I am a bit Scotland mad, and will read most things Scotland related. If I can't be going on holiday up there, I might as well be reading about the wilderness and the scenary. I also enjoy travel books, especially the slower modes of transport such as cycling and walking. So really, this book ought to have been right up my street. It's the tale of Richard Guise, recently retired, going on a two week cycling holiday in Scotland travelling up the west coast.
I am now three chapters in and it is making me angry and bored so I'm quitting here. There is no sense of place or experiencing Scotland beyond the sparse photographs in the middle of the book. Scottish people he has met so far are twee characateurs, all speaking in his version of Scots. And his writing style is really, seriously not my cup of tea. It sounds like a middle aged, middle class man of suburban Southern England (if he does stereotypes, why can't I?) who is attempting to be down with the kids by writing in a "cool" way. But in the proud tradition of embarassing dads, it just leaves you feeling uncomfortable. Or at least that's the vibe I get. I really don't want to read any more. Here's one of his jokes: what do Robert the Bruce and Winnie the Pooh have in common? The same middle name!!!
Nope, really not my thing, and it reminds me that travel writing is a talent. Never underappreciate Dervla Murphy.