Cruelest Journey
Six Hundred Miles To Timbuktu
by Kira Salak
Overview
From Booklist
From Booklist
Salak's second travel memoir--her first, Four Corners (2001), chronicled her trip deep into Papua New Guinea--takes her down the Niger River to Timbuktu, following the trail of Scottish explorer Mungo Park, who more than 200 years before attempted the same journey. Salak decides to take the journey alone on a kayak, hoping to recapture Park's sense of wonder and determination. Her journey gets off to an inauspicious start when she injures her arm on the very first day of her journey. But Salak preseveres, and spends day in and day out paddling down the river. Along the way, she encounters various tribes, some friendlier than others, and grapples with her own reactions to some of their traditions, such as female genital mutilation. She also muses on Park's two difficult journeys down the river, seeking the elusive golden city of Timbuktu. Salak's trip is deeply personal, and she shares her fears, her triumphs, and her thoughts along the way with the reader, making it an accessible, involving journey for her audience. Kristine Huntley
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
My thoughts
This is a fantastic book! Kira Salak is a gifted writer and an amazing adventurer with a touch of historian! Intertwining the historical account of a similar trip made by explorer Mungo Park in the 1700's with her present day trip in the red, inflatable kayak was delightful. There was just enough history with just enough adventure to keep me on the edge of my chair.
The book has a couple of shocking sections as she describes some brutal practices of the people she meets along the way. It will make you wonder why we all aren't down there fighting for basic human rights. She also meets some people who will make you smile and almost make you want to trek to Africa to experience it for yourself.
Excellent book. I highly recommend it!
Favorite Passage
I paid an old man to make me a couple of skirts for my kayaking trip. You could order anything there, and it would be made in a matter of minutes by expert hands. I explained that I'd like elastic at the top - a preference of practicality over the wrapped sarong - and he gave a boy some money and sent him off. The boy returned out of breath, handing over rolls of elastic. My waist and leg length was quickly measured, the man sat down to his machine, and ten minutes later he handed over two skirts, hemmed and pleated. When I asked how much, he stated his price in Malian money: $1.50. He looked at me warily; I could tell he thought he had overcharged me. When I doubled the amount and handed it to him, he touched it to his forehead and smiled a toothless grin.
