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Mr Snack and the Lady Water: Travel Tales From My Lost Years
After a decade spent on the road, renowned travel writer Brendan Shanahan is back with Mr Snack and the Lady Water, a collection of darkly funny and unexpected travel writing.
In the title piece, Shanahan embarks on what is supposed to be a luxury cruise, only to find himself on a three-day endurance test aboard a leaking barge on China’s Yangtze River in the company of a mysterious roommate, a pair of neurotic American spinsters and a thousand baseball-capped tourists. Other stories include his sight-unseen, online purchase of a house in Las Vegas, his brief career in Bollywood and a mediation on white guilt in post-apartheid South Africa.
Road-soiled and a touch deviant, Shanahan’s account of his ‘lost years’ are a comic master class, essential reading for anyone who has ever woken up in a strange bed or just stared at themselves in a hotel mirror at 3 am and asked ‘Where am I?’
In the title piece, Shanahan embarks on what is supposed to be a luxury cruise, only to find himself on a three-day endurance test aboard a leaking barge on China’s Yangtze River in the company of a mysterious roommate, a pair of neurotic American spinsters and a thousand baseball-capped tourists. Other stories include his sight-unseen, online purchase of a house in Las Vegas, his brief career in Bollywood and a mediation on white guilt in post-apartheid South Africa.
Road-soiled and a touch deviant, Shanahan’s account of his ‘lost years’ are a comic master class, essential reading for anyone who has ever woken up in a strange bed or just stared at themselves in a hotel mirror at 3 am and asked ‘Where am I?’
- GenresNonfiction
238 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 2013
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
March 24, 2013
(Mis)judging this book by its cover the unwary reader might wander into Mr Snack and the Lady Water expecting a light, witty, post-Bryson travelogue, only to be somewhat surprised as they find themselves lotion-deep in a Jakarta massage parlour as the author retells his difficulty in declining the inevitable, ahem, “upsell”. Wrong turn maybe, but right book – Brendan Shanahan’s mildly uneven but compelling Travel Noir collection showcases an engaging writer happy to leave the rose-tinted glasses behind on his journeys.
Shanahan picks his targets well in this collection – you probably do not own short-sleeved casual wear from these locations. In “Babyland” he discovers the official Cabbage Patch doll theme park, housed in a former American hospital complete with uniformed “medical staff” and dolls as patients, including preemies in incubators.
Yes, really.
Granted, with that set-up an illiterate Martian could no doubt spec-pitch a New Yorker feature, but even so the author gets somewhere special here. On the gift shop checkout queue caused by the brand necessity of having to “adopt” your doll as you pay for it: “there are real live children in Russia you can buy with fewer formalities, and for less money.”
Shanahan wants more than laughs though and tries to unpick whether Babyland might be the pivot where pervasive consumerism creates an unhealthy reality distortion field. Encountering a heavily made-up “nurse” cradle-rocking a doll, his spacey, semi-communicative non-conversation with her becomes an uneasy, Lynchian tableau – both innocuous scene and something darker. It’s lovely, lovely anti-travel writing and a pleasure of a chapter.
“White and wrongs”, set in 1996 South Africa, is similarly rewarding – devoid of any travel journo press junket gloss. Shanahan’s Johannesberg is “LA after the apocalypse ... an anti-city, a black hole metropolis where the bleakest predictions of the most pessimistic dystopians have come horribly true.” Well, that’s your retirement home sorted then Brendan.
He loathes the white suburbia his hosts live in and their attitudes to black staff – a country where “they lugged garbage while you sipped wine and did your White Mischief routine in the kitchen”; a country where public spaces are abandoned before sunset, afraid of the dark like peasants in a fairy tale; a country where home is a gated fortress hiding behind 12-foot walls and razor wire. These are barriers both physical and symbolic – the safe haven where you can complain about the difficulty of getting good servants, but also the damning Trumanesque ignorance-bubble that the rest of the world DOESN’T HAVE SERVANTS.
Shanahan is no disinterested observer though – desperate here that his host’s maid, Sunday, realises he’s better than the braying racists she works for – “a white emissary from a land of freedom and kindness”. Does he succeed? Buy the book people - and do so knowing that he always has the backbone to mirror that bright shining light of Truth to Power back on himself.
As good as this stuff is, it also reveals an arguable flaw in Lady Water. 1996 South Africa is way back when, well documented by the brilliance of Rian Malan and others. What I think I wanted here was a picture of South Africa in 2013. Have the 12 foot walls become 9? Does Sunday have a servant? The author is upfront and honest about the timeframe these pieces cover, but it still nags a touch.
Throughout, Shanahan is determined to engage with the people as much as the place. There's a LOT of dialogue here, all minty-fresh-contemperaneous-transcription-dropbox-sync snappy. Hmm – the author either has a perfect memory or...
Well, let’s not go there. It’s impossible to pinpoint exactly where Shanahan sits on the spectrum between Hansard and James Frey, but it's easy to imagine him slightly right of centre. A little literary license is OK of course, and expected, but the amount of dialogue here did surprise.
The final piece, Las Vegas as instagram-vivid literary postcards, is quality writing, but feels fragmentary – observations too “small” for a collection like this. To call it filler would be wrong – even here the author has no interest in the low-hanging fruit of The Strip or the casinos – but there’s less heft than there should be.
Overall, In Mr Snack and the Lady Water Shanahan’s blend of brutal observation and not a little cruelty is difficult to warm to, but comes with real conviction and provides genuine literary value. I’m glad I had the opportunity to read this, and hope to see more, up-to-date, travel writing from him – ideally a single journey on a single theme.
So - right places, arguably wrong times.
Copy supplied by Netgalley, but all opinions are my own - quelle surprise
Review updated 24 March 2013
The author has correctly and reasonably pointed put an error I made in describing some time he spent sleeping in a house in Varanasi as "overnight" when in fact it was a shorter time period than this. I'm happy to correct this and the paragraph has had to be significantly rewritten.
Shanahan picks his targets well in this collection – you probably do not own short-sleeved casual wear from these locations. In “Babyland” he discovers the official Cabbage Patch doll theme park, housed in a former American hospital complete with uniformed “medical staff” and dolls as patients, including preemies in incubators.
Yes, really.
Granted, with that set-up an illiterate Martian could no doubt spec-pitch a New Yorker feature, but even so the author gets somewhere special here. On the gift shop checkout queue caused by the brand necessity of having to “adopt” your doll as you pay for it: “there are real live children in Russia you can buy with fewer formalities, and for less money.”
Shanahan wants more than laughs though and tries to unpick whether Babyland might be the pivot where pervasive consumerism creates an unhealthy reality distortion field. Encountering a heavily made-up “nurse” cradle-rocking a doll, his spacey, semi-communicative non-conversation with her becomes an uneasy, Lynchian tableau – both innocuous scene and something darker. It’s lovely, lovely anti-travel writing and a pleasure of a chapter.
“White and wrongs”, set in 1996 South Africa, is similarly rewarding – devoid of any travel journo press junket gloss. Shanahan’s Johannesberg is “LA after the apocalypse ... an anti-city, a black hole metropolis where the bleakest predictions of the most pessimistic dystopians have come horribly true.” Well, that’s your retirement home sorted then Brendan.
He loathes the white suburbia his hosts live in and their attitudes to black staff – a country where “they lugged garbage while you sipped wine and did your White Mischief routine in the kitchen”; a country where public spaces are abandoned before sunset, afraid of the dark like peasants in a fairy tale; a country where home is a gated fortress hiding behind 12-foot walls and razor wire. These are barriers both physical and symbolic – the safe haven where you can complain about the difficulty of getting good servants, but also the damning Trumanesque ignorance-bubble that the rest of the world DOESN’T HAVE SERVANTS.
Shanahan is no disinterested observer though – desperate here that his host’s maid, Sunday, realises he’s better than the braying racists she works for – “a white emissary from a land of freedom and kindness”. Does he succeed? Buy the book people - and do so knowing that he always has the backbone to mirror that bright shining light of Truth to Power back on himself.
As good as this stuff is, it also reveals an arguable flaw in Lady Water. 1996 South Africa is way back when, well documented by the brilliance of Rian Malan and others. What I think I wanted here was a picture of South Africa in 2013. Have the 12 foot walls become 9? Does Sunday have a servant? The author is upfront and honest about the timeframe these pieces cover, but it still nags a touch.
Throughout, Shanahan is determined to engage with the people as much as the place. There's a LOT of dialogue here, all minty-fresh-contemperaneous-transcription-dropbox-sync snappy. Hmm – the author either has a perfect memory or...
Well, let’s not go there. It’s impossible to pinpoint exactly where Shanahan sits on the spectrum between Hansard and James Frey, but it's easy to imagine him slightly right of centre. A little literary license is OK of course, and expected, but the amount of dialogue here did surprise.
The final piece, Las Vegas as instagram-vivid literary postcards, is quality writing, but feels fragmentary – observations too “small” for a collection like this. To call it filler would be wrong – even here the author has no interest in the low-hanging fruit of The Strip or the casinos – but there’s less heft than there should be.
Overall, In Mr Snack and the Lady Water Shanahan’s blend of brutal observation and not a little cruelty is difficult to warm to, but comes with real conviction and provides genuine literary value. I’m glad I had the opportunity to read this, and hope to see more, up-to-date, travel writing from him – ideally a single journey on a single theme.
So - right places, arguably wrong times.
Copy supplied by Netgalley, but all opinions are my own - quelle surprise
Review updated 24 March 2013
The author has correctly and reasonably pointed put an error I made in describing some time he spent sleeping in a house in Varanasi as "overnight" when in fact it was a shorter time period than this. I'm happy to correct this and the paragraph has had to be significantly rewritten.
August 22, 2013
This is travel writing in which no country comes off well, and some, for example, South Africa, come off spectacularly badly. It is not a book that encourages travel and it certainly shouldn’t to be read by any with offspring about to embark on a round-the-world gap year. In fact, it is difficult to gauge the intended readership for this collection of what are essentially anecdotes. The ‘earthy’ humour suggests it might be adolescents; while the incidents described are the familiar kind of fuel for competitive story-telling between seasoned backpackers on a night train taken to reduce accommodation costs.
Several tales are rather dated, as Shanahan admits, most notably the opening chapter in which a particularly unpleasant cruise along the Yangtze in 1990s China, is described in stomach-turning detail. The writing and the writing style are uneven. However, this is serendipitous – had Shanahan sustained the raucous style of the initial chapters, then this reader would have shut the book halfway through with a disappointed sigh, and so missed the final chapter, in which the author demonstrates both that travel can broaden the mind; and that good travel writing doesn’t depend on picaresque.
Several tales are rather dated, as Shanahan admits, most notably the opening chapter in which a particularly unpleasant cruise along the Yangtze in 1990s China, is described in stomach-turning detail. The writing and the writing style are uneven. However, this is serendipitous – had Shanahan sustained the raucous style of the initial chapters, then this reader would have shut the book halfway through with a disappointed sigh, and so missed the final chapter, in which the author demonstrates both that travel can broaden the mind; and that good travel writing doesn’t depend on picaresque.
March 11, 2025
I loved *Mr. Snack and the Lady Water* for its water travel adventures. If you enjoy that, you must visit the *ESA Dhow Cruise* in Dubai – it’s the perfect water adventure with stunning views!
https://dhowcruise-dubai.ae/
https://dhowcruise-dubai.ae/
May 20, 2020
Some good travel stories written with good humour
October 15, 2013
Brendan Shanahan writes the way I wish I could. Something on every page of this book made me smile at his wittiness. I have never read a book with this kind of dark comedy and I loved it.
The book follows Brendan through several of his travels. Most sound exactly how you would NOT want your trip to go, but this writer seems to take it all in stride. Maybe after all his traveling he already realizes and expects something crazy to happen to him.
I particularly like when he writes of his trip to Washington, D.C during New Years. Reading about all the different personalities in the hostel he stayed at and his experiences with them was hilarious, unfortunately at his expense.
I look forward to reading more from this author.
The book follows Brendan through several of his travels. Most sound exactly how you would NOT want your trip to go, but this writer seems to take it all in stride. Maybe after all his traveling he already realizes and expects something crazy to happen to him.
I particularly like when he writes of his trip to Washington, D.C during New Years. Reading about all the different personalities in the hostel he stayed at and his experiences with them was hilarious, unfortunately at his expense.
I look forward to reading more from this author.
May 16, 2013
What to say about this book. Firstly I read it in sections, which is something I rarely do. I guess one could conclude that it didnt hold my attention to get through it one hit, but thats not true. This book is more than a travel diary, its a warts and all account of one man's travels. I found myself laughing and cringing at all the right moments. My sensitivities were challenged greatly by the stories from South Africa. I was a little disappointed in how Las Vegas was covered, but hey its Shanahan's story not mine. If you like reading about real places and REAL people this is your book.
June 22, 2013
I cringed and smiled, often at the same time, as I read Brendan's exploits. I enjoyed the honesty and the insights into his mind as he grappled with the odd situations he found himself in. Brendan's writing is easy to read and relate to.
October 2, 2013
It was very funny overall, but the writing quality was patchy and varied between the Author's short stories.
January 7, 2014
quite a humerous tale. It brought many memories as I travelled the Yangtze in 2000 on a Chinese river boat. I met similar characters along the way. Recommend for a bit of light reading
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews