, shop a bit, spend another night in our vacation home and drive home in really yucky weather.  We had a blast, really.  Nashville has grown on me in recent years.

Straight No Chaser allowed photographs!  That was a nice surprise.  I just happen to have tucked a D-SLR in my purse, just in case, although I really expected a stern, "No photography!" announcement.  I didn't mess with settings because I tried to keep the amount of camera viewscreen light to a minimum for the sake of those around me, but the changing lights might have made settings difficult, anyway.  So . . . here are the singers grooving, overexposed, and slightly blocked by the head of hair I couldn't quite get my lens around:

Our grand-dog is currently undergoing heart worm treatment and not a happy camper.  But, she looked regal, as always, except when decapitating and removing the limbs of a stuffed monkey.  Poor monkey had been removed, by this point, although some of his stuffing remained next to her paws.

We got to briefly walk through the Nashville Public Library, on our way to the concert.  Oh, wow.  I definitely want to go back and wander around there, sometime.

We did a good bit of shopping, almost entirely for groceries (with a few last-minute Christmas gift items).  Both of us get a little carried away in terrific grocery stores, so we came back with quite a few boxes, jars and plenty of fresh produce from Trader Joe's, an Italian market called Coco's and a little from Whole Foods.  Isabel was most impressed with the fresh pears . . . to the point that I had to remove them from her grasp.

And, about Bookfoolery . . . the blog and the concept . . . I've been thinking about dropping the words "and Babble" for quite a while and removed them from my header, last night.  What do you think? I also considered changing, "and Babble" to "and Catfoolery".  Eh.  Not sure.  The babble was just starting to bug me.  As to the foolery, not a whole lot of reading occurred, this week, thanks to all the driving.  But, I have some books in progress and hope to finish something soon.  Not sure what I'll end up finishing, since I keep leaping from one book to another.  We shall see.  I got a couple books in the mail and bought some in Oxford at Off-Square Books.  I'll photograph them and share the titles, later in the week.  Tomorrow, I have some children's Christmas books to review.

Speaking of children, I had no idea that yet another school massacre had occurred on Friday until 11:30, that night.  Since there have been murmurs of poor, inaccurate and offensive media coverage, I am happy to have missed seeing anything on TV.  Not seeing the visuals doesn't change the facts, though, and when I found out, my first thought (after the initial stunned disbelief) was relief that I didn't post the normal Fiona Friday pic. It just wouldn't have seemed right to post something light-hearted on day that involved so much horror and grief.  My heart goes out to the parents, friends, loved ones and victims of the Newtown murders.  I'm not a political person but I think we've gone far beyond the time to take serious preventive action in the U.S., as stated in this New York Times op-ed.  Please don't be put off by the beginning of the article.  It's very logically stated.

More later.  It's almost 3am.  I have no idea why I'm so hyper, but I need to try to get some sleep.  Happy Monday to all!


©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

The Longest Way Home by Andrew McCarthy

The Longest Way Home: One Man's Quest for the Courage to Settle Down
By Andrew McCarthy
Copyright 2012
Free Press - Travel Memoir
273 pp.


A few more vestiges of Iquitos's glory days line Prospero Street, but there is little else to point toward any immediate appeal.  Despite this, the hanging heat and dense folds of humidity, there's a shaggy-dog charm to Iquitos.  There is nothing here that is remotely reminiscent of my life back home--none of the threadbare shops, or primitive advertising, or restaurants have a familiar or even recognizable feeling about them.  Such an alien sensation is increasingly rare in a world heading toward homogenization.  The only thing familiar in this environment is me; consequently, I am acutely aware of my own thoughts, which in moments like this run toward a feeling of possibility.  I wish I were staying in town for longer, possibly much longer.

~ p. 71 of The Longest Way Home ("The Amazon" chapter)

I almost passed up the opportunity to read and review The Longest Way Home, but I kept returning to the email about it, reading the description until I wore myself down with longing . . . thank goodness.  The best of any memoirs are written with a blend of wide-eyed wonder and humility, with stories about interaction between traveler and locals as well as description that makes the reader want to jump up and start packing.  Andrew McCarthy's memoir is all that and much more. 

From the publisher's description:

"Unable to commit to his fiancee of nearly four years--and with no clear understanding of what's holding him back--Andrew McCarthy finds himself at a crossroads, plagued by doubts that have clung to him for a lifetime.  Something in his character has kept him always at a distance, preventing him from giving himself wholeheartedly to the woman he loves and from becoming the father that he knows his children deserve.  So before he loses everything he cares about, Andrew sets out to look for answers.

Hobbling up the treacherous slopes of Mt. Kilimanjaro, dodging gregarious passengers aboard an Amazonian riverboat, and trudging through dense Costa Rican rain forests--Andrew takes us on exotic trips to some of the world's most beautiful places, but his real journey is one of the spirit."

I'm not going to copy the entire jacket description . . . 

. . . but, in a nutshell, The Longest Way Home is the story of how one man chose to seek the answer to why he was having difficulty committing and attempt to conquer his fears by escaping to his favorite comfort zone: travel.  Probably the first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of traveling in order to develop courage is, "Isn't that called running away from your problems?" But, the author makes a strong case for travel as a way to get in touch with one's feelings.

Later, I sit by the estancia in the afternoon sun, and take pictures down by the river, and watch birds picking at the grass.  I can imagine myself staying here for a long time, alone and content, at the end of the world.  

I have found several places in my travels where I've experienced a similar sensation--the bare and rocky Burren in the rural west of Ireland, on a remote northern coast of Brazil, in central Wyoming, and at an unlikely spot in Hawaii.  Places where I felt received by the land, where my perception of the world and of my place in it fell into sync.  I recognize that sense of belonging instantly.  

~p. 59  (the "Patagonia" chapter)

Why I loved The Longest Way Home:

Andrew McCarthy's writing is strong, evocative and emotional. But, I think part of the reason I truly loved his book is the fact that not only was I entertained but I also deeply related on more that one level. I understand that feeling of connecting to the land and the people of another place more than one's own home, for one thing.

And, I just happened to be married to a fellow who has a very similar personality to that of the author: introverted and solitary, more at home traveling than sitting still, heedless of potential danger in a way that allows him to experience new places fully, driven and successful.  McCarthy explains how he can be both a solitary person and completely devoted to family -- something that's really tough to get across to friends to whom I explain the frustrations of being an extrovert married to a man of few words and with practically no need for human contact.

Apart from all that, I simply loved experiencing new places through Andrew McCarthy's eyes.  While he isn't a person who thrives in a group situation, that doesn't mean he's socially inept -- just more of a one-on-one/small group person. He often connects with people in unexpected, sometimes uplifting, often surprising ways.  Even when he describes being irritated with someone, his reasons tend toward the rational rather than the self-indulgent.

As I was reading The Longest Way Home, I enjoyed my armchair travels so much that as I settled in to read, each night, I told my husband, "I'm in Patagonia, right now," or "I'm off to the Amazon, next," etc.  Each time I opened the book, I knew I was going to be happily immersed.  And, that's really saying something.  Since our move, I've been so weary at the end of the day that it's a rare book that captures me.  I've only managed to read 3 books, so far, in November [muffled scream].

The bottom line:

Excellent travel writing with a nice, personal theme, Highly Recommended.  I absolutely loved The Longest Way Home.  A likable author, funny and tolerant fiancee and two sweet children make the author's story of putting his past into perspective and facing his fear of commitment one that makes the reader feel truly invested in a happy ending.  Admittedly, I was a little teary when I closed the book. The places he visited were often off the beaten path -- not the touristy parts of Costa Rica, for example. Andrew McCarthy now holds the distinction of being the first travel writer to successfully convince me that Patagonia is worth looking into.  I've always thought of Patagonia as a place for single guys in North Face jackets and Teva shoes -- you know, Ivy League college guys looking for adventure. Somehow, he managed to make Patagonia sound accessible.

Side note:  

Some may know Andrew McCarthy as the "Brat Pack" heartthrob of Eighties fame who appeared in Pretty in Pink, St. Elmo's Fire and Weekend at Bernie's.  He is still acting and does talk about his career; it's a part of his life story and relevant to the book.  So, if you're a fan, you might be interested in the book for that reason alone.  But, more importantly, he knows both how to tell a story and how to write.  Don't be put off if you tend to avoid books by actors.

About that connection to the land:

One of the places I feel almost bizarrely at home is the site of an iron-age fortress called Barbary Castle in Wiltshire, UK.  I love everything about it: the earthworks that still clearly outline the fortress, the incredible 360-degree view, the sheep, the brisk wind -- even the cranky farmer who made us wait for him to feed his geese before springing us when we got locked into the parking lot.  Is there a place you feel at home away from home?

Some interesting links:

Usually, I'm not fond of book trailers but I do love the book trailer for The Longest Way Home.

And, I enjoyed this interview:  Alec Baldwin interviewing Andrew McCarthy on Here's the Thing.

In other news:

Fiona Friday #Fail.  Can I just claim another busy weekend?  Here's a very belated photo of Isabel playing with the drawstring of my new fleece pajamas (which I purchased because our heater has been out for nearly a week -- not all that big a problem here, although pajamas made of blanket material are definitely helpful on the coldest nights).

Sorry about the unfinished version of this review that I accidentally posted.  One of my twitter friends suggested I just call it a "preview".  :)

Absolutely no books at all entered my house for another week . . . and then today three of them walked in the door:

Aesop's Fables, illustrated by Charles Santore - a surprise from Sterling Kids
Surviving Paradise by Peter Rudiak-Gould - from Paperback Swap
Paranormalcy by Kiersten White - from Paperback Swap


©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Travel Tales of London, Part 4

On our third day in London, we went to Greenwich, partly because we wanted to go to the antiques market, which is much like Portobello Road but on a dramatically smaller scale. The market turned out to be a bit of a dud, I suppose because March isn't peak tourist season and, thus, there were only a handful of vendors. But we love Greenwich, so that was no big deal.

You know I'm going to tell you I went into that store. Of course I did. But, I only bought one book: A Fighting Spirit by Paul Burns!!! Just one!!! I will not tarnish my halo by telling you how I managed to limit myself to one book.

The first thing we did in Greenwich was trudge off to search for a pub Huzzybuns had read about, The Greenwich Union, and we found it easily but discovered it was too early for lunch, in spite of the fact that we got a late start (thanks to our first late evening at the theatre). So, we took a nice, long walk up through the park above the observatory, stopping to take the occasional picture of the clouds, a weather vane shaped like a ship, a church spire, the city.

It was also a good time and place to practice with the fisheye lens because there weren't many people around. I've never seen so few people at the observatory.

Although the observatory museum is interesting, we've been there and have photos of our feet in two different time zones (one of those obligatory tourist photos, haha) so we just walked around in the open areas.

I was looking at some daffodils through the viewfinder of my camera (while moving -- a very blonde thing to do) outside the observatory when I stepped a little off the path and pitched forward, toward the daffodils I was getting ready to photograph. Huzzybuns grabbed my coat and I put out a hand, so between the two of us we managed to keep Bookfool from flattening the flowers. Peripherally, I noticed that the security guard jumped just a bit and I wondered if he was going to rescue me or chew me out if I fell into the garden.

Sometimes it's very entertaining being a klutz.

We heard this little fellow singing in Greenwich (author Bob Tarte, who is an avid birder, kindly informed me that it's a robin) and I must admit that his portrait turned out to be one of my absolute favorite Greenwich photos.

After we'd walked around for an hour or so, we headed back to the pub. I had aubergine (eggplant) and mozzarella lasagna with a half pint of cider. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. It was the most cheesy, melty, wonderful thing. I drool just looking at the photo.

I even drank all my hard cider. Boy, was I stuffed. Definitely try The Greenwich Union if you're ever in the London area.

We roamed around town a good bit and then returned to the Sloane Square area to wander and pick up our supper. In the evening we saw Lang Lang, a Chinese pianist, play at the Royal Albert Hall. You're not supposed to take photos in the Royal Albert, but after the concert ended, everyone started snapping away.

This is just a point-and-shoot shot because we didn't take the nice D-SLR along, so it's heavily cropped and kind of sucky, but whatever. Lang Lang is standing by the piano, with flowers in his arms. I would have been perfectly happy if the orchestra had kept right on playing without him, but he's pretty impressive. The critics kind of hated him. He's a bit showy. I didn't mind that. I just closed my eyes and listened. We were too far away to see much, anyway.

Greenwich is always relaxing, so it was a low-key day. I took a lot more pictures of daffodils and one of those is the shot I used to make my little Easter egg photo at dumpr.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Travel Tales of London, Part 3

On our second full day in London, we began with a visit to the Victoria & Albert Museum, which was just about a 10-minute walk from the flat. But, first . . . breakfast:

Here, you see that milk from only Jersey & Guernsey cows, the gluten-free meusli I ate almost every day (we timed it just right -- one box lasted a week) and apricot yogurt! I love the un-sweet European type of meusli that makes you feel like you're eating bird seed (very pure food). There was some dried fruit in this brand, so it was naturally sweetened but not sickly sweet. Yogurt and meusli is my standard breakfast in England, often with one of those little boiled eggs in a cup. On to the V & A. The Victoria & Albert Museum is so huge that you can return numerous times without repeating the view. It was new to husband, though, so we did cover a little of the same territory I saw last year, like the casting rooms.

One of the areas that was new to me, though, was the Theatre & Performance Collection, which included a First Folio of Shakespeare's plays.

(No flash was used; don't worry.) I didn't photograph the sign, but I'm pretty sure it said this First Folio was disintegrating and carefully salvaged. Looks like it. Restored or not, I thought seeing pages from the original Shakespeare work was awfully exciting. There were also costumes from various theatre productions, models of sets and descriptions of how they were created, along with a continually-running film of clips from various London plays. We walked through the ironwork gallery, admired medieval woodwork salvaged from homes, twisted our way through a maze of statues. Then, we grabbed some sandwich wraps and drinks and ate lunch in the courtyard. I could gush about our perfect weather, but I think the sky makes a statement all its own.

After our visit to the V & A, we went to Persephone Books. You already know how that turned out! I'll be reviewing my first read from that stack, soon: Operation Heartbreak by Duff Cooper. I'll photograph the Persephone Book and bookmark, since I couldn't find an image online. Love the exit signs in the tube. "Way out," makes me think in Hippie. "Far out, man."

After Bloomsbury, we dashed over to Piccadilly to fetch our tickets for "One Man, Two Guvnors", then on to Green Park to buy tea (because our host had yucky tea) at Fortnum & Mason, a jar of jelly babies for Kiddo (a Dr. Who fan -- Tom Baker used to always hold out a handful of candy and say, "Jelly baby?") and our favorite sandlewood soap at Taylor of Old Bond Street.

We headed home for dinner and then went to see "One Man, Two Guvnors," which was delightful. The woman next to me said, "Oy, oy, oy, oy!" during the funniest portions. I got a kick out of that. There was an article in the Guardian about keeping the play "full English" on Broadway and I must say, I agree with all my heart that the script should not be messed with. There were words I didn't catch because it takes time to get used to the Queen's English (as opposed to our American versions) but "One Man, Two Guvnors" is a very British play and I hope that it will not be watered down on Broadway. It's Englishness is a major part of the fun.

After the play, we trudged down to Trafalgar Square to make some attempts at taking night photos of double-decker buses, lights, police cars in action, etc. Suffice it to say, I still have some learning to do with my new camera, but I did get a few shots I liked, including this one of two police cars and a cyclist rushing past Trafalgar Square. I don't even feel safe cycling in my own neighborhood in the daylight! It's quite amazing to watch people pedaling in London traffic, day and night.

This was Monday night. I finished up Kitty Cornered and read a bit of Fever before falling asleep. From this point on, I had a bit less reading time because our evenings were taken up with theatre and a concert, but I still did manage to squeeze a little reading time into each day. That is always a big thrill when it happens. Usually, I don't read much at all on vacations and I credit the quiet and comfort of the flat for making reading possible. I'll share more about our vacation in a few days. Storms have shut me down a few times, so I have a little catch-up book reviewing to do. May your Wednesday be full of wahoos!

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Travel Tales of London, Part 2

I've decided to go with a day of travel chatter between each book review, since I only have a few book reviews to catch up on (and those might end up being minis -- we shall see).

In Tuesday's post about book purchases, I mentioned that our flights to London had to be altered and our luggage didn't arrive with us. All three flights were exceptionally smooth, though, and we carry extra outfits and necessities to ensure that a luggage delay is not a total disaster. The man we talked to about retrieving our luggage was extremely courteous and competent -- and not having our wheeled bags meant not having to drag them through the tube! Wahoo! We arrived at our borrowed flat in Knightsbridge, bathed and rested before taking a walk around the neighborhood and through Harrod's, where a woman was singing opera in a formal gown on one of the balconies next to the Egyptian escalators. In the evening, I finished reading The Land of Decoration.

I must tell you about our funny moment when we arrived at the building. We knew the flat was a 3rd-floor walk-up (no lift) but there were no names on either the buzzer or the doors and when we arrived, we realized neither of us had bothered to inquire whether our host was referring to "3rd floor" in the British or American sense. What Americans refer to as the 1st floor is, of course, the "ground floor" in the UK. I guessed our host meant 3rd floor, British style, but Huzzybuns was uncertain and tried the key in the door of the 3rd floor flat, American style, very quietly. Nope. It was the next flat up (we were in a narrow building with only one flat per level). I counted 65 steps to the flat. Hopefully, we burned plenty of calories, last week.

On Sunday morning, the 18th, we had planned to head to Windsor Castle. But, since we weren't staying at a hotel and there was no doorman to accept our luggage from the courier, it was necessary to stick pretty close to "home" so we could dash back to the flat if we got a text saying our luggage was on its way. So, instead, we headed for Trafalgar Square and walked through the National Gallery for a bit. Most of Trafalgar Square was roped off for a St. Patrick's Day concert so I wasn't able to get a wide-angle view of Trafalgar, as I'd hoped -- just some side views, as above. That just means we have to return, right? I bought my copy of Fever by Lauren DeStefano in the Waterstone's at Trafalgar Square and husband bought Tea at Fortnum & Mason.

After eating lunch in the National Gallery (museum food is excellent in London), we walked past Charing Cross down to the Thames and across the bridge. We sauntered along the embankment, past the London Eye and enjoyed watching street performers. There was a very happy, celebratory crowd along the embankment, as Sunday was apparently the official day to celebrate St. Patrick's. Like typical tourists, we took a dozen shots of Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament as we crossed back over the Thames.

From the embankment, we headed back on the tube to Knightsbridge and went to the Saatchi Gallery, which was recommended to me by a Twitter friend when I asked for recommendations to keep us occupied in the Knightsbridge area. We are officially in love with the Saatchi Gallery. It's a bright, cheerful, funky place. I hope you can enlarge this photo to see the look on the face of the man in the green shirt:

We walked through Partridge's of Sloane Square (a very pretty little grocery store) and sat in the Duke of York Square, watching small children on scooters and enjoying the atmosphere before heading back to the flat for a rest.

In the evening, we took a walk to the Royal Albert Hall to orient ourselves, since we were going to a concert at the Royal Albert, later on. It's a beautiful building, all lit up at night, isn't it?

We discovered we'd taken a longer route than necessary and returned to the flat a different way. Either way, the Royal Albert was just a 15- to 20-minute walk. Not bad at all. On the way back to the flat, we stopped to pick up dinner at a local grocery store.

We've seen the pre-made, easy-cook dinners they carry in English grocery stores, in the past, but haven't stayed in a place with an oven. So, it was really a treat to choose our evening meals, each day. On the first night, we had a lamb pie with squash casserole and salad. The second night, we chose this "Salmon and Brie en Croute," which we paired with a mushroom risotto that was out of this world.

Oh, my goodness that was heavenly. Why don't we have meals that taste home-cooked like this in our grocery stores? It was amazing. For breakfast each day, we had gluten-free meusli with milk from "only pure Jersey or Guernsey cows" and apricot yogurt, most days, which also had me wondering what on earth we do to our American cows. The difference in milk products between here and the UK is astounding.

By the time we'd eaten dinner, we were pretty much wiped out, although it was still fairly early. I read a bit of Kitty Cornered before caving in. I found that I was able to relax and read in the flat in a way that I'm seldom able to do in a hotel room, which was obviously a big bonus! More about our travels in a couple days.

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Vacation purchases

These are most of my vacation book purchases. You might recall that I was on a book-buying ban till vacation. I think I fulfilled my quota, although I didn't find a couple titles I was looking for, which is fine. One of them is The Lifeboat by Charlotte Rogan, which I heard about on Twitter over a month ago. It's apparently already available in the U.S. and I'm still eager to read it, but I've placed myself back on a book-buying ban, indefinitely. I have far too many books to read and need to stop buying them. Vacation was special. Enough for now.

Above:

Outside In by Maria V. Snyder

Operation Heartbreak by Duff Cooper

A House in the Country by Jocelyn Playfair

Manja by Anna Gmeyner

Doreen by Barbara Noble

Consider the Years by Virginia Graham

Above:

Tea at Fortnum & Mason

A Fighting Spirit by Paul Burns

Forgotten Voices of the Blitz and the Battle for Britain by Joshua Levine

Voices from the Titanic, ed. by Geoff Tibballs

The Great British Book of Baking

Not pictured:

Fever by Lauren DeStefano (which I bought because it was available in paperback in the UK)

Dr. Who: Step Back in Time by Dungworth & Rayner

Oh, sorry. I didn't even mention where we went. We were in London. A tremendous opportunity to stay in the flat of a man my husband works with was offered to us and we jumped at the chance to spend a week in our favorite city with no lodging costs (except, of course, for the thank you gift we left our host). I'll tell you a little bit about each day because it was definitely an interesting trip. We chose the less expensive tickets with 3 legs, each direction, to save a few hundred dollars. That turned out to be a bit of a problem as we didn't have a lot of layover time between our second and third flights and when the first leg was delayed by over an hour, it meant we were going to miss our flight to Boston. Husband ran back and forth, getting the full pat-down in security twice, to make alternative arrangements and we ended up going from Jackson to Atlanta, Atlanta to D.C.'s Dulles and finally Dulles to London via British Airways, rather than our original carrier. We had to hustle through Dulles to catch the international flight.

As it turned out, British Airways was not expecting us and warned that they had to ask permission to board us. We were also told they might possibly not have enough food to feed us meals. Nor would we be able to sit together. No problem, we said. We just wanted to get there. It took them less than 5 minutes to say, "You're fine; still not sure about the food. Here are your new boarding passes." From then on, all was well and we were even fed. Except . . . our luggage didn't make it. More on that, later. I think I'll just share stories here, since I seem to be unable or unwilling to maintain a separate travel blog, at the moment. Obviously I went to Persephone Books:

The photo is out of order, chronologically, but since this post is mostly about the books, I figure it fits. I'll plan on mixing travel stories and book reviews for a while. This blog can stand a change of pace, don't you think?

©2012 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Radio Shangri-La by Lisa Napoli

Radio Shangri-La by Lisa Napoli

Copyright 2010

Crown - Nonfiction/Travel Memoir

279 pages

I longed for a way of life in which people made it a priority to look into each other's eyes and communicate, soul-to-soul, uninterrupted, like in that Zulu warrior greeting we'd practiced in happiness class. I yearned for meandering conversations about all things important, all things banal. Bhutan, I imagined, might be as close as you could get on earth to what I'd been craving--a real, live, actual community, where being wired took a backseat to being present, face-to-face, experiencing the here and now.

--p. 42 of Radio Shangri-La, Advanced Reader Copy (Some changes may have been made to the final print version)

What's it about?

Author Lisa Napoli, who works in public radio in Los Angeles, was having a midlife crisis when an encounter with a handsome stranger led to an opportunity to work as a volunteer at Bhutan's first radio station. Bhutan is known as "the happiest place on earth" and they like to measure their success in Bhutan using the words "Gross National Happiness," as opposed to the typical Gross Domestic Product. The quote above tells you what she hoped to find.

What did Bookfool think?

While Radio Shangri-La was not entirely what I expected as it lacked the sort of adventure I thought the author might encounter in a little-known Himalayan country, this rather introspective look at a nation in transition from remote, incommunicado nation to more modern, connected and city-oriented environment was fascinating.

The author's personal crisis and thoughts about life and love were relevant but somewhat less interesting. One thing I loved: the author is not arrogant. In fact, Napoli is quite humble and a very likable narrator, a nice person if a bit confused. We're in agreement that cellphones, the internet and other technological doohickeys have gotten in the way of real life and relationships. We both miss eye contact, meals and conversations without an interruption to read an email or answer a mobile call and quiet evenings without television. I don't agree with her about everything she has to say, though. For example, she is (or was) middle-aged, single and cynical. She makes comments like, "Love isn't forever" (not a direct quote). I personally believe the character of love changes over time, but it's possible to remain in love for your entire life. Some people really do still love each other after 50 years together.

What I'm not going to tell you:

What the author learned and how she came to appreciate her life. You have to read the book to get that part. And, I think it's worth the time.

The bottom line:

An easily digestible, fascinating look at a country most readers probably know little about and its first foray into radio. For my part, I'd heard of Bhutan and was correct about its approximate location . . . but even that was actually a wild guess, so I enjoyed learning about a country that was new to me. Lacking in adventure but fascinating for its analysis of the people and the time, at times uneven but overall a decent memoir. I particularly recommend Radio Shangri-La to readers who love to learn about new places and/or enjoy memoirs. My thanks to Crown/Random House for the review copy pictured at left.

Update, Thursday afternoon: I couldn't find the image of the final print version when I was writing my review, last night, so I just loaded the pic of my ARC (which I'd already photographed). I've since taken the time to fetch the final image at the author's request.

Back to what I wrote on Wednesday night . . .

Why I'm writing in this weird new format:

It's a temporary thing. I'm trying to be brief because of time constraints. Plus, my feet are freezing, so I'm hurrying to finish, then I'll run to get socks. Okay, forget that. I'm just going to get myself some socks right now. Done! They're apple green with pink and white polka-dots, in case you're curious.

So, back to the format . . . Much as everyone seemed to love my review of The Girl Who Chased the Moon, there's a limit to just how casual I'm willing to write reviews on a regular basis, so I'll probably get back to my normal chatty but analytical format in a couple weeks. I'm feeling overwhelmed, this week, though. Some weeks are like that.

If I have time:

Tomorrow I'll run downtown to the Vicksburg waterfront to take a picture or two. I was there on Sunday and I think it will be fun, if sobering, to see how fast the Mississippi River is rising. On the other hand, I may not even be able to shoot a picture to compare. The dock is fully blocked from entrance in anticipation of the expected rise in water level. Well, we'll just see what I can or can't photograph.

Flooding seems to be taking a backseat to arguments about Osama and Obama in the national news, but Kiddo dropped by church and happened across preparations by the Red Cross. Our church is one of 6 or 7 local buildings that are used as shelters by the Red Cross in times of disaster. Look up "1927 Mississippi flood" at Google Images if you're curious about the flood to which the growing disaster is being compared. Here's one:

Image Source

Gotta go. My feet are still cold. I think I'll stick them under a blanket and read for a while.

©2011 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery and Babble or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

The Lunatic Express by Carl Hoffman

The Lunatic Express by Carl Hoffman
Copyright 2010
Broadway Books - Nonfiction/Travel/Memoir
290 pages
The Lunatic Express website

I got my copy of The Lunatic Express from Goodreads! First time that's ever happened. I chose to attempt to win a copy because I love travel memoirs and the crazier, the better. I love reading about people who are daring enough to go places I would never go, myself.

The Lunatic Express is about one man's decision to travel the world using the worst possible travel modes available -- not to risk his life, but to see how the rest of the world travels.

It was primarily a mid-life crisis that led Hoffman to the idea of traveling on buses that drive too fast around dangerous cliffs with bald tires and routinely plummet over the edges, boats known to sink and planes and trains that are rusty and so poorly scheduled that one might have to wait three days for them to even show up. Hoffman is a travel writer and he needed to work something out of his system. It seems like a strange way to work through a mid-life crisis but he likes being amongst the natives, so to speak, learning about other cultures and meeting people.

What I think you really get out of this book is an understanding of why people use such dangerous transportation in other countries and just how horrendous it is. You learn about the aching poverty, the customs and kindness of strangers and how people interact when they're forced into extremely tight proximity. You also learn about our world's dwindling resources from those who've watched rainforest disappear and why people are willing to do harm to their own little piece of the world.

All this, when I was little, was still primary forest cut with little trails where native people came to fish. There's no mahogany left. When I was little my father and I would walk through the forest looking for Brazil nuts, but now you've got to go seven hours by outboard upriver to find primary forest.
--from p. 47 of uncorrected proof

The Lunatic Express is not a funny book. The author was searching and you can feel his pain, at times. You also can't help but ache for the impoverished people he meets, although many of them seem happier living in poverty and tight quarters than most Americans in their sprawling homes, separated from other people. Hoffman gives his readers a fascinating glimpse into parts of the world many of us don't really know much about; it's a learning experience. That was what I loved about the book -- the peek into other lifestyles. You will leave it with a new appreciation for modern, clean transportation and a longing for the old sense of community.

The only thing I really disliked about the book was that it was set entirely in past tense. So, if the author spoke about the current state of the rainforest at the time of his visit, he put it in past tense. Usually, writers shift to present when describing such things as conditions at the time of writing or statistics and it's understood that those particular descriptions are from a moment in time. I thought the lack of tense shift was awkward, but since I had trouble putting the book down and enjoyed it immensely, otherwise, I only took off a single point.

One warning: It's a dirty world. If you don't like to read about having to wait to relieve oneself by the side of the road (and other bodily functions), nasty insects and filth, there will be times this book will make you cringe. Hoffman didn't pretty up the truth. There are some gross-out moments.

4/5 - A rare glimpse into parts of the world we barely read about in tiny little news blurbs, well-written and engrossing. Not a happy book. If you're looking for a lighter tone, seek out No Touch Monkey by Ayun Halliday or First Comes Love, Then Comes Malaria by Eve Brown-Waite.

In other news:

There's not much other news, actually. I've recently received a single book in the mail:

The Pocket Therapist by Therese J. Borchard

It was a drawing win from Luanne of A Bookworm's World - thanks, Luanne! I've got Borchard's other book, Beyond Blue, and will dive into one or both, soon.

We're still having serious electrical issues and that doofy electrician never did call back with an estimate to replace our breaker box, so I'm just going to get online in the morning. Update: Doofus called huzzybuns and will be here, tomorrow. Please pray (or cross your fingers) that he doesn't do anything that will cause the house to burn down. One good thing about our power problem: Since the netbook is a pain and I'm not blog-hopping at all, I'm doing a lot more reading. Since Saturday, I've finished:

A Mango-Shaped Space by Wendy Mass
The Secret Lives of People in Love (HarperPerennial issue) by Simon Van Booy
Shakespeare Wrote for Money by Nick Hornby
Non Campus Mentis, compiled by Anders Hendriksson and
Life in Spite of Me by Kristen Jane Anderson

And, I'm nearly finished with The Prophecy by Dawn Mills -- a book that has gotten terrible reviews at Amazon, but which I'm actually enjoying. I guess that just goes to show that we're all individuals and you never know when you might end up liking or even loving a book everyone else would happily use to line a bird cage. The Prophecy is a FirstWild tour book, so I'll be posting a sneak peek and review, tomorrow, followed by a Fiona Friday pic in the evening.

I'm going to start punching out mini-reviews as fast as I can, this afternoon, while lifeguard son is working (preparing the pool for summer). I've decided I can't stand the axe of unwritten reviews hanging over my head, anymore. So, please forgive the coming onslaught.

First Comes Love, Then Comes Malaria by Eve Brown-Waite

First Comes Love, Then Comes Malaria: How a Peace Corps Poster Boy Won My Heart and a Third World Adventure Changed My Life by Eve Brown-Waite
Copyright 2009
Broadway Books - Travel/Memoir
307 pages

Wow, that title is quite a mouthful, isn't it? I won my copy of First Comes Love, Then Comes Malaria in a drawing, but I'm not sure where. Probably from The Book Lady. At any rate, I'm grateful to the source of Malaria because it is a tremendous read.

Eve Brown had always planned to go into the Peace Corps to fulfill her need to do something noble, to do her part to help save the world. After she graduated from college, she did exactly as she planned but with "some ambivalence" (according to the cover blurb).

When Eve arrived at the Peace Corps recruiting office for an interview she wasn't expecting to fall in love with her recruiter; but, practically the moment she began talking to him, Eve knew John was the man she wanted to marry. John talked fondly of his time in Africa. Totally smitten, Eve eventually left for Ecuador as much to win John's heart as to do her part.

After a year in a remote village in Ecuador, Eve returned shaken and in serious need of therapy after a friend's violent experience brought buried memories to the surface. Eve and John had managed to continue having a long-distance relationship with occasional visits by John and she hoped they'd end up quickly marrying, settling down in the United States. But, John had other things in mind. After several years of dating and living together, they finally married . . . and John found the job of his dreams in Uganda. So much for staying within easy reach of a decaf cappuccino.

It would be hard to spoil this book, simply because there is so much I think most Americans can probably barely fathom in the description of life in Africa. Eve and John lived in an area that most charitable organizations considered off-limits because of sporadic violence, difficult conditions and poor access to medical care and general supplies. But, they remained for quite a while and Eve Brown-Waite has a lot of stories to tell in this book, including her experiences with intestinal parasites, pregnancy outside of the United States, difficulty communicating with people (her stories about early pregnancy and just trying to find out whether or not she was actually pregnant are hilarious) and being held hostage. She describes her frustrations as she tried to find a way to use her skills as a health educator and how she learned to live with the language and the culture.

5/5 - Excellent writing, fascinating tales of personal experience, likable narrator. I loved this book. The author tells her story with humor and sensitivity. She's the kind of person that you wish you could live next door to or whom you feel you'd love to meet and become friends with for life.

Again, I'm going to try to bang out as many reviews as possible, this week. We'll see how long I last. Last week, I did very well until fatigue caught up with me -- not from writing reviews but from having to wake up the kiddo and then staying up till my usual bedtime (because the husband usually does the morning routine and he was in Germany). I'm a night-owl and I neglected to nap when my days suddenly became about 20 hours long. When I hit the wall, I hit it hard. But, I'm back. I hope.