By Tony Horwitz
"A high-spirited, comedian ramble into the savage Outback populated via irreverent, beer-guzzling frontiersmen." --Chicago Tribune
"A interesting perception into what we are all approximately at the highways and byways alongside the outback track." --The Telegraph (Sydney)
Swept off to stay in Sydney through his Australian bride, American author Tony Horwitz longs to discover the unique reaches of his followed land. So sooner or later, armed purely with a backpack and fantasies of the open street, he hitchhikes off into the notable vacancy of Australia's outback.
What follows is a hilarious, hair-raising journey into the new purple middle of a continent so desolate that civilization dwindles to a gasoline pump and a pub. whereas the outback's terrain is inhospitable, its scattered population are whatever yet. Horwitz entrusts himself to Aborigines, opal diggers, jackeroos, card sharks, and sunstruck wanderers who degree distance within the variety of beers fed on en direction. alongside the best way, Horwitz discovers that the outback is as treacherous because it is colourful. Bug-bitten, sunblasted, dust-choked, and bloodied via a near-fatal coincidence, Horwitz endures seven thousand miles of the world's so much forbidding genuine property, and a few very strange own encounters, as he winds his solution to Queensland, Alice Springs, Perth, Darwin--and 100 bush pubs in between.
Horwitz, the Pulitzer Prize-winning writer of 2 nationwide bestsellers, Confederates within the Attic and Baghdad with no Map, is the appropriate travel consultant for someone who has ever dreamed of a real Australian adventure.
"Lively, fast moving and fun . . . a constantly attention-grabbing and exciting account." --Kirkus Reviews
"Ironical, perceptive and sophisticated . . . can have readers getting out their maps and itching to keep on with Horwitz's tracks. . . . the inner trip is his most interesting fulfillment; he permits the reader into his middle, to move vacationing with him there, sharing his adventures of the spirit." --Sunday Times (London)
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Additional info for One for the Road: Revised Edition
Now not that this relations turns out to care, a minimum of now not Edna, who does the entire speaking. in simple terms too satisfied to place a couple of thousand miles among themselves and the “bloody greenies” who're “hung up” on Tasmania’s wasteland. “What’s the damage of some little mines? ” Edna bellows. considered from the backseat, she has the neck of a heavyweight boxer and the voice of a circus barker. “Do you need to force up the complete coast of Tasmania and consider not anything yet rain woodland? ” I supply the light advice that rain wooded area should be nicer to examine than the moonscape of overmined hills throughout a lot of western Tasmania. She throws me a short specialist look that tells her I’m “one of them. ” Then she returns to learning the map, as though she’s looking for a very desolate little bit of the Nullarbor simple at which to enable me out of the auto. I choose to continue my mouth close after that. now not Edna. From greenies she strikes directly to bloody dole bludgers, bloody unions, and the hard work best Minister. She’d wish to shoot the full bloody lot of ’em. She even hates kangaroos: “The simply sturdy one is the person who jumps in entrance of your automobile. ” not anyone else within the vehicle dares to attempt and get in a observe; they simply track her out. i attempt to undertake a similar glazed demeanour and after an hour or so, Edna’s voice turns into monotonous, virtually soothing, just like the fur-lined backseat, which feels as healing as a Swedish therapeutic massage after days at the back of utes. The surroundings is enjoyable yet uninteresting, rolling prior just like the titanic middle of America—plains of wheat and grass to be crossed en path to extra fascinating locations. Even our common stops don't make rather a lot as a ripple during this tide of blandness. At every one city, Edna directs Norm previous the pubs, prior the espresso retailers, prior any spot that may provide a few neighborhood colour, and into the identikit vacationer traps that sprout beside interstate highways. The kinfolk piles out to shop for postcards at Penong, spoons at Ceduna, stubbie openers with opalized wombats at Nullarbor. Washed down with a gentle movement of pies and pasties and chocolate-covered Cherry Ripes. Then again within the sedan, home windows rolled up and air-conditioner booming till the subsequent roadhouse, the following around of Cherry Ripes. hours west of Kimba, i suppose the cool repose of a package deal of processed meat at the back of the fridge. I pop out of the deep freeze at an indication asserting the beginning of the Nullarbor simple. the main awesome factor concerning the Nullarbor is how unstriking it truly is. Australia’s image of bleak depression isn't really even all that bleak—at least no longer in comparison with the forbidding barren region I gone through to get right here. in truth, it’s in basic terms anything like twelve miles among timber on the Nullarbor’s such a lot barren stretch. now not little greenery will get within the means of what's a numbingly monotonous trip. simply north of right here, the rail line runs lifeless instantly for nearly 300 miles—the longest such stretch on this planet. And as Agatha Christie came across while she meditated the secret of the Australian bush in 1922, open areas don’t must be dry to be boring.