Books like Marie Potter and The Campervan of Doom

The author bought a Mazda sports car on a whim, which prompted him to plan a mid-life road trip through Europe. His wife Nat decided to go along for the ride, and I am so glad she did. The banter between them is like a comedy double act. 

Road trip memoirs are frequently a catalogue of calamities, a search for self, or a directory of delectable destinations. This book is notably devoid of disasters and empty of ‘eureka' moments. In fact, very little actually happens…  

Yet in a series of wry observations, witty perspectives, and entertaining sketches, Adrian captures the flavour of the trip masterfully, with huge belly laughs thrown in. I can’t wait to read more from this thoughtful, funny writer.

Vroom With A View is a giggle-filled rev around Italy aboard a vintage Vespa motor scooter. 

I am a born-again Italian. In the same way I love everything about Italy, I loved everything about this book. Good travel writing makes you want to jump out of your chair and hit the road yourself. From the snippets of history about an Italian classic, the Vespa motor scooter, to the descriptions of wonderful off-the-beaten-path places and the irrepressible kindness and spirit of the Italian people, I defy you not to want to sample la vita Italiana after reading this book!

Entry into the Mongol Rally from Europe to Ulan Ude in Russia requires a car with a maximum engine size of 1.0 litre. The premise is that such a farcically inappropriate vehicle will invite adventure and interaction with locals. 

Obviously, a 600-mile odyssey across southern Britain in an elderly electric milk float, with unreliable batteries and a top speed of 15 mph invites all kinds of mishaps.

Comedy writers Dan and Ian tackle alternate chapters. Since Dan authored the bestselling trilogy Crap Towns: a guide to the worst towns in Britain, there is plenty of off-the-wall detail about the places they passed through. Reliant on the kindness of strangers and third man Pras, an electrician with magical powers, this is a gently comic, informative, and quirky alternative to Jerome K. Jerome’s classic.

Impecunious Brits George and his friend Mark decide to search for the ‘real’ America, crossing the continent from east to west in a clapped-out old car. 

At every point, amid clouds of smoke, impending mechanical Armageddon, and brushes with the law, it seems unlikely that they’ll make it. One night, in the middle of nowhere, when ominous sounds emanating from the engine, George pleads, “Not tonight, Josephine…!”

The author has a humorous conversational style and paints an unforgettable portrait of the unlikely places he passed through. I thoroughly enjoyed this bump-start, clunk, and judder across the States with the frustrating but lovable Josephine!

It is only fair that John Ajvide Lindqvist gets two mentions out of my five. He is the Nordic author most committed to the genre and damn good at it to boot. As a result, there was a lot to choose from and yet I decided on the title that is possibly the least likely to hold mass appeal, despite a premise that might seem most horror reader’s cup of tea. Ten people in campervans, plus a dog and a cat, wake up to find the world as they knew it has disappeared. What happens next is presented from a multiple POW and is disturbing, harrowing, gory, and creepy. The part that is not for everyone is that the story is hard to wrap your head around. But for those horror aficionados that do not need a perfect explanation at the end are in for a hell of a ride… show more.

With the advent of food trucks, I can’t think of anything more charming or lovely than a tea shop that hits the road, and in a bright pink van, no less. Raisin’s writing goes straight to the point–we’re on the road with Rosie in no time, and it’s a journey you won’t want to miss. 

“Do I contradict myself? / Very well then I contradict myself, / (I am large, I contain multitudes).”

I first heard these words from Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman at a Berkeley Poets Cooperative workshop in 1972. I was intrigued and had to read Whitman’s work myself! Up until this point, my primary influences as a poet had been the Romantics (especially Keats, Shelley, and Byron), Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, and Edna St. Vincent Millay.

Whitman was a revelation. He showed me not only that a poet could write in an entirely different way, but also that an individual can encompass and represent vastness. When Whitman reveals his name in “Song of Myself,” he includes the whole universe in a single breath: “Walt Whitman, a kosmos.” 

Let’s start off with: if my old friends called me up for a hike into the Scandinavian wilderness, I’d tell them to have fun and send pictures. Thankfully, I am not a horror story protagonist.

In horror, I love a creepy forest setting. What could be watching you? How dangerous is it? I felt like I was in the forest, lost, alone with friends I may no longer trust. And then, when things got weird, we had to escape a monster too.

Was it a bit of a departure? Yes. Was I here for it? Also yes. It felt like the telling of an old campfire story that eased you in quietly, then bashed you over the head.

We value this book because it is alone in giving equal weight to the foraging (for eating) and medicinal values (for health) of thirteen super-abundant survival plants.

We love its breezy but informed tone, its original recipes, and its underlying serious ecological purpose. What we found somewhat irritating was the twee little verses that introduce each plant: these are groan-worthy! But that’s the only and slight criticism, and we love to follow Katrina for fun and very well-informed foraging!

This is the best book I’ve ever read on what it feels like to be a bird. It takes the form of a novel following the migration and searches for companionship of an Eskimo curlew.

But it isn’t a kid’s novel of entirely anthropomorphized animals, complete with a full complement of human thoughts. Instead, Bodsworth gives a skillfully restrained rendition of what instincts and urges birds might really feel, carefully threading the needle between boring accounts that allow no emotions to birds and fanciful accounts that erroneously attribute all kinds of complex thoughts and calculations to them. 

The migratory and nesting instincts are tremendously powerful feelings, feelings experienced by the birds I see right in my neighborhood. Bodsworth does them justice and makes the birds characters in an enormous, epic drama.