So I finally read it. I didn’t expect to think it was the best book ever (and it must be, the way everyone’s talked about it for years), and I didn’t. It was just too long. In each country I got heartily sick of the author about halfway through. I’d have preferred a 200-page book rather than one over 300 pages.
I imagine I’d have liked it better if I’d related more to the author, but I am nothing like her. She turned me off a lot at the beginning when she was blathering on and on and on about why she wasn’t having children. And then more blathering about relationships. India and Indonesia were better than Italy, because at least she quit blathering (and got happier- no coincidence).
There were parts I liked, especially when she talked about the people she met, but it was such a self-focused book that I’m honestly surprised at how popular it is. Maybe I shouldn’t be. It’s almost self-help disguised as a travel book.