Armed only with a twelfth-century handbook to the route and expert advice on donkey management from Robert Louis Stevenson, Moore and his four-legged companion travel the ancient five-hundred-mile route from St. Jean Pied-de-Port, on the French side of the Pyrenees, to the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela which houses the remains of Spain's patron saint, St. James.Over sun-scorched highways, precipitous bridges, dirt paths shaded by leafy trees, and vineyards occasionally lashed by downpours, Moore and Shinto pass through some of northern Spain's oldest towns and cities in colorful company. Clearly more interested in Shinto than in Moore, their fellow walkers are an assortment of devout Christian pilgrims, New Age--spirituality seekers aspiring to be the next Shirley Maclaine, Baby Boomers contemplating middle age, and John Q Public just out for a cheap, boozy sun-drenched outdoor holiday.As Moore pushes, pulls, wheedles, cajoles, and threatens Shinto across Spain, the duo overnights in the bedrooms, dormitories, and---for Shinto---grassy fields of northern Spain. Shinto, a donkey with a finely honed talent for relieving himself at the most inopportune moments, has better luck in the search for his next meal than Moore does in finding his inner pilgrim. Undaunted, however, Man and Beast finally arrive at the cathedral and a successful end to their journey. For readers who delighted in his earlier books, Travels With my Donkey is the next hilarious chapter in the travels of Tim Moore, a book that keeps the bones of St. James rattling to this day.

    Chesterton, the act of getting to and from a pub is central to an understanding of British life and landscape. So bon viveur, pub singer and writer Ian Marchant set off with photographer Perry Venus on a gruelling month long British pub crawl, to go to and from a lot of pubs in order to test Chesterton's hypothesis.

    Truth is, travel can make or break a relationship. Just negotiating when to leave for the airport can be tricky: she insists on arriving hours ahead of flight time, he likes the excitement of a photo finish. But as Mary-Lou Weisman sees it, "The inevitable rage with which we begin each trip only helps us to better appreciate the good times that lie ahead." Or maybe not. When people have jet lag, can't speak the language, figure out the money, or maintain intestinal regularity, they get cranky. And since they don't know anybody else in Kyoto to take it out on, they take it out on each other. Alas, couples therapy is rarely available on vacation, which is why we need this hilarious and truthful take on travel and togetherness. Using her own misadventures--from honeymoon through Elderhostel--Weisman exposes all the gender landmines: Destinations: He wants to outrun molten lava down a volcano, she prefers raking gravel in a Buddhist monastery. Motivations: She longs for a change of scenery, he hopes for a change of self. Preparations: She keeps a file of required sights, he won't be bullied by travel guides. Accommodations: She divides every hotel room in half so he'll know on which side of the bed to throw his wet towel. Inclinations: She shops a country, he eats it. This is the real skinny on what happens when Mars and Venus hit the road. With a sly wink, a comic nod, and just the right amount of optimism, Weisman shows us that despite the shortcomings of one's beloved, harmonious travel is possible.

    In McCarthy's Bar, his journey begins in Cork and continues along the west coast to Donegal in the north. Traveling through spectacular landscapes, but at all times obeying the rule, "never pass a bar that has your name on it," he encounters McCarthy's bars up and down the land, meeting fascinating people before pleading to be let out at four o'clock in the morning.Written by someone who is at once an insider and an outside, McCarthy's Bar is a wonderfully funny and affectionate portrait of a rapidly changing country.

    The dos and don'ts of travelling and staying in Iceland. Five chapters with multiple tips in each one explain what is expected of you as a traveller - as well as some bonus tips on what you can do.

    But despite a brave new world of Casio hand-held calculators and digital watches, one thing remained the same: the family holiday. For the Seventies child, summer holidays didn't mean the joy of CentreParcs or the sophistication of a Tuscan villa. They meant being crammed into a car with Grandma and heading to the coast. With just a tent for a home and a bucket for the necessities, we would set off on new adventures each year stoically resolving to enjoy ourselves.For Emma Kennedy, and her mum and dad, disaster always came along for the ride no matter where they went. Whether it was swept away by a force ten gale on the Welsh coast or suffering copious amounts of food poisoning on a brave trip to the south of France, family holidays alwaysleft them battered and bruised.But they never gave up. Emma's memoir, The Tent, the Bucket and Me,is a painfully funny reminder of just what it was like to spend your summer holidays cold, damp but with sand between your toes.

    'Kevin and I in India' is the unexpurgated, often outrageous, diary of their travels – from the hill-stations of the deep south to the Taj Mahal in the north, from the Goan beaches of the west to the sacred Ganges and the Bodhi Tree in the east. Full of anecdotes, observations and travellers’ tales, the two Englishmen weave a crazy, erratic path through a variety of adventures and misadventures, in constant battle against officialdom, insects, heat, dust, ticket-queues and mad traffic. Here is the real India – stripped of illusion, but adorned with humour and exuberance. Here is a kaleidoscopic potpourri of fascinating sights, scenes and people, with each day of the journey more exciting, more packed with incident, than the last.

    It's not about memorizing lists of dates or names, or remembering which general won what battle. Instead, BIZARRE HISTORY merrily digs up the scandals, the strangeness, and the scintillating details that illuminate personalities, events, and real life. Think of it not as a textbook, but as history’s juicy unauthorized biography--a historical document in which relevance never gets in the way of a good read. There are humorous quotes from famous figures such as Mark Twain and Napoleon ("History is a myth that men agree to believe"), as well as witty commentary about leaders of the past. After all, while you're probably familiar with William the Conquerer, have you heard of Charles the Simple, ruler of France and son of Louis the Stammerer? What about the emperor who entered Rome in a chariot drawn by 50 naked slaves—and invented the first whoopee cushion, too? But you can find lots of wildness closer to home: George Washington wrote love letters to a married woman; "Old Hickory" Andrew Jackson had been in at least seven duels before becoming president; and Benjamin Franklin fathered an illegitimate child. Paranoia also plagued a few of our presidents: the only thing Franklin Roosevelt had to fear was the number 13: he wouldn't invite 13 guests to a dinner party or travel on the 13th. And both Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan had encounters with UFOs! The fun facts span the globe, covering the crazy acts of Caligula in the Roman Empire; the "Dog Shogun" in 17th century Japan; the "Pork and Beans" war between the US and Canada; and even details about fashion, medicine, sports, and the real Dracula. It's a wild journey that no one could resist!

     Join George and Rachel on their hilarious journey through the wilds of Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia, as they climb volcanoes, fish for piranhas, trek through the Amazon rainforest, take death-defying bus rides, sample some of the continent’s strangest delicacies, and try to get to Machu Picchu. Armed only with a basic knowledge of Spanish, small backpacks, and bags of enthusiasm, they set off together on what promised to be a life-changing adventure.

    Like a house. We could just buy a block of land, you know, the four of us, and have a go.' It was just an idea. then it started to take shape. In this frank, funny and thought-provoking memoir, Richard Glover describes how he and his friend Philip and their partners built a house in the bush on weekends. It was a huge and exhausting undertaking ... not least because they decided to use mudbricks. 'Imagine this - with mudbrick you have a building that is made out of the very earth it stands on ... there is another thing: the stuff is free. Once we buy the land we'll have no money left. this way we can get started as soon as we have the block.' In the end it took three years simply to make the bricks. As for the house itself ... But the process gave Richard the opportunity to examine things he had never quite reconciled to himself - big things like what it means to be a man, the nature of male relationships, fatherhood - and to challenge himself in the kind of blokey environment he had rejected. Above all, the mud house proved that even if it 'wasn't the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel' there is nothing like the satisfaction of making something with your own hands.

    They visit Scotland, Israel, America, France and Ireland. They even hold a party in London where 50 Dave Gormans attend, including two women who have kindly changed their name via deed-poll. Silly, but engrossing, fascinating and addictive - and a touching, funny story of two friends who grow to share a mutual obsession.

    Furthermore, we were convinced that every other set of parents we knew was perfect. They were more thorough in going over their kids' homework, they set better boundaries than we do, didn't let their kids watch as many hours of TV as we do, raised kids who are unfailingly polite in public and have a far greater sense of community and public service than our underachieving offspring over there on the couch watching SpongeBob. We were certain everybody else's kids willingly and joyfully eat nothing but healthy foods, shunning all candy and candy-based products, they all sensibly and automatically put on weather-appropriate clothing, and voluntarily call their grandparents with clockwork regularity, giving fully detailed accounts of their numerous accomplishments, ending with testimonials to their wonderful and perfect parents.Turns out: not so much. At all.In the number one New York Times bestseller Couplehood, Paul Reiser wrote about the highs and lows of falling in love and getting married-and the heartbreak and hilarity that comes with it. In Babyhood, he turned his sharply observant eye to the experiences of having a brand-new family. And now in Familyhood, Reiser shares his observations on parenting, marriage, and mid-life with the wit, warmth, and humor that he's so well-known for.From the first experience of sending his two boys off to summer camp-the early feelings of gleeful freedom in an empty house, to realizing how empty the house actually was-to maneuvering the minefield of bad words learned at school, this hilarious new book captures the spirit of familyhood, the logical next frontier for Reiser's trademark perspective on the universal truths of life, love, and relationships.

    Based on Stephen Clarke's own experiences and with names changed to "avoid embarrassment, possible legal action, and to prevent the author's legs being broken by someone in a Yves Saint Laurent suit," A Year in the Merde provides perfect entertainment for Francophiles and Francophobes alike.

    Urzila talks candidly about her childhood with a great family, apart from her abusive dad, and about growing up in South Africa. She shares crazy but true tales about her OE, her move to New Zealand, coming out, getting married and having children, and her life in comedy. This is a great listen from one of our most loved and most popular comedians.

    The columnist-author sheds light on some of the important matters of life, such as the care of Willie Nelson albums and the problems of finding clean underwear when you live alone