Just Finished Reading: Wanderers – A History of Women Walking by Kerri Andrews (2020) [263pp] 

This was an ideal ‘coupling’ with my previous walking book, so I was more than a little pleased to pick it up for a song at my (excellent) local Charity shop. Covering the lives and walks of 10 famous female authors this was often an eye-opening read. The author is both a keen hillwalker and a senior lecturer in English Literature so had (both) feet in each camp.  

Of the 10 authors I’m afraid that I’d only heard of (and read) 3 of them – Virginia Woolf, Anais Nin and Cheryl Strayed. In my ignorance I hadn’t realised that the poet Woodsworth had a sister equally as obsessed in walking their local environment (especially in the Lake District) as he was. The others – Elizabeth Carter, Ellen Weeton, Sarah Stoddart Hazlitt, Harriet Martineau, Nan Shepherd and Linda Cracknell were all completely new to me. 

They were, to say the least, an INTERESTING bunch of women. Not only were many accomplished authors of their time they were also accomplished walkers much to the astonishment and exhaustion of male friends, family and the larger society. Women walking LONG distances, especially on their own, was viewed as quite bizarre – radical even. Despite this (or maybe a little because of it) they managed walking tours or eye-watering length in Scotland, the North of England or (in Cheryl Strayed’s case) the Pacific Crest Trail. 

One woman who particularly interested me was Ellen Weeton, an early 19th century Lancashire governess and hill climber. She was born in Upholland near Wigan which is where my sister presently lives and not too far from where I spent most of my formative years (11-23). Despite not having a private income (like so many of the other early examples in the book) she still managed to ‘bag’ numerous hills shaking off any male guides or company that might slow her down or prevent her from exploring mid-trek. She sounded like quite the formidable character! 

The only (slight) ‘criticism’ that I had with this was the sometimes-over-enthusiastic focus on a few of the listed women to the detriment of narrative flow. It's certainly forgivable but I felt that just a little more restraint would have helped tighten things up a bit. Apart from that (very) minor niggle I found myself liking this very much indeed. If you’re a walker, interested in rather eccentric people (there’s plenty in here for everyone), or want to delve into some of the other aspects of authors/poets lives then this is a book for you. Recommended. 

Just Finished Reading: Foreign Devils on the Silk Road – The Search for the Lost Treasures of Central Asia by Peter Hopkirk (FP: 1980) [241pp] 

It was arguably one of the most important trade routes in history. It connected the great Empires of the West to those of the East and allowed goods, ideas and disease to travel the globe in relative ease. They were the Silk Roads (plural). But all things pass and trade routes are no exception. First, they pass into disuse, then history and finally into legend itself. But around the turn of the 20th century rumours of lost cities, ancient sites lost in the desert and uncounted treasure began circling the European capitals. Strange exotic objects began appearing in markets and, finally, expeditions were planned and funded in institutions from Britain, Germany, Russia, Japan and the USA.  

Knowledge of the exact route of the various strands that made up the Silk Routes was approximate at best. The only way to find them at that time was travel overland with the knowledge available and ask the locals what they knew – which, all too often, was very little. Rumours, legends, warnings, stories of ghosts in the desert and the curses placed on treasure by jealous spirits wasn’t exactly a road map. But hints of sunken cities and a handful of ancient objects in the homes of the headmen was enough to start with. The first tentative diggings yielded little but then, finally, paydirt. In the disputed areas bordering China a host of documents emerged from the sand. The burgeoning world of archaeology was aflame. Museums and galleries across the world demanded their own examples of artifacts, paintings, documents and anything small enough to transport across the vast (and often uncharted) distances safely to London, Berlin, Paris or New York.  

The men who responded to the call were a varied bunch. Some, indeed most, were experts in their respective fields. Others were there for the glory of being first, of making their names and reputations and, of course, for sheer the adventure of it all. What almost no one cared about was the rights of the locals to their own history. Naturally some serious rationalisation went on. The locals were all too often ignorant of what lay beneath the sand or high in the mountains. There was also the very real danger that time and the environment would destroy much of cultural or historic significance – so why not remove it and place it in a museum thousands of miles away for ‘safe-keeping’. Of course, later Chinese authorities couldn’t help but mention the number of irreplaceable artifacts destroyed by the Allied bombing of Germany in WW2 held in its city museums. 

This was honestly a fascinating read. If you’ve ever enjoyed an Indiana Jones movie (well the first decent one) you’ll enjoy the reality even more. Although there’s no Nazi archaeologists looking for supernatural wonder weapons there are plenty of Chinese warlords, mysterious priests, Japanese spies, British agents and competing dig teams almost coming to outright conflict over who had a right to dig where. Added into the mix, if that wasn’t enough, was extreme weather events, the very real possibility of death from cold, heat, disease, wild animals, local treasure hunters, and thirst. Coming out of the region alive, even empty handed, was an achievement in itself! This is definitely recommended for all adventure fans and those interested in the real-life origins of one of our own cultural icons – Indie! More to come from this author.

Just Finished Reading: Hard Travel to Sacred Places by Rudolph Wurlitzer (FP: 1994) [161pp] 

The trip was, partially at least, planned. His wife had been contracted to photograph various sacred sites across Asia, and the author had some meetings planned with film makers to rough out some movie scripts. But a big part of the reason for the trip was to help ‘come to terms’ with the recent death of his wife’s son who, at age 21, had died in a car crash. 

The couple travelled to Thailand, Burma and Cambodia by plane, train and a variety of automobiles (and boats). During the several weeks of the journey they suffered through intense heat, power cuts, the threat of gunfire, illness, lack of running water or phone service, and of course waves of crushing grief. Needless to say, this was not a vacation full of rainbows and unicorns. But it did have its compensations – the scenery was often amazing, and the sacred sites themselves seemed otherworldly (which, in a way, they were). Plus, the people they met, both arranged and otherwise, added an extra dimension as local experts and Buddhist monks discussed the history of temple complexes and the varying philosophies behind their builders.  

I picked up this slim volume decades ago in (I think) a local Book Barn simply because it caught my eye in passing. I was probably routing around in the Religion/Eastern Philosophy section I was interested in at that time and thought it would be worth a read. It was. Rather sombre at times, as you might imagine, it is often beautifully written (he was the scriptwriter for Little Buddha directed by Bernardo Bertolucci in 1993) and filled with imagery which will stay with you for quite a while. The author has been doing his level best to practice (and investigate) various shades of Buddhism over the decades so has some interesting insights into life (and, naturally given the circumstances, death) which are thought provoking. A sometimes strange read, but an interesting one. Reasonable.    

Just Finished Reading: A Thing of Beauty – Travels in Mythical and Modern Greece by Peter Fiennes (FP: 2021) [264pp] 

If there’s one thing my recent reviews have taught me, it’s that I REALLY need to pay much more attention to books before I purchase them. I had been looking for 'country history' books, especially outside the usual Anglo-American axis and preferably additional to the usual tomes of French history, so this seemed perfect. I’d already read a reasonable bit about Ancient Greece but my knowledge of anything approaching modern Greece was (and still is) almost non-existent. The sub-title in particular got my hopes up but hope, such as it was, stubbornly stayed in Pandora’s Jar. The only ‘modern’ aspect of this book was the fact that the author was driving around modern Greece and occasionally chatting to locals about Hope. Such conversations definitely seemed to be required as fires ravaged the countryside and the early effects of Covid where beginning to show their hand. 

This does not mean that I was disappointed with this volume – FAR from it. Once my all too typical misunderstanding had been accepted, I found this book, and the author, to be fascinating, informed and often funny. It all started, as you might well imagine, with Lord Byron who, after a dissolute youth, decided to aid Greece in her fight for independence from the Ottoman Empire. This journey, by one of the most famous Brits of the era, seemed like a good ‘peg’ to hang a travel book on – and it is. Somewhat strangely, except for some fascinating chunks of the Lord’s life early on, Byron himself features less and less as the book progresses. [Note to Self: Read a good book on Byron!] 

As alluded to earlier, the focus of the book was on Hope – the last thing to emerge from (or to remain in, depending on which version of the Myth you’re reading) Pandora’s jar – it was never a ‘box’, that was a mistranslation which took wings and became the ‘truth’. This naturally led to who Pandora was, why she had (or opened) the jar, who ‘created’ her, why and who for... and we’re off into the wild and complex world of the Greek mythic world. This is where, as also alluded to previously, we are introduced to modern Greece. The author drives around – sometimes with wife and son – to locations where the myths ‘happened’ where variations are teased out – and teased about – as well as museums, galleries, various ruins and more than a few quips in the direction of the British Museum and other European ‘collectors’ who in the 18th and 19th centuries “picked up a few things” on their journey around the country. 

After my initial (brief) disappointment that this wasn’t the book I was looking for, I found myself completely captivated and loving pretty much every minute of it. There are a few things that some readers might find annoying (personally I didn’t) when the author comments on excessive tourism, exploitation and the effects of Global Warming on Greece in particular but they are very minor diversions from the main thrust of the narrative. I’ve already added his book about walking around Britain – referencing various authors as he goes – to my Wish List. I’m really looking forward to that one! Definitely recommended for anyone interested in Myth, Greece and even Lord Byron. 

Just Finished Reading: Footmarks – A Journey into Our Restless Past by Jim Leary (FP: 2024) [238pp] 

The problem with digging up the deep past is that everything is static, dead, unmoving. Even Roman roads, ancient pathways, and drover's lanes are empty. Of course, when they were in daily use, they were anything but – that's the rub. How do you excavate a world on the move?  

That is the interesting question at the heart of this often-fascinating book. Humans move around a LOT and this was true thousands, indeed tens of thousands of years ago as it is today – except without continent spanning aircraft or ocean spanning liners. For much of our history if you wanted to go any great distance you walked there or, if you were lucky or rich, rode there on horseback. This is what we, and humanities predecessors, did. We got up and we walked out of Africa and across Eurasia and into both the America’s and Australia (although the last bit of that particular journey was by boat). 

There is a great deal of (growing) evidence for our mobile past from fossilised footprints (fascinating in and of themselves), to the very earliest bridges, river fords and more permanent constructions. To our very earliest boats of wood and leather to ocean going Viking craft. We have genetic evidence of grand movements of people, evidence of the spread of ideas, technology and burial beliefs over thousands of years and thousands of miles. All of this brings the dead, static, unmoving past to a more mobile, more visible, more human clarity. 

This is definitely a very different way of looking at the deep past. Despite some very good writing it did take me a little while to ‘reorientate’ myself (pun obviously intended!) to the author's vision but once I did a great deal of his arguments made perfect sense. Humans move – a LOT. So, viewing artifacts and structures with that in mind help us to understand why roads are where they are and go where they go. It helps to explain pilgrimages and religious sites, it helps to explain why coins and other artifacts are located in rivers, wells and other locations. It even explains the location of gates, doorways and walls. Seeing places without an occupying human community is only half the picture. This book helps being able to at least imagine, if not actually ‘see’ the other half. Full of interesting ideas, observations and discoveries. Definitely recommended for anyone interested in our very human mobile past.     

Just Finished Reading: The Glass Wall – Lives on the Baltic Frontier by Max Egremont (FP: 2021) [263pp] 

I’ll be the first to admit that my ‘knowledge’ of the Baltic States of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania is confined to the fact that they gained their independence soon after the collapse of the Soviet Union and that some rather vicious battles were fought there towards to end of WW2 to slow the advance of Soviet forces into Germany. Thankfully, after reading this very good book, I’m a LOT less ignorant than before. 

This did take a little effort to ‘get into’ because of the authors style – not that his writing was bad, far from it. Maybe I was expecting a more rigid organisation – geographically or chronologically – rather than him essentially (with some exaggeration on my part) wandering around the region chatting to people and digging into the past of various buildings/monuments or areas. One big thing I did realise early one, is that the Baltic States have had FAR too much History happen to them than is usually warranted in a comparatively small region. The States have been occupied by one major Empire or other for the last 700 years, have been fought over, bargained with, and have had their culture shaped by other countries for generations. It is only now that they are really finding out exactly who they are. 

Heavily influenced by their two most powerful neighbours – Russia and, especially, Germany – it can feel (the author said more than once) that you’re travelling through one of those countries, from the languages you hear on the street to the architecture around every corner. Interviewing, or sometimes simply chatting, with locals throughout the region including serving military officers, teachers and librarians, Holocaust survivors, descendants of the previous ruling elites, returned exiles from all across the globe as well as random people on local buses, the reader gets a real sense both of the present situation, the cultural streams flowing through and the deep sense of history felt by its inhabitants. 

This was a really interesting read about a part of Europe I knew very little about. I’ll definitely be returning to the region when I can to dig deeper around some of its LONG and complex history. Definitely recommended for anyone interested in the zone – in the news quite a bit recently with their unwavering support for Ukraine and the threats aimed at them from Russia (which they are more than used to) - and for anyone thinking of visiting.   

Just Finished Reading: Echolands – A Journey in Search of Boudica by Duncan Mackay (FP: 2023) [306pp] 

It all started with the Welsh, and an overzealous Roman commander. It ended with death, destruction and a revolt that might have ended to occupation of Britannia. The commander of the province at the ends of the world, Suetonius Paulinus, was campaigning (AKA exterminating) in Wales subduing the local population that had been causing so much trouble in the past. To do so with the maximum of effort he wanted his rear to be secure and to assure this he directed his subordinate to disarm the local tribes. One of these tribes, the Iceni, had been willing clients to Rome for some time and they expected to be treated as such. To demand their weapons, as if they couldn’t be trusted, was an insult too far. Swords were drawn, words were said and, as night follows day, blood flowed. What was worse is that the queen, Boudica (which means Victory) was whipped and her daughters raped – or at least according to later accounts. Whatever actually happened, it was enough for the Iceni and their allies to hold an urgent meeting to decide how to respond. The decision was to fight – to kill every Roman, man, woman and child they found and to burn everything Roman to the ground. The Iceni were warriors of their word and they fell upon the Roman occupiers like ravening wolves. Cities burnt, including London, thousands died and the IX Legion was destroyed to a man – with only its commander and a handful of cavalry able to save the eagle from capture. Only weeks later, when Paulinus return from his campaigning did a final battle take place where, this time, the Iceni fell in their thousands and the revolt was brutally ended. But it was a close-run thing and even the Emperor, Nero, apparently considered giving up Britannia as a lost cause. 

I’ve long had a ‘thing’ for the Boudica story (or Boadicea as I wrongly knew her growing up). I think I might have heard the full story early in school during a history lesson. I do wonder if the teacher, in the 1970’s, was the same one who turned me on to the story of Hereward. It’s entirely possible. They were a radical bunch back then! It is a great story though – despite the fact that we only really know about it from the Roman viewpoint and a good chunk of that evidence is questionable to a degree. There’s plenty of physical evidence – including the Boudican layer of destruction visible in digs across England’s southern plain. What we don’t know are where some of the notable battles took place – including the ambush and destruction of the IX Legion and the final battle itself.  

That’s one of the things the author went looking for in this highly engaging and highly entertaining narrative. I was honestly hooked! I really liked the way he tried to get inside the heads of the main players but was also more than happy to point out what we don’t know and probably will never know about the events surrounding the revolt itself. I also really liked the authors sense of humour most obvious from his chapter headings. I particularly liked the one covering the initial Roman invasion of Britain called ‘The Egle Has Landed’. Brilliant! If you’ve ever wondered exactly who Boudica was and why she was held in such high regard for so long – although apparently there are some who are trying to label her as a war criminal or worse – this is definitely the book for you. One last thing, below is an image of the statue of Boudica and her two daughters in London. Whenever I’m there I always try to visit the area and admire the artwork and the woman herself. She’s still one of my all-time historical heroes and I can’t help but wonder what things would’ve been like if she had succeeded in throwing the Romans back into the sea....