Drawn directly from the author?s extraordinary experiences over the course of a nine-month, 10,000-mile, solitary bicycle trip through Australia, this thoroughly engaging travel memoir offers an uncommonly intimate glimpse into the heart of the land down under. Immersing readers in all the excitement and anticipation of a nation facing the challenges of a new century, Cold Beer and Crocodiles: A Bicycle Journey into Australia is a deeply affectionate portrayal of this most alluring continent.
In 1996, award-winning American author and expatriate journalist Roff Smith set off, a lone man on his trusty bicycle, seeking to lose himself among the cattle stations, mining towns, Aboriginal communities, rain forests, and desert campsites. ?Somewhere in those thousands of miles,? Smith writes, ?I had gained a new home. It was the people I met more than anything else that opened my eyes to what it meant to be an Australian and instilled in me a deep and newfound pride in my adopted country.?
Smith?s genuine passion for his subject is infectious, and his graceful, insightful writing places Cold Beer and Crocodiles on the shelf beside Bruce Chatwin?s classic The Songlines.
It's not every day that a fellow decides to pack in a good job, pack up his saddlebags, and set off by bicycle to make a circumferential journey around Australia. In 1996, that's just what American-born
Time magazine correspondent Roff Martin Smith did, though; as he explains, he'd been living in Australia for 14 years but didn't really know the country, and he "felt no emotional bond to it." About to turn 38, a few pounds over his ideal weight, and untested as a distance bicyclist, Smith faced up to considerable odds, but he survived to tell the tale.
And a rollicking tale it is, as Smith meets with an odd assortment of humans and critters along his sometimes torturous path. (One all-too-long stretch of road, for instance, he calls "the most dangerous and frightening I've ever had the misfortune to ride: a suicide run of hammering trucks, heavy construction, muddy detours, and lane closures.") Smith logs time in crocodile country, too, in the far northern Australian rainforest, where he counts the awful moments until antediluvian doom strikes. It never does, and in any event the crocs are nothing compared to the errant sheep, emus, kangaroos, and death adders he encounters, to say nothing of the 108-degree gusts euphemistically referred to by local weathercasters as "sea breezes"--none of which poses quite the dangers that his fellow humans offer out on the beery highways of Oz. Difficult though the journey is, Smith keeps up his good cheer throughout these lively pages, and, if he's not quite unflappable, he's certainly a sympathetic narrator.
Expanded from his popular three-part series in National Geographic magazine, Smith's pedal-powered epic is an instructive manual for anyone contemplating a life-changing journey--and, for the rest of us, a highly enjoyable, altogether unexpected tour of the outback. --Gregory McNamee
