Here and There: Collected Travel Writing
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Enjoy a trip around the world with this "best of" collection of A.A.Gill’s sometimes acerbic, often astute, and always highly entertaining travel writing. Here and There is an engaging collection of travel tales by acclaimed writer A.A. Gill. Short, sharp, and to the point, Gill’s perspective is always unique. He is controversial and charming, cynical and humorous, and each story bursts with his quick wit and colorful prose. Take a trip with A.A. Gill as he ponders why croissants and cappuccinos just aren’t what they used to be, reveals the appealing nature of slowness, and comes to understand why Freud came up with psychoanalysis. He’ll keep you entranced as he discovers the strong, beautiful rhythm of Budapest, learns about the new trend of "glamping" (glamorous camping), experiences the murderous cold of Svalbard, and stumbles upon lobster-shaped coffins in Ghana. With his unique voice, A.A. Gill delivers a collection of stories that highlights the very best of his travel writing. Here and There, complete with introduction and an extra piece written exclusively for this collection, is a must-read for anyone with a curiosity for travel that can’t be sated.
the only airport named after someone who thought you’d be better off dead. At least in Italy you can be welcomed to Leonardo da Vinci, a man who at least thought flight was probable. Airports imply freedom and effortless transportation. You go to sleep in Europe; you wake up in Latin America. But first you have to go through a quarter-mile of queues that are like taking part in the Middle Ages. The queues part and re-form and split and become free agents and then they reconstitute themselves
with a smiley wrinkle-faced old woman, then a beautiful hostess. And, of course, golf. From Malaya to Indonesia, they’re all the same, and imply that perhaps what holiday-makers want is not an authentic experience, but a predictable generic one. Last week I watched an ad for a beach. It was so ubiquitous it could’ve been anywhere on the globe between Capricorn and Cancer. It was a primary snap of ‘holiday’: bendy palms, white sand, pale-blue sea, and I sneered and thought, who’d fall for that?
housing for Albanian refugees. Except they don’t build them, of course. The mafia does the building, with substandard material and poor-quality finishing. And sometimes they don’t even bother finishing at all. The hulks of central planning graft litter Puglia. But if you’re English, it doesn’t matter, because you won’t see any of that. When you drive to Lecce, you simply won’t see the miles of stained semi-slum, or the permanent roadworks, or the boarded-up petrol stations, or the blocks of
bloated painted whore. Anything can have a go on a deep-crust pizza, and anything does: pineapple, caviar, smoked salmon, cheddar. It’s been cosmetically enhanced and coarsened. And Caesar salad – a simple and clever piece of serendipity that married cos lettuce, egg, parmesan, garlic, anchovies and croutons – has grown into a soppy cold stew of chicken and bacon, smothered in mayonnaise, invariably without anchovy. The list of things that grow wayward when they leave home is the longest
lamented menu in the world. From dim sum to chicken tikka, there is a Darwinian natural selection in these fast food international dishes. Recreated without chefs, unencumbered by recipes, often with their constituent parts, their DNA, mass-produced by technicians with degrees in engineering, this is food that has become its own master, and to survive in the competitive stuff-throat world of cheap catering, it has to adapt to attract the humans who are needed to consume it as part of its natural