Two words: dragged out. In spite of being a believer of the listen to your heart, follow your dreams philosophy, to me, this book clearly went over the top. I started reading it late last year and normally should have been able to finish it within two weeks. I took it with me on my trip, and found myself reading the book less, and the lonely planet more. Ofcourse, its normal to read a guidebook when you're travelling, but honestly, I would read completely unnecessary stuff from it, and even about places I wasn't planning to visit (like Indonesia) just in order to avoid reading this book.
I won't even go into the plot except that it revolves around this near-perfect writer's life story (take a wild guess who that character may be based upon) and his obsession with a woman that makes him visit Central Asia and tag along behind groups of punks in the streets of Paris. The sentences are long and unnecessarily complex, and by the time you finish reading one, you've already forgotten what he started off saying in the first place. I have Veronika Decides to Die, another of his titles sitting on the bookshelf, but considering the huge effort it took to read this one, I don't think I'll be picking that up for a while.
Mi Bodeguita del Medio
While my blog is named after a restaurant in Havana I hope to someday visit, here you will find musings, rants, political incorrectness, thoughts on Indian Nationalism, strong straight-forward opinions and tid-bits.