Looking for a 'life challenge' to coincide with his 30th birthday, Mark comes up with the ridiculous notion of quitting his burgeoning (sort of) career and heading out to discover one country for each of his thirty years on Earth. What follows is a madcap, backpacking adventure spanning 30 countries, four continents and over a hundred cities and towns in nine breakneck months.
30: A Sense of Adventure and No Sense of Direction is a collection of laugh-out-loud anecdotes and short stories from an unforgettable journey.
I will remember the first night of my trip for a long time. Not with any fondness I’m afraid, but because I was stuck in an uncomfortable situation. Still feeling a little tender from my boozy farewell the previous night, I’d disinterestedly picked at my dinner in a nearby bar with two American lads - a likeable young student and a sleazy, overweight greaseball. Estonia has more than its fair share of beautiful women, and my slimy, lardbucket of a companion has taken it upon himself to make a lewd comment (coupled with a snort) every time one passes us by. After deciding that I really don’t want to spend any more time in the company of this irritating ogre, I return to the hostel. My fragile condition soon takes a turn for the worse and, before long, I find myself kneeling on the toilet floor ‘talking on the porcelain telephone’. Being the only toilet in the hostel and slap-bang next to the communal area, this means that all in the living area are well aware of what’s happening. After a good hour of loud vomiting, I emerge as a flaky ghost to some seriously funny looks (and a queue of miffed people waiting for the toilet). As I fall wearily onto my bunk, the sweats arrive and, as quickly as I can remove a couple of layers of clothing, the shivers are on the scene. All I can do is wrap up as warm as I can, close my eyes, curl into a ball and try to ignore the noise in the communal area around me. It’s still early, maybe 10pm; the TV is blaring out ‘The Simpsons’ at full blast, someone is crashing around in the kitchen (it sounds as if they’re trying to prepare a meal blindfolded) and a girl nearby is packing and re-packing her bag over and over again (how can one bag have that many zips?) - I assume she has a stopwatch and is attempting to beat her packing/re-packing personal best.
All this combined made for a miserable night. Unbeknown to me, it doesn’t seem to get dark in Eastern Europe (at this particular time of year anyway) so the window by my head lets in the semi-dark evening light whilst I intermittently sweat and shiver. Individuals return to the hostel during the course of the night and every sound is amplified in my head. At one point during the peak of the fever, madness sets in and I decide that I’m going to walk home to England and scrap the whole trip. Fortunately, the need to vomit again means that I don’t have to follow up on the logistics of this bright idea.
When I open my eyes the following morning, I’m surprised to find myself back in my bunk bed as the last thing I remember was nodding off whilst hugging the toilet for comfort. Other than still suffering from a lack of sleep, I don’t feel too bad. I figure I must have had one of those ‘twenty-four hour bugs’ that people talk about – I’m unaware if there is an official medical name for this illness, but I’d be awfully surprised if it’s professionally recognised as the ‘twenty-four hour bug’.
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There are two types of dreams: those so bizarre and imaginative, and so out of reach that we think of them as nothing more but dreams. These sleep stories can be a buffet for a writer. Then, there are those dreams that are within our grasp, but often we are too busy to consider reaching for them. Maybe we choose to write about them as well instead of actually attempting to achieve them. Not Mark Callaghan.
I recall with some clarity the moment I knew that I didn’t want to sit in an office and dream up inventive ways of wasting time until 5pm any longer.
And so begins a book about one man’s longing for adventure at a time in his life when he is weeks away from saying good-bye to his twenties and realizes he’s already punched too much time on the clock for someone else. So in 2005 while sitting on the toilet and playing video games on his cell phone, Mark has an epiphany. In celebration of his 30th birthday, he’ll travel the world and see 30 countries - one for each year of his life. After selling everything he can on Ebay and maxing his credit cards to fund the trip, Mark isn’t even on his first flight when he gets a call from his travel agent telling him his “around-the-world” ticket has been canceled. He’s able to book another flight, but things aren’t looking up for him so far. But that doesn’t stop him from grabbing Clive the backpack (Mark gives names to his inanimate belongings - there’s a cute 1/2 chapter that talks about this) and gets on a plane!
First stop - Estonia where Mark offers an in-depth look at hostel living - vying for the bottom bunk, living in communal quarters and meeting others, and “talking on the porcelain telephone” (the only toilet in the place, mind you.) In Sooma, Mark stays in a hut-like community center swarming with unattended children (Think Children of the Corn, he says) only to find out that he is the only one staying there. The entire place is empty.
Those bloodthirsty children have murdered all the other travelers. Possibly.
Since he’s the only guest for the night the receptionist informs him he should take a walk through the bog to occupy his day. It’s a 5km trail, but it is also 6km away. The receptionist offers to drive him out to the trail, but Mark will have to find his own way back. While on the trail, Mark remains leery of witches rumored to inhabit the bog and ends up crashing a party of croaking frogs while imitating Paul McCartney’s The Frog Chorus. He catches a ride back with a local Estonian who stops and picks him up. Not able to speak the language, Mark becomes really good at playing charades in order to communicate.
Mark’s off-the-wall commentary and quirky details are what make this type of book so much fun to read. We’ve all sat through Gramp’s vacation slides to the Rocky’s or a coworker’s photo albums from their honeymoon cruise, but nothing beats the minute details that stick out in our minds above all else like DJ Tomas, the Lithuanian bus driver taking accordion music requests on the way to Warsaw, or Mark’s bus trip to Auschwitz with a group of frat boys. Some of my favorites from the book were a toe nail clipping episode in a hostel in front of a scantily clad American girl, the train of terror, and some ‘massage, lady, boom-boom’ in Siem Reap.
Mark pushes you through each country quite quickly, often leaving out details when you might have wanted more of them, but he doesn’t bore you with philosophical self discoveries while out on the mountain tops. You know Mark’s purpose for the journey right from the start, so there are no hidden meanings to life to be uncovered in his travels although I’m sure he experienced plenty.
Ireland, Cambodia, Australia, New Zealand, Buenos Aries, Chile, Italy, Peru…this book is an “off the beaten path” non-touristy paradise. Sure, Mark saw the David statue in Florence just like everyone else, but he made it a point to experience much more than what anyone would find in their travel brochure. Unfortunately, the book does come to an abrudt ending where “normality and routine suddenly kick in.” Mark is back at work again and earning a paycheck. His stories of adventure are growing dust. BUT…the answer to the question, “Is there more to life than this?,” has been answered. Indeed there is.
And as Mark puts it, anything can happen.
I would have enjoyed pictures to accompany each country (Mark was nice enough to send me a few to include in this review). But overall this is a great book for anyone who ever received Dr. Seuss’s Oh, The Places You’ll Go as a graduation gift, for the would-be tourist, or simply for anyone stuck behind a desk all day and too busy dreaming about what they’d really like to do in life. It will motivate you to take chances and enjoy the journey along the way. One of the best, and most inspiring, books I’ve read all year!
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