Our story begins with falling in love with France, specifically the enchanting Dordogne. We weren’t the first and we won’t be the last. The region was an inspiration to prehistoric man, as the earliest known works of art are to be found in the nearby caves of Lascaux. From the 1000 chateaux perched on towering cliffs overhanging the meandering Dordogne River to the countless plus beaux villages (most beautiful villages) dotting the region, it is truly a magical place.The first book is a roller-coaster ride of the ups and downs of making the dream a reality, beginning with, Oh my God, are we really doing this?! To looking for the home, getting a loan, wading through the red tape of actually moving, and studying French! Finally, the most important part of making “our” dream come true, adopting a baby girl to make the journey complete.

    Why are we so ready to wave goodbye to the Sunshine State? In A Florida State of Mind: An Unnatural History of Our Weirdest State, James D. Wright makes the case that there are plenty of reasons to be scandalized by the land and its sometimes-kooky, sometimes-terrifying denizens, but there's also plenty of room for hilarity.Florida didn't just become weird; it's built that way. Uncharted swampland doesn't easily give way to sprawling suburbia. It took violent colonization, land scams to trick non-Floridians into buying undeveloped property, and the development of railroads to benefit one man's hotel empire.Even the most natural parts of Florida are unnatural. Florida citrus? Not from here, but from China. Gators? Oh, they're from Florida all right, but that doesn't make having 1 per every 20 humans normal. Animals...in the form of roadkill? Only Florida allows you to keep anything you kill on the road (and anything you find). Yet everyone loves Florida: tourists come in droves, and people relocate to Florida constantly (only 36% of residents were born there). Crammed with unforgettable stories and facts, Florida will show readers exactly why.

     Includes Overdue Account, Walter's Cargo Shorts, Simon's Piecharts, Missing Missy, Obviously a Foggot, Formal Complaints, Justin’s Floodlight, Matthew’s Party, Permission Slip and many more.

    He has a loving family, a successful career, and good friends. He is fortunate in many ways, and he knows it. But Pat also knows one other thing. Negativity had seized him; his life’s glass always seemed half empty. Despite the blessings of a prosperous life, Pat lives with a sense of dissatisfaction. He’s haunted by a feeling of purposelessness for which he cannot seem to find a solution. When a fateful phone call puts Pat on the proverbial edge, he knows he needs answers even if he doesn’t know the questions. Pat recalls hearing of the Camino de Santiago—the five-hundred-mile spiritual path through France and Spain that ends at the traditional burial site of James the Apostle. In his state of unrest and longing, Pat makes the bold decision to embark upon the ancient pilgrimage on foot. Two Million Steps captures Pat’s incredible journey of self-discovery along his trek through Europe and the places, people, and events he encounters along the way. For Pat, physical pain becomes a badge of honor, and every step he takes leads him closer to healing his soul and to becoming a new person.

    And yes, there are lots of books about living in France out there already. But a lot of these are the short-term adventures of single people or retired couples or tourists. Moving abroad for good with a family, and without a pension, is a whole new ball game. That’s what makes Heads Above Water different. It’s about us, a family with three children, who stick the hardships out and make things start to work. It’s about actually making a living in a new country. It’s realistic, honest and gritty – but also fun, lively and very entertaining, and, I hope, ultimately inspiring.

    Gruchow turns a naturalist's eye on a wilderness of wolves, moose, and loons as he visits national parks and other scenic spots. Drawing on the works of Thoreau and Wendell Berry, he explores the relationship of person to place.

    

    Parched, tinder-dry fields. There are alien invasions, military maneuvers and toxic waste, and all before the Wood family even start their Alpine caravan adventure. Why? Because it is fun. It is holidays. Travelling in a Box is about a family and their passion for all things camping and caravanning. As they embark upon a pan-European adventure with their thirty-year-old caravan in tow, will their unbreakable tolerance for ‘fun’ be pushed to new limits?

    I was in no real rush to get back home immediately and I fancied a bit of a stroll anyway. This stroll took me over a month to complete, and as the chilly autumn became a very cold winter I realised that living the life of a hobo wasn't as easy as one may think. The only only items on my person that kept me going through the seven weeks or so was a hot water bottle, a single calor gas stove and my radio. But there were times when even those life savers ran out of their respective fuels, and soon depression, hunger and eventual thieving, took priority for my needs.      This is the story of my 250 mile walk home to Birmingham from St. Ives, Cornwall, in the autumn of 1990.

    As soon as they drive across Andalusia, they fall in love with its rugged beauty, whitewashed villages, red geraniums, giant aloes, and endless olive trees. After weeks of visiting ruins and dilapidated sheds advertised as homes, they find a little stone cottage in a mountain valley in the middle of nowhere. Equipped with everything that a romantic soul desires: a patio shaded by grape vines, an ancient bay leaf tree, and a formidable oak in front of a long driveway, they fall in love with this property and decide to reform it into a guest house. With little foresight or planning, they exchange cushy expats lives for a life in the sun.Quite quickly, however, they find themselves battling cowboy builders, no electricity, a dry well, torrential rain storms, and a freezing cold winter without a roof over their heads. Through all these adventures, they develop relations with their neighbours who had lived in the valley for many generations. Puzzled by the strangers’ behaviour, the neighbours teach them about olive picking, and the cultivation of local vegetables. But primarily, they offer their endless generosity and insight into life in rural Andalusia.As they begin to settle in, financial problems confront our somewhat naïve couple. Without steady pay checks and construction bills piling up, their idea of the good life starts to fall apart. Written with a wry sense of honest humour, this story is filled with twists and turns that take the reader on a journey from a life where every day was monotonously repetitive to a place where every day presents a new challenge.

    Luckily, something remarkable happens wherever he roams. With his keen eye and original voice, he portrays evocative travel moments both big and small. In Sarajevo, he skis with soldiers at the height of the Bosnian War. Outside a Mexican bullring, two boys mistake him for their idol, a professional wrestler. And returning to a tropical paradise, he’s assigned the same hotel room where an older woman broke his heart five years earlier.Along the way, he challenges a rival to a goat race in Saudi Arabia, searches for his missing shoes with barefooted villagers in Honduras, plunges through the Himalayas in aviation’s most terrifying final approach, and joins the U.S. Navy—for one week, anyway. To top it off, he reveals his favorite travel tip gleaned from forty years of globetrotting.By turns hilarious, wistful, and dramatic, The Distance Between draws a captivating self-portrait of a lifelong vagabond and a writer critics call “a reader’s dream” (San Diego Union-Tribune).

    

    The news is full of archaeology: treasures found (British king under parking lot) and treasures lost (looters, bulldozers, natural disaster, and war). Archaeological research tantalizes us with possibilities (are modern humans really part Neandertal?). Where are the archaeologists behind these stories? What kind of work do they actually do, and why does it matter?Marilyn Johnson’s Lives in Ruins is an absorbing and entertaining look at the lives of contemporary archaeologists as they sweat under the sun for clues to the puzzle of our past. Johnson digs and drinks alongside archaeologists, chases them through the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, and even Machu Picchu, and excavates their lives. Her subjects share stories we rarely read in history books, about slaves and Ice Age hunters, ordinary soldiers of the American Revolution, children of the first century, Chinese woman warriors, sunken fleets, mummies.What drives these archaeologists is not the money (meager) or the jobs (scarce) or the working conditions (dangerous), but their passion for the stories that would otherwise be buried and lost.

    From 'The hideousness of the art world', 'Being thick is no obstacle to being a successful artist' and 'Painting is a blind man's obsession'; to 'Socialising for party duds', 'Love may be blind, but marriage is an eye-opener' and 'If it can't be explained by science, try a seance'.

     Returning home to a job I didn’t enjoy, that dream burned at my mind until, as a mature student in 1999, I was given the opportunity to take a year out and decided now was my time. This was at a time of huge advances in communication technology but I chose to journey without a mobile phone or any other means of communicating with the outside world – something we might struggle to comprehend these days. If I got into trouble, if I got injured, if I became lost, it was up to me to sort myself out. No close friends were willing to leave the comforts of home, so the fledgling internet did at least prove useful in finding a travel companion. But within nine days of the start of my journey I found myself alone, close to the bottom of the world and with many thousands of miles of the unknown still ahead. This book tells how the desire to fulfil a burning ten-year dream helped me overcome illness, injury, exhaustion, loneliness and so much more; how I, a normal guy from a working-class family in Leeds – among many other adventures – found myself singing to bears to keep them at bay, ran out of water crossing the driest desert in the world, had a volcano rain ash down on me and found myself hiding out from bandits most nights while pedalling through Mexico.