In a Sunburned Country

by Bill Bryson

“I cannot read a simple map. I can read a good map. This map, however, is useless. Less than useless. It is the print equivalent of your driving, if I may say

“Wheredafukarwi Touring Club.”

this was the only place in the world where visitors could with relative ease examine these singular creations in their full understated glory. So in fact, I concluded—and here I offered my warmest, most ingratiating smile—this really was worth crossing a continent for.