
Three Men in a Boat
Three Victorians and a fox terrier row up the Thames, and Jerome turns the holiday into English comedy: a tin of pineapple nobody can open, a Hampton Court maze that traps everyone.

Three Victorians and a fox terrier row up the Thames, and Jerome turns the holiday into English comedy: a tin of pineapple nobody can open, a Hampton Court maze that traps everyone.

Quitting the London fashion trade with almost no climbing behind him, Newby set out for an unclimbed Afghan peak. The funniest travel book in English comes out of that mismatch.

Phileas Fogg wagers half his fortune that steamships and railways have shrunk the world to eighty days, and leaves that evening. Seventeen years later the reporter Nellie Bly ran the route in seventy-two.

Chatwin traveled Patagonia chasing a scrap of giant sloth skin from his grandmother's cabinet, and collected Welsh settlers, anarchists and Butch Cassidy. He remade travel writing into something as strange as fiction.

Byron crossed Persia and Afghanistan in the 1930s hunting domes and minarets, and the diary he kept is funny, rapturous, and cruel about everyone he meets. Paul Fussell called it travel writing's Ulysses.

Five years at sea gave Darwin fossil giants in Patagonia, an earthquake lifting the Chilean coast, and Galapagos tortoises. He wrote it as travel narrative, and evolution grew out of these notes.

Sent to Paris to pry a young American away from a Frenchwoman, a middle-aged emissary looks around and tells a young painter to live all he can. James called it his best novel.

Sal Paradise crosses and recrosses America with Dean Moriarty, a car thief who talks nonstop and cannot sit still. Kerouac made restlessness the American subject, and the prose runs on the same fuel.

Bishop looks at a fish, a filling station, a moose in the road, and never tells you what to feel. In "One Art" she calls losing things an art you can master.

From the cafes of Paris to the bullring at Pamplona, expatriates drink and travel and love the wrong people. Hemingway leaves the wound unnamed, and what nobody says sits under every line.