Home-grown travel-writing in India isn’t a flourishing genre yet (there’s no shortage of foreign imports, though) and good home-grown travel-writing is, alas, rare. So, I was intrigued when I came across this book, the slim girth (just how much useful information can you squeeze in to a thin volume? I was about to find out) notwithstanding. However, my building excitement – yes, I get excited when I pick up a new book; I’m easily pleased! –  began turning to apprehension when I read the puffery on the rear jacket (they really ought to be re-named ‘puffer jackets’!). I’m instinctively wary of hype and sycophancy and the authors have been recipients of both from various publications and media outlets. But, my curiosity won over the apprehension and I bought the book. At Global Voyagers we sometimes have to hold our noses and wade in, in the interests of thoroughness. Unlike other travel-related magazines that “review” books, we don’t just bash out a perky, gushing paragraph. We deconstruct and turn the book upside down.

A perpetual worry for discerning reviewers and readers alike is whether a tome on travel-writing will be yet another narcissistic rambling, even more so now that the world is plagued by influencers. A few pages, in my doubts began to surface like the tailfin of the 707 through the clouds in the opening sequence of Airplane.

The prologue, a mix of Bedouin proverbs, Norse mythology and trite expressions that could have come right out of Eat Pray Love – “This is the book of LIFE” – opens in Finland but it’s the brief account of middle-class life in sweltering 90s (the decade and the temperature) Delhi that strikes a chord, probably because I share certain characteristics of upbringing with the authors (hard working parents from modest backgrounds who worked very hard to provide for us). Although, I spent time growing up in sultry and humid Bombay, not Delhi.

One missed opportunity could be considered a coincidence but a series of missed opportunities is just downright laziness or, worse, apathy.

In San Pedro, Guatemala the couple ignore the history and architecture (‘’Historic cathedrals and Mayan temples”) and nor do they probe for an insight in to the lives of the locals. They do visit the home of a weaver but very little about her life, or the lives of the villagers, is gleaned. Admittedly, they don’t speak fluent Spanish but were there no interpreters in town? The chapter goes off on a tangent about the social ills plaguing India. That’s all very well but if you’ve gone all the way to Guatemala, why not demonstrates your curiosity about the local culture? Why not draw comparisons?  One of the surest ways of disarming locals and building a rapid rapport with them is by showing more than a passing interest in their culture. Indians don’t come with the baggage of colonialism (we were never the sort brutal slave traders and colonisers like the Arabs, Europeans and Americans and, yes, Africans. Quite the contrary, as it happens) so we’re more likely to establish a less fraught connection with other colonised peoples. Unfortunately, many today travel the world like the authors: arriving at a destination, superficially taking in a few attractions (and, immediately posting their activities on social media), ticking the destination off a list and moving on to the next one. The authors are symptoms of an India and Indians in a hurry. You merely scratch the surface when, being in the enviable position you find yourself in (having the resources to travel to places most Indians never will), you follow the herd instead of stepping back from it.

A lack of curiosity is the predominant theme of the book. The authors lob out some titbits about Icelandic folklore but nothing about the locals. Were the locals not curious about India?

Bali inspires Sav’s creative/literary juices: there’s a brief “travel porny” description, straight out of one of the more advert-and-paid-promotion-driven travel mags, about waking up in Bali but, invariably, nothing about Bali’s culture and history. Were the writers even aware of Bali’s Hindu traditions?

By now, I was in two minds about continuing with the book. However, I found it hard not to empathise with Savi’s sense of loss when she describes losing her father. Someone who writes about bereavement so expressively deserves a second chance.

And, gradually the solipsism gives way to insight: in Copenhagen, we find that the outward veneer of  happiness and pro-labour work practices hides a feeling of emptiness and a lack of hunger. Something rotten in the state of Denmark, indeed. The highlight of the chapter, and perhaps the book, is Vid and a teenager bonding over a photography app late at night in Addis Ababa and the teenager inviting the writers home for a meal. The family share their food and eat from the same plate. “Aron rounds off a bit of the injera and feeds it to Vid with his hands”. Could this degree of hospitality be conceived anywhere else, especially in the West? The kindness and hospitality shown to strangers in Ethiopia is all the more surprising and ironic given Ethiopia’s propensity for civil wars. But, unfortunately, the chapter has no further information on Addis Ababa or Ethiopia and the book heads downhill from here. Moments of promise are fleeting. The writers’ intelligence is beyond question – one has a PhD in English from Leeds University and the other is an Engineering graduate – and they have an innate ability to adapt (“…travelling in the developing world is a learning curve, but we grew up in India, so we come equipped”) in Third World conditions so it’s all the more wasteful that their intelligence and adaptability weren’t channelled effectively.

A shaky and embarrassing grasp of geography doesn’t help. What were the editors doing?

“…we make our way to the northernmost village of Europe – Xinaliq,”. That village is in Azerbaijan, which is in the Caucasus, not Europe. I would imagine the northernmost village of Europe lies somewhere in the Arctic Circle.

The pics are a cross between ‘Bollywood D-listers-meet-Indian travel mags(take your pic)-way past their best’. The saving grace is that there’s no clichéd pic of hot air balloons that festoons itself on thousands of websites! Am I the only one who is sick of that pic?

The chapter on iconic bucket list adventures could have been cut-and-pasted from any travel magazine or blog looking to add some “filler” content. Describing Bolivia, the writer says, “We kept feeling the two have us have walked in to a National Geographic documentary”. Reading the chapter I felt I had walked in to yet another ‘hot list’ that’s churned out routinely by travel mags.

The writers rave about the Keralan houseboat experience. After the first hour or two houseboats become boring! How much lush foliage can you see in a day? How much do you want to see in a day? After a while you just end up in the bedroom, watching tv (if the houseboat has one) or reading. If you’re a couple you inevitably end up ticking off the ‘sex-on-a-houseboat’ objective. Houseboats, like the Chinese fishing nets of Cochin, are just marketing ploys that suckers fall for.

One of the tips on ‘Digital Success’ is ‘Stop consuming content mindlessly’. Could I ask the writers to, conversely, stop producing content mindlessly?

The chapter on ‘Digital Success’ is by far the most detailed, a mixture of practical advice and clichés. The writers are professional bloggers and run a website so they obviously have a lot of experience. However, it’s ironic that this experience mostly results in churning out listicles and puff-pieces. Worse, this chapter and book will probably inspire other mediocrities to follow in the footsteps of the writers.

“…if you are keen on sharing your passion and your art, there is a place for you”.

Nope, the world doesn’t need more bloggers, content creators etc., who don’t offer anything original.

Could this be the most ironic sentence in the book, ‘’ The irony is, there are millions of articles and posts out there but information that is truly useful to readers is even rarer than it was nine years ago!” ? Ironic because the book doesn’t provide any practical or insightful information about the countries the couple have visited, including their own- India.

Nowhere is there a mention of the harmful effects of air travel on the environment. The writers hop from one country to another, either blissfully unaware of their carbon footprint or unwilling to acknowledge it. The world definitely doesn’t need more bloggers travelling the world on polluting aircraft while they churn out superficial content.