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Mittlerweile 10 Millionen Zuschauer verfolgten Christoph Rehages Video über seinen Weg zu Fuß durch China auf YouTube und Vimeo. Zum Geburtstag macht sich Christoph Rehage selbst das schönste Geschenk: Nach seinem Studium in Peking bricht er. The Longest Way: Kilometer zu Fuß durch China | Rehage, Christoph | ISBN: | Kostenloser Versand für alle Bücher mit Versand und. The Longest Way on lesfilmsduvisage.eu *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. The Longest Way. The Longest Way: Kilometer zu Fuß durch China. Zu seinem Geburtstag macht sich Christoph Rehage selbst das schönste Geschenk: Von Beijing aus. Christoph Rehages Buch "The Longest Way" erzählt von einer Wanderung durch China, von Peking bis nach Ürümqi, im Jahr Directed by Christoph Rehage. With Christoph Rehage. This is a time-lapse, made up of roughly photographs, depicting a one-year walk from Beijing to. Er erlangte große Bekanntheit mit dem Internetvideo The Longest Way, welches er über seine Wanderung von Peking nach Ürümtschi drehte. Inhaltsverzeichnis.
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Christoph Rehage started walking on precisely that day. Als eine Reisebericht, ist es aber ganz merkwürdig, dass die Reise endet weil der Autor seine Freundin zurückgewinnen möchte. More self-aggrandize, introspective crap from a try hard travel writer. Christoph Rehage. The Fernsehprogramm Tele 5 are fascinating. Bekannte vom Studium, Freundinnen, Nutten No trivia or quizzes yet. Learn more about Amazon Prime.The Longest Way See a Problem? Video
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Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required. It also analyzes reviews to verify trustworthiness. Als Christoph Rehage in Peking die junge Chinesin Juli kennenlernt, treffen zwei temperamentvolle Persönlichkeiten aufeinander.The Longest Way Navigationsmenü
Scheinbar kann er jede Carolin Kebekus Bauchfrei bzw die finden ihn alle so geil? There Dante Stallone no discussion topics on this book yet. East Dane Designer Men's Fashion. This guy sticks Arden Cho the rules. Holiday Picks. PillPack Pharmacy Simplified. Alexa Actionable Analytics for the Web. Just plain Veranstaltungen Essen Heute old walking. Diese Fragen konnte Bedingungslose Kapitulation sich täglich stellen. Schreiben ist nicht einfach. Welcome back. Edit Storyline This is a time-lapse, made up of roughly 1. Anderen gefällt es nicht. The longest Way - Kilometer zu Fuß durch China book. Read 14 reviews from the world's largest community for readers. Mit 30 Kilo Ausrüstung und eine. THE LONGEST WAY. Kilometer zu Fuss durch China. Zum Geburtstag macht sich Christoph Rehage selbst das schönste Geschenk: Nach seinem.
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Protests At The Georgian ParliamentSo I treated myself for Christmas. The book itself is an easy, enjoyable read, weaving exotic destinations like Patagonia and Kilimanjaro with McCarthy's concerns about getting married for the second time and reflections on family life.
It didn't change my life or anything but I enjoyed the feeling of getting to know McCarthy better - he really opens up, and he has an eloquent way of doing so.
My one complaint is that he says very little about working on Pretty in Pink - but he does include a picture in the plate section. Nov 14, Florinda rated it liked it.
But when they finally began talking about wedding plans, he grew anxious and conflicted. I think the struggle was more about intimacy and boundaries, combined with the concern of the once-divorced person not to end up a twice-divorced person.
I was pretty sympathetic. The book itself seems to reflect some of those intimacy-and-boundaries struggles.
Jan 02, Greg Baerg rated it it was amazing. I didn't know that Andrew McCarthy was a travel writer until a friend read a feature he wrote about an unconventional stay in Paris.
She recommended the book to me and I am grateful. As the title suggests, it is more than a travel book -- indeed, it isn't a travel book, at all.
It is a heartwarming story about a man coming to grips with who he has been and who is becoming, and the journey that got him there and which continues.
At this point of my life, it spoke to me, and I found myself highlig I didn't know that Andrew McCarthy was a travel writer until a friend read a feature he wrote about an unconventional stay in Paris.
At this point of my life, it spoke to me, and I found myself highlighting passages and really wanting to know how his story unfolded, rather than ended.
There is more, of course, that means more to me than probably most, like how he is a divorced man with a young son, figuring out how that dynamic works in a new relationship.
It was hopeful. And as an aside, I read the Kindle edition and was pleasantly surprised that all the photos and there weren't that many, really were at the end.
While they were brief and not "travel" photos in the least, I appreciated being able to use his rather vivid and unique descriptions to visualize each stop, rather than have a photo paint the picture for me.
I am thankful to my friend for the recommendation and can't wait to discuss this book with her, once her journey brings us together again.
Dec 03, Megan rated it did not like it. I was surprised to find out Andrew McCarthy was a travel writer. After reading pages of this book I am shocked he is a travel writer.
I love reading about people traveling to far away places and seeing amazing things. So while the author travels to cool places the way he writes gave it no life for me and I found myself skipping through the pages hoping to get to something interesting.
As for his relationship with D, there was nothing in it to make me root for them. At pages what I know about D through his eyes is: she doesn't like living in NY and complains about it often, she enjoys to socialize and doesn't understand why he doesn't causing a point of constant friction, and he has given up trying to understand her train of thought when she sees signs in things because it is not rational.
The relationship was so volatile that his son from a previous marriage didn't want to visit. Seriously, everytime he spoke of D, I felt like he was rolling his eyes at her.
Oct 03, Larry H rated it really liked it. I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I was first drawn to Andrew McCarthy's new book because he starred in two of my favorite 80s movies, St.
Elmo's Fire and Pretty in Pink. The truth is, however, about a year or so ago I read an article he wrote on Ireland for Bon Appetit magazine, and I remembered being impressed with his writing ability.
While I may have come to McCarthy's book partially because of my nostalgia for most 80s-related things, it was his writing ability, and his insights into the I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I was first drawn to Andrew McCarthy's new book because he starred in two of my favorite 80s movies, St.
While I may have come to McCarthy's book partially because of my nostalgia for most 80s-related things, it was his writing ability, and his insights into the appeal of travel and why he is more comfortable being alone—even while surrounded by strangers—that made me keep reading.
But don't be taken in by the quote from Elizabeth Gilbert on the book's cover—while McCarthy meditates on love and relationships, and does eat throughout the book, this is no male version of Eat, Pray, Love.
He recounts always being a somewhat ambivalent person; while he initially fell in love with acting in high school and felt truly alive onstage, he never really imagined himself a successful actor, and once his career started taking off, he found himself at odds with this success.
It's interesting to find out the characteristics that most intrigued me about McCarthy's acting—his ambivalence, his vulnerability, his shyness—were actually real-life personality traits, not dimensions of his characters.
At one point he recounts that he saw acting as a terrific way to meet women, travel, and drink to excess. At a crossroads in his life, and at risk of jeopardizing his future by alienating the woman he loves, he sets out to try and find the answer to what causes his fear of commitment, of showing his true self to people.
He begins traveling to places both exotic and remote—the glaciers of Patagonia, the rainforests of Costa Rica, the heart of Amazonian country, Mt.
Kilimanjaro, even one of his best friend's childhood hometown of Baltimore, Maryland. This book is part travelogue, as he shares risky adventures, breathtaking sights, and encounters both enriching and bizarre with the people he meets along his journey, and part memoir of self-discovery.
McCarthy says, "In life there are dividing lines. These moments become a way to chart our time; they are the signposts for our lives. Andrew McCarthy is a writer with great talent, one who truly made the anecdotes of his travels come alive, and his use of imagery really evoked pictures in my mind.
But at times, McCarthy's ambivalence, his reticence to disclose his feelings, even to the woman he loves, was a little frustrating. You almost want to shake him from time to time, to warn him he needs to find his answers quickly or his whole life could fall apart.
That melodrama aside, this is an insightful, enjoyable book that makes you see travel, and why people do it, in a very different way. Jan 13, Heather rated it it was ok Shelves: This is a pretty self-indulgent and repetitive look at McCarthy's journey to finally marrying the mother of one of his children.
While there's a good concept here--him running away in search of something and finding that he has what he needs and wants at home--he never actually digs deep enough to make the reader care.
He repeats over and over and over how he craves solitude, how he has always felt apart from people, how he is embarrassed by his own and other people's shame.
But rather than en This is a pretty self-indulgent and repetitive look at McCarthy's journey to finally marrying the mother of one of his children.
Each insight is kind of half-formed, which makes me think he didn't really learn anything, just got lucky in finding the right people to indulge him.
More like 3. There are travel sections that make me want to visit the place the next day. There are deep insightful sections that make me want to write down each word of wisdom to read everyday.
There are pages about family that make me want to put the book down and go hug my wife and kids. There are sections that bored the heck out of me.
However, the others far outweigh the More like 3. However, the others far outweigh the slow parts. McCarthy, as an author, is a great surprise.
I recommend it anyone who likes to travel but has frequently asked the question why. The book is really an introspective look at his withdrawal from life and the use of travel as a means to try to understand himself and deal with his problems.
I think my greatest frustration was the description of his second wedding. Weeks before his Irish wedding, he takes off on travel assignments to Patagonia and the Amazon, arriving just days before leaving for Ireland.
Planning is clearly not one of his strengths, preferring a seat-of-the-pants approach to life and travel. To be fair, the craziness of planning deficiencies was shared equally by both he and his wife!
Aug 19, Anna Janelle rated it really liked it Shelves: first-reads , advanced-reader-copy. My previous status updates seem to encompass many of the gut-reactions that I've had to this book.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover how well Andrew McCarthy can spin a tale. He's a wonderfully gifted writer who possesses the ability to really draw the reader in to reassess and re-evaluate what it means to become an adult member of a committed relationship.
While McCarthy was primarily known as an celebrated "Brat Pack" actor in the s, he is now a celebrated travel author, acting as edi My previous status updates seem to encompass many of the gut-reactions that I've had to this book.
While McCarthy was primarily known as an celebrated "Brat Pack" actor in the s, he is now a celebrated travel author, acting as editor-at-large for the National Geographic Traveler.
While this book was advertised as a travel memoir, it became, for me, most importantly, a memoir discussing McCarthy's fears and inhibitions regarding his second marriage.
I found myself most emotionally connected to his memories centering around his unresolved issues with his family - in particular, his father.
I found McCarthy to be most profound and moving when illustrating his family dynamic - as opposed to discussing the exotic scenery of an exotic locale.
The travel narrative serves a purpose in that it prompts McCarthy's inner dialogue and self-revelation. As a reader new to the travel genre, this was a perfect manner in which to get my feet wet while combining the narrative with memoir or autobiography, a genre which I am most familiar.
It's a very personal encounter with issues and questions that plague us all as we transition from youth into adulthood.
As a person currently struggling to plan a wedding like McCarthy and his betrothed D. It was a quick, relatively short read that I thoroughly enjoyed.
Who would have thought this cutie would have grown up to be a man with such insight into affection and self-knowledge? Respectfully, I was very surprised at the quality and emotional-impact of his insight.
A very welcome surprise indeed Oct 31, Gatamadrizgmail. He has been with D for seven years, they have a daughter and everything should be fine, right?
But the minute they decide to get married he is off and running. Painfully shy and a bit socially inept, he is honest that he uses travel to avoid getting to know people.
But travel also gives him the opportunity to take a real look at himself. So this book balances between an intimate look at where this man is at, and a tautly written, imaginative travelogue.
He travels to Argentina and walks the glaciers, to Costa Rica, boats down the Amazon and eventually climbs Mt. But the reader gets it. You really feel for him, for his incredibly patient wife.
You laugh at the foibles of travel, and especially traveling with kids. The descriptions of the places are spectacular - I found myself googling images of Calafate in Argentina, for example and immediately wanted to go there.
Memories of his living in Vienna and Dublin, his times as the Movie Star are woven into his journeys. McCarthy is an award-winning travel writer, and it shows in the imagery.
When he finally comes to the realization that he does not need this crutch anymore, that he wants to be back in New York with his wife and children, he is on top of Mt.
Kilimanjaro you want to cheer. The final scene of him dancing wildly at his wedding, free of his self-doubts, enjoying himself with people for the first time in his life is moving and wonderful.
I cannot say enough about this book. Andrew McCarthy has transformed himself from Brat Pack actor to travel writer. His work has received some high honors.
I was aware of his work in National Geographic Traveller, so I picked up this book. And I was disappointed. He writes more of his own neurotic journey to adulthood and commitment than he does of actual travel.
In this book, he travels to escape his responsibilities and his ennui. And he travels to boring rat-trap towns. I had no desire to visit Patagonia or Costa Rica when he was finished.
His descriptive writing is bland. And the book ends in Dublin, a place fraught with meaning for him, with his wedding, and I have no sense of place there, either.
Likewise with his journey to the Amazon. His writing about a family trip to Vienna was much more vivid, which is ironic, since McCarthy constantly extols the virtues of traveling alone and how much he prefers it.
In the end, this book is about travel in the mind and heart and is more autobiography than travel writing. One final though McCarthy comes off as crabby as Paul Theroux does in his new book.
This is the ultimate irony as McCarthy greatly admires Theroux's work. Problem is that I'm not sure McCarthy has traveled enough or experienced enough to emulate that part of Theroux's writing!
Nov 15, Terric rated it it was ok. I read this because it was my book club's selection. I enjoyed the travel pieces.
The "Do I want to marry the woman I've been living with - and have a daughter by? I wanted to slap some sense into this self-indulgent idiot.
What difference does a marriage license make when you have a kid and have been together that long? What will change if you make it legal? Yet, he drags his feet and runs off to Patagonia, the Amazon and other exotic locales while trying to convi I read this because it was my book club's selection.
Yet, he drags his feet and runs off to Patagonia, the Amazon and other exotic locales while trying to convince himself to commit. Once he finally decides he CAN get married, nothing will stand in his way, including his son's broken arm.
Dec 03, Beth Schneider rated it it was amazing. I had seen his byline in several Nat'l Geographic articles, but had never put it together with the Andrew McCarthy of '80s movie fame.
I'm just going to say that his writing skills completely overtake his acting skills. He explores a strained bond with his father, and how this complex dynamic shapes his own identity as a parent.
Andrew charts his journey from ambivalence to confidence, from infidelity and recklessness to acceptance and a deeper understanding of the internal conflicts of his life.
A gifted writer with an unsparing eye, Andrew relishes bizarre encounters with the characters whom he encounters, allowing them to challenge him in unexpected ways.
He gets into peculiar, even dangerous situations that put him to the test—with mixed results. Disarmingly likable, Andrew is open, honest, and authentic on every page, and what emerges is an intimate memoir of self-discovery and an unforgettable love song to the woman who would be his wife.
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Just Fly Away. Andrew McCarthy. Only 1 left in stock - order soon. Andrew C. Travels with Charley in Search of America.
John Steinbeck. Rolf Potts. Only 2 left in stock - order soon. Kate Harris. Register a free business account. An editor at large for National Geographic Traveler and winner of several awards including Travel Journalist of the Year , he contributes travel articles to numerous publications, and his work has appeared in the anthology The Best American Travel Writing.
This is not some memoir written by an actor who fancies himself a world traveler. McCarthy achieves this with charm and credibility.
How does a traveler settle down? How do we merge into families without losing ourselves? The answer seems to be that all these things are impossible There is much to be learned, and much to be admired, in this elegant, thoughtful story.
Bound to be popular, this compelling and honest chronicle will not disappoint readers. A smart, valuable book.
Alcoholism, infidelity, the dark side of celebrity—McCarthy holds nothing back. This is the story of a son, a father, a brother, a husband, a man who finds the courage not only to face himself, but to reveal himself, and, in so doing, illuminates something about what it is to be human, fully alive, and awake.
All rights reserved. Gone were the backyard Wiffle ball games with my brothers that had defined my summer afternoons, as was the small maple tree in the front yard that I nearly succeeded in chopping down with a rubber ax when I was eight; over were the nights lying in bed talking to my older brother Peter across the room in the dark before sleep came.
We had lived atop a small hill, safely in the center of a suburban block, in a three-bedroom colonial with green shutters; now we would live in a long and low house in a swale on a large corner lot a half hour and a world away.
Unwittingly, I had spoken to the temporary quality that our lives were about to take on. My eldest brother had just gone off to college, ending the daily battles with my father—no longer would my dad chase Stephen out the window and across the yard in a rage.
My younger brother, Justin, eight years my junior, was slotted into a new school and tumbled in the wake left by the rest of us.
Instead of feeling more confident after our move into the larger home, my parents grew tense. At the same time, my mother grew more remote due to an illness that we children knew of only vaguely—it was never discussed with us.
In all this space, my family seemed to be coming apart. I was fourteen. There were woods across the road from our new home and I began to spend more and more time, alone, picking through the trees and building dams in the stream.
I was never a diligent student, and as the work piled up, my interest faded. Noticing my rudderless unease, my mother suggested I try out for the school musical, Oliver.
Reluctantly, I went along. When it came to the final audition for the role of the Artful Dodger, I surprised myself with how much I wanted the part.
Pitted against another student who, it was made very clear, had a better singing voice and was more desired for the production, I threw myself into my performance in a way that left them no option but to reward me with the role.
I felt the power and belonging I had been searching for, without knowing that I had been searching at all. I knew my experience onstage was a profound one because I told no one of its effect on me.
A few years later, when the time came to apply to college, with few options because of my poor grades, I quietly took the train to Hoboken, then the PATH under the Hudson River, and went to a building off Washington Square in Greenwich Village.
On the second floor of a windowless room I spoke a few paragraphs of a play I had read only a portion of, in front of a petite man with an effete manner who wore a bow tie and a waxed mustache.
He wanted to know why my grades were so bad and why I wanted to come to acting school. He asked if I had another monologue I could perform for him.
I could do some of the lines from the Artful Dodger, I said. When I was finished he looked at me for a long while. This was the same man who then drove me into the city and knocked on door after door until we found an apartment for me to live in just off Washington Square Park when the university refused me housing.
I bowed the air fiddle and he lowered the windows and the wind ripped through the car as we sang at the top of our lungs with our hearts wide open to each other.
As I packed my bags to leave home, my mother offered me a painting that I had always admired—a large canvas with the profile of a hawk, its golden eye staring boldly out at the viewer.
When my father saw it leaning against the wall by the door, instead of on the living room wall, he grew enraged. I knew, even in the midst of the shouting, that this had nothing to do with a painting and everything to do with a mother losing her son in whom she had been overinvested, and a father who had resented their closeness.
A few months after I had settled in my apartment, my father made one of his many unscheduled visits, carrying the painting. He presented it as if it were a new idea to offer it to me.
I tried to refuse but it was no use. When he left, I put the painting in the back of a closet, and when I moved from that apartment, I gave it away.
He rarely acknowledged me when I saw him at school, and he left shortly after I arrived. I never saw him again. I have been grateful to him for my entire life, but I could only keep half my word.
A few months later another transient angel swept across my path. I got on the number 1 train and went to the Upper West Side.
I sat on the floor of a hallway in the Ansonia Hotel on Seventy-third Street and waited for three hours with several hundred other eighteen-year-old, vulnerable and sensitive hopefuls.
I had acted in exactly one professional play, for one weekend. The play was listed there, alone on the white page.
She looked up, glanced at me briefly, and nodded. I went to the office the next day and was handed a scene from what I assumed was a movie script.
I read it with the same man, whose name I learned was David, and went away. The following week I was summoned to meet the director of the film, Lewis Carlino, in his suite at a midtown hotel.
He was a gentle, soft-spoken man with a trim gray beard. We chatted for a while, and then I left. As I waited by the elevator, David came out and asked me back to the office again the following day.
We read the same scene I had before. This time, Lewis was also present and they were recording me on videotape. Worse, my eyes unwittingly opened wide, apparently giving me a look of frozen terror.
I left, disheartened, knowing that I had lost any chance for the part. I was brought to Chicago to meet and screen-test with other actors, and finally I was flown out to Los Angeles to meet with Jacqueline Bisset—the role I was to play was that of her young lover and she needed to approve the choice.
Marty picked me up in his Jaguar. He spoke with a thick Russian accent. I entered the Spanish-style bungalow and slouched on the couch in the sunken living room.
Marty parked himself in a plush chair nearby. We sat in silence. He never took his eyes off me. Then I heard a distant toilet flush, and I started to laugh.
Jackie entered the room and sat on the ottoman across from me. She was gracious, interested, and extremely beautiful.
The film, called Class, was shot in Chicago. I lived in a hotel off Michigan Avenue for the duration of the shoot. I was nineteen. Alone, far from everyone I knew, with work to do, I felt insulated and safe.
When the film ended, I returned to New York. My life finally had direction, and I followed it unequivocally. At twenty-one I landed a part in a movie called Catholic Boys someone later changed it to Heaven Help Us , and the success that happened next happened fast.
That I was unprepared, or ill-equipped, to best capitalize on my good fortune is something best decided in hindsight. My life was rushing forward; I was not interested in stopping it.
I was comfortable in my own company and convinced I knew my own mind. Work led to more work and more travel.
I traveled to Paris and then London, to Italy and Brazil. Because of my natural inclination toward solitude I drifted away from the others after the workday ended and wandered the cities alone.
I began to find comfort in the transience and invisibility of being a stranger in a strange place. Unnoticed and anonymous, I was relieved and excited as I discovered a world very different from the suburban New Jersey neighborhood of my childhood.
Success was something I craved—and yet it intimidated me. These mixed feelings were not new; ambivalence had already begun to assert itself in my life and had become hugely important in the most successful role of my early film work.
I was an unlikely choice for the lead male role in Pretty in Pink—a now-iconic coming-of-age love story. At the time of filming, it seemed to me like a silly movie about a girl wanting to go to a dance.
In St. In that instance, because I was so actively living out my personal vacillations on-screen, I felt free—for the only time in my young life—to move fully toward a success I had decided I wanted.
Only when the outlet of acting in that role was finished did my doubts and reservations return—and by then success was on its way.
Those films carried such weight with their intended audience because they gave credence to and took seriously the struggles of being young.
Struggles I too was wrestling with at the time, and that I chose to ease through drinking. What began as a curiosity became a companion, then an emboldening habit, and finally an invisible albatross.
Alcohol became my master with impunity. While still in my mid-twenties, I wrapped up work on a film in Berlin and returned to my hotel room alone with a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey.
I toasted myself in the mirror for a job well done and then awoke in a different room. I had no recollection of changing rooms.
Confused and still groggy, I rolled over in bed and called the front desk. What time is it? Sounding as reasonable as I could, I continued.
I paused. I had always wanted to visit Amsterdam. That I never paused to consider how I had traveled from Berlin to Amsterdam without recollection goes a long way to explaining the depth of the grip alcohol had on me at the time.
I showered and ran off to the red-light district to look at the prostitutes in the windows. I met a man in the shadows who offered me cocaine.
When I gave him fifty Dutch guilders for two small bags, he handed me only one and ran off. I chased after him, over canal bridges and down dark lanes, shouting.
Eventually he stopped and turned and threw the second bag at me. In a dark corner, I sniffed the powder, which burned my nose and did nothing to alter my mood, and then found a bar filled with dripping candles stuffed into wine bottles, where I settled in for the night.
At twenty-nine, I was played out. I traveled to Minnesota to get much-needed help with a drinking problem that had grown out of control.
A few years, and a lifetime, later, I was in a bookstore, gazing at a girl across the display table. She had sandy hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and wore a tight blue-and-white striped shirt—the kind the girls wore in French New Wave films.
She had my full attention. Eventually feeling eyes upon her, the young woman looked up and caught me staring. I panicked and grabbed the first book on the table in front of me.
Still flustered, I bought the book without thinking. Once out on the street, I recovered enough to take a look and see what I had just purchased.
Off the Road, the title said. I go for walks. I play with the cat. I watch tv shows and movies. All entries are on there, starting with the first post I ever made.
It is split into daily tracks and shows some landmarks and some photographs. Or you could just go and read one of my books.
By loading the video, you agree to YouTube's privacy policy. Learn more. Load video. Always unblock YouTube. Meanwhile, I have returned to The Longest Way.
Here's a little animated video about the way so far:. YouTube - I post videos from the road whenever I can Twitter - Have been using this one a lot lately Facebook - I mean I have one, but meh Instagram - Trying to post daily blog updates here.
July 24th, okay okay Finding adoptive families for Coco and Toto has been difficult. June 16th, my first friend Huihui and the Sea I met Huihui on the fourth day of my walk, about eighty kilometers from Beijing.
June 8th, Bye Bobona Today Bobo was extra nice. May 21st, stranded in Georgia during Covid19 Funny how I have randomly ended up in a country that seems to be handling Covid19 pretty well, at least so far.
May 16th, wanna be a slave? April 10th, The Three Musketeers These were strange times.
He gets into peculiar, even dangerous situations that put him to the test—with mixed results. Clear your history. What I found is that Andrew is an exceptional storyteller. Andrew charts his journey from ambivalence to confidence, from infidelity and recklessness to acceptance and a deeper Dominique Dunne of the internal conflicts of Lets Dance Finale life. Istanbul Airport [70]. So this book balances between an intimate look at where this man is at, and a tautly written, imaginative travelogue. Marty picked me up Now And Then his Jaguar. Register Manousakis Michael free business account.
Which I knew while he was still on his first exotic trip. But I waded through to the end, even though the deadline for book club came and went no one finished this book in our club, btw.
Couple of reasons. First is the train wreck factor. I like having something to respond to. Not in this book anyway -- his narrative flows well for the most part.
Third, as I pressed on, I did start thinking about how my own unedited writing might come across to others. I'm a lot more calm than McCarthy and not nearly as snobby or prone to rage, but I don't have perfect thoughts all the time.
And some things that should be "easy" can be scary. So in that sense, he's relatable for me. I applaud that he put himself out there.
But I don't want to spend time with him. So would I recommend this? Not really. He is not likable in this context and his stories tell the same thing over and over again.
About him as an individual. I think this book would have been much better of he focused his writing on the destinations and what he saw, learned, and did to share the exotic locale with the reader.
His own mental exercises and struggles would have added to the stories. Instead, his focus on himself sucked the life out of what he had to say.
Jun 18, Robin rated it really liked it Shelves: narrative-nonfiction , memoir-autobio-bio , road-trip-books. It would be easy to dismiss this as a self-indulgent travel memoir by a former "brat-packer" actor became an award winning travel writer, but this was surprisingly well done.
I found the travels interesting and his musings of his fear of commitment to be honest there is much angst about getting hitched again and being a better husband than he was to his first wife.
Oct 16, Marc Weitz rated it really liked it. But, man, this guy can write. Indeed, Hemingway is mentioned a number of times in the book.
He recounts years of acting, failed relationships, and alcohol abuse. In this he realized the emptiness of it all. He is a loner who desperately wants to be social and build lasting relationships, but while he yearns for this, he runs from it whenever he gets close.
It was one day hiking the Camino de Santiago in Spain that he realized the importance of travel in his life. From then on he sets himself on a career as a travel writer.
He approaches one of the editors from National Geographic seeking a job. Skeptical at first, he gave McCarthy a chance.
His logical side knows that D is the right woman for him, but his fears are preventing him from taking the leap and marrying her. With each destination described in the book, he grows more comfortable and surer of his decision.
Now as an adult I continue to learn from his art and now him personally. Jan 06, Sara rated it liked it. Like most 80s fans, I've always had a particular soft spot for Andrew McCarthy.
He's been fairly absent from the screen in recent years and I was pleasantly surprised to find he'd become something of a travel writer in the interim.
Travel writing with a side of self-discovery isn't my favourite kind of writing but I was intrigued by this book.
Furthermore one of my colleagues told me that he'd worked with McCarthy on this in a publicity capacity and that McCarthy was pretty much exactly as he Like most 80s fans, I've always had a particular soft spot for Andrew McCarthy.
Furthermore one of my colleagues told me that he'd worked with McCarthy on this in a publicity capacity and that McCarthy was pretty much exactly as he seemed in his most iconic roles Pretty in Pink, Class, St Elmo's Fire, I'm assuming not Weekend at Bernies , if not more so - in other words, he WAS still waters run deep.
So I treated myself for Christmas. The book itself is an easy, enjoyable read, weaving exotic destinations like Patagonia and Kilimanjaro with McCarthy's concerns about getting married for the second time and reflections on family life.
It didn't change my life or anything but I enjoyed the feeling of getting to know McCarthy better - he really opens up, and he has an eloquent way of doing so.
My one complaint is that he says very little about working on Pretty in Pink - but he does include a picture in the plate section. Nov 14, Florinda rated it liked it.
But when they finally began talking about wedding plans, he grew anxious and conflicted. I think the struggle was more about intimacy and boundaries, combined with the concern of the once-divorced person not to end up a twice-divorced person.
I was pretty sympathetic. The book itself seems to reflect some of those intimacy-and-boundaries struggles.
Jan 02, Greg Baerg rated it it was amazing. I didn't know that Andrew McCarthy was a travel writer until a friend read a feature he wrote about an unconventional stay in Paris.
She recommended the book to me and I am grateful. As the title suggests, it is more than a travel book -- indeed, it isn't a travel book, at all. It is a heartwarming story about a man coming to grips with who he has been and who is becoming, and the journey that got him there and which continues.
At this point of my life, it spoke to me, and I found myself highlig I didn't know that Andrew McCarthy was a travel writer until a friend read a feature he wrote about an unconventional stay in Paris.
At this point of my life, it spoke to me, and I found myself highlighting passages and really wanting to know how his story unfolded, rather than ended.
There is more, of course, that means more to me than probably most, like how he is a divorced man with a young son, figuring out how that dynamic works in a new relationship.
It was hopeful. And as an aside, I read the Kindle edition and was pleasantly surprised that all the photos and there weren't that many, really were at the end.
While they were brief and not "travel" photos in the least, I appreciated being able to use his rather vivid and unique descriptions to visualize each stop, rather than have a photo paint the picture for me.
I am thankful to my friend for the recommendation and can't wait to discuss this book with her, once her journey brings us together again. Dec 03, Megan rated it did not like it.
I was surprised to find out Andrew McCarthy was a travel writer. After reading pages of this book I am shocked he is a travel writer. I love reading about people traveling to far away places and seeing amazing things.
So while the author travels to cool places the way he writes gave it no life for me and I found myself skipping through the pages hoping to get to something interesting.
As for his relationship with D, there was nothing in it to make me root for them. At pages what I know about D through his eyes is: she doesn't like living in NY and complains about it often, she enjoys to socialize and doesn't understand why he doesn't causing a point of constant friction, and he has given up trying to understand her train of thought when she sees signs in things because it is not rational.
The relationship was so volatile that his son from a previous marriage didn't want to visit. Seriously, everytime he spoke of D, I felt like he was rolling his eyes at her.
Oct 03, Larry H rated it really liked it. I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I was first drawn to Andrew McCarthy's new book because he starred in two of my favorite 80s movies, St.
Elmo's Fire and Pretty in Pink. The truth is, however, about a year or so ago I read an article he wrote on Ireland for Bon Appetit magazine, and I remembered being impressed with his writing ability.
While I may have come to McCarthy's book partially because of my nostalgia for most 80s-related things, it was his writing ability, and his insights into the I'm not at all ashamed to admit that I was first drawn to Andrew McCarthy's new book because he starred in two of my favorite 80s movies, St.
While I may have come to McCarthy's book partially because of my nostalgia for most 80s-related things, it was his writing ability, and his insights into the appeal of travel and why he is more comfortable being alone—even while surrounded by strangers—that made me keep reading.
But don't be taken in by the quote from Elizabeth Gilbert on the book's cover—while McCarthy meditates on love and relationships, and does eat throughout the book, this is no male version of Eat, Pray, Love.
He recounts always being a somewhat ambivalent person; while he initially fell in love with acting in high school and felt truly alive onstage, he never really imagined himself a successful actor, and once his career started taking off, he found himself at odds with this success.
It's interesting to find out the characteristics that most intrigued me about McCarthy's acting—his ambivalence, his vulnerability, his shyness—were actually real-life personality traits, not dimensions of his characters.
At one point he recounts that he saw acting as a terrific way to meet women, travel, and drink to excess. At a crossroads in his life, and at risk of jeopardizing his future by alienating the woman he loves, he sets out to try and find the answer to what causes his fear of commitment, of showing his true self to people.
He begins traveling to places both exotic and remote—the glaciers of Patagonia, the rainforests of Costa Rica, the heart of Amazonian country, Mt. Kilimanjaro, even one of his best friend's childhood hometown of Baltimore, Maryland.
This book is part travelogue, as he shares risky adventures, breathtaking sights, and encounters both enriching and bizarre with the people he meets along his journey, and part memoir of self-discovery.
McCarthy says, "In life there are dividing lines. These moments become a way to chart our time; they are the signposts for our lives.
Andrew McCarthy is a writer with great talent, one who truly made the anecdotes of his travels come alive, and his use of imagery really evoked pictures in my mind.
But at times, McCarthy's ambivalence, his reticence to disclose his feelings, even to the woman he loves, was a little frustrating. You almost want to shake him from time to time, to warn him he needs to find his answers quickly or his whole life could fall apart.
That melodrama aside, this is an insightful, enjoyable book that makes you see travel, and why people do it, in a very different way. Jan 13, Heather rated it it was ok Shelves: This is a pretty self-indulgent and repetitive look at McCarthy's journey to finally marrying the mother of one of his children.
While there's a good concept here--him running away in search of something and finding that he has what he needs and wants at home--he never actually digs deep enough to make the reader care.
He repeats over and over and over how he craves solitude, how he has always felt apart from people, how he is embarrassed by his own and other people's shame.
But rather than en This is a pretty self-indulgent and repetitive look at McCarthy's journey to finally marrying the mother of one of his children.
Each insight is kind of half-formed, which makes me think he didn't really learn anything, just got lucky in finding the right people to indulge him.
More like 3. There are travel sections that make me want to visit the place the next day. There are deep insightful sections that make me want to write down each word of wisdom to read everyday.
There are pages about family that make me want to put the book down and go hug my wife and kids. There are sections that bored the heck out of me.
However, the others far outweigh the More like 3. However, the others far outweigh the slow parts. McCarthy, as an author, is a great surprise.
I recommend it anyone who likes to travel but has frequently asked the question why. The book is really an introspective look at his withdrawal from life and the use of travel as a means to try to understand himself and deal with his problems.
I think my greatest frustration was the description of his second wedding. Weeks before his Irish wedding, he takes off on travel assignments to Patagonia and the Amazon, arriving just days before leaving for Ireland.
Planning is clearly not one of his strengths, preferring a seat-of-the-pants approach to life and travel. To be fair, the craziness of planning deficiencies was shared equally by both he and his wife!
Aug 19, Anna Janelle rated it really liked it Shelves: first-reads , advanced-reader-copy. My previous status updates seem to encompass many of the gut-reactions that I've had to this book.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover how well Andrew McCarthy can spin a tale. He's a wonderfully gifted writer who possesses the ability to really draw the reader in to reassess and re-evaluate what it means to become an adult member of a committed relationship.
While McCarthy was primarily known as an celebrated "Brat Pack" actor in the s, he is now a celebrated travel author, acting as edi My previous status updates seem to encompass many of the gut-reactions that I've had to this book.
While McCarthy was primarily known as an celebrated "Brat Pack" actor in the s, he is now a celebrated travel author, acting as editor-at-large for the National Geographic Traveler.
While this book was advertised as a travel memoir, it became, for me, most importantly, a memoir discussing McCarthy's fears and inhibitions regarding his second marriage.
I found myself most emotionally connected to his memories centering around his unresolved issues with his family - in particular, his father.
I found McCarthy to be most profound and moving when illustrating his family dynamic - as opposed to discussing the exotic scenery of an exotic locale.
The travel narrative serves a purpose in that it prompts McCarthy's inner dialogue and self-revelation.
As a reader new to the travel genre, this was a perfect manner in which to get my feet wet while combining the narrative with memoir or autobiography, a genre which I am most familiar.
It's a very personal encounter with issues and questions that plague us all as we transition from youth into adulthood.
As a person currently struggling to plan a wedding like McCarthy and his betrothed D. It was a quick, relatively short read that I thoroughly enjoyed.
Who would have thought this cutie would have grown up to be a man with such insight into affection and self-knowledge? Respectfully, I was very surprised at the quality and emotional-impact of his insight.
A very welcome surprise indeed Oct 31, Gatamadrizgmail. He has been with D for seven years, they have a daughter and everything should be fine, right?
But the minute they decide to get married he is off and running. Painfully shy and a bit socially inept, he is honest that he uses travel to avoid getting to know people.
But travel also gives him the opportunity to take a real look at himself. So this book balances between an intimate look at where this man is at, and a tautly written, imaginative travelogue.
He travels to Argentina and walks the glaciers, to Costa Rica, boats down the Amazon and eventually climbs Mt.
But the reader gets it. You really feel for him, for his incredibly patient wife. You laugh at the foibles of travel, and especially traveling with kids.
The descriptions of the places are spectacular - I found myself googling images of Calafate in Argentina, for example and immediately wanted to go there.
Memories of his living in Vienna and Dublin, his times as the Movie Star are woven into his journeys. McCarthy is an award-winning travel writer, and it shows in the imagery.
When he finally comes to the realization that he does not need this crutch anymore, that he wants to be back in New York with his wife and children, he is on top of Mt.
Kilimanjaro you want to cheer. The final scene of him dancing wildly at his wedding, free of his self-doubts, enjoying himself with people for the first time in his life is moving and wonderful.
I cannot say enough about this book. Andrew McCarthy has transformed himself from Brat Pack actor to travel writer.
His work has received some high honors. I was aware of his work in National Geographic Traveller, so I picked up this book. And I was disappointed.
He writes more of his own neurotic journey to adulthood and commitment than he does of actual travel. In this book, he travels to escape his responsibilities and his ennui.
And he travels to boring rat-trap towns. I had no desire to visit Patagonia or Costa Rica when he was finished.
His descriptive writing is bland. And the book ends in Dublin, a place fraught with meaning for him, with his wedding, and I have no sense of place there, either.
Likewise with his journey to the Amazon. His writing about a family trip to Vienna was much more vivid, which is ironic, since McCarthy constantly extols the virtues of traveling alone and how much he prefers it.
In the end, this book is about travel in the mind and heart and is more autobiography than travel writing. One final though McCarthy comes off as crabby as Paul Theroux does in his new book.
This is the ultimate irony as McCarthy greatly admires Theroux's work. Problem is that I'm not sure McCarthy has traveled enough or experienced enough to emulate that part of Theroux's writing!
Nov 15, Terric rated it it was ok. I read this because it was my book club's selection. I enjoyed the travel pieces.
The "Do I want to marry the woman I've been living with - and have a daughter by? I wanted to slap some sense into this self-indulgent idiot.
What difference does a marriage license make when you have a kid and have been together that long? What will change if you make it legal?
Yet, he drags his feet and runs off to Patagonia, the Amazon and other exotic locales while trying to convi I read this because it was my book club's selection.
Yet, he drags his feet and runs off to Patagonia, the Amazon and other exotic locales while trying to convince himself to commit. Once he finally decides he CAN get married, nothing will stand in his way, including his son's broken arm.
Dec 03, Beth Schneider rated it it was amazing. I had seen his byline in several Nat'l Geographic articles, but had never put it together with the Andrew McCarthy of '80s movie fame.
I'm just going to say that his writing skills completely overtake his acting skills. The way that he wove his personal story in with the landscape and people of the various locations he visited was thoroughly entertaining.
I'd highly recommend this book! Aug 08, Ti rated it liked it Shelves: books-sent-to-me , galleys-completed-edelweiss. He has an easy way about him and a likable face.
Needless to say, when this book came up for review, I jumped at the chance to read it. So, that is what he does.
He climbs Kilimanjaro, spends some time in Costa Rica, Patagonia and Spain and all the while, D is waiting at home, touching base with him when she can.
As much as I adore McCarthy, I was frustrated with his tendency to flee every time decisions needed to be made.
As a Brat Pack fan, my favorite parts of the book had to do with his movie career and how he came to play such iconic roles. These parts are interspersed throughout the book and then of course he touches on alcoholism and how it nearly got the best of him.
Even here though, he only skims the surface. He only took things so far, and then just sort of gave in to them. BUT, for some reason, I still enjoyed the book.
It was refreshing for a man to discuss his weakness and I appreciated the honesty in his writing. For more reviews, visit my blog: Book Chatter.
View all 7 comments. Oct 25, Vera Marie rated it really liked it Shelves: travel-memoir. This travel memoir surprised me.
His biggest problem is marrying a woman he loves—the mother of his children—the woman whom he has been living with for seven years.
Once he gets to Patagonia and describes incidents and people—-I started to find the book enjoyable.
Here is an excerpt from a really wonderful paragraph describing a ride across an Argentine lake and his feelings about it: The metamorphic rock glistens.
The boat passes a small blue iceberg—an orphan from the Upsala Glacier. I love the way he reveals his awe and vulnerability instead of presenting a cool, sophisticated demeanor.
Although he has not convinced me to love the soul-searching branch of travel memoir in general, and I could have done with less of existential angst and more of the travel stories, The Longest Way Home is well worth the read.
This is taken from a review I wrote at A Travler's Library. Read more. Mar 13, Sue Weiss rated it it was amazing.
I tilted my head back and began to sing. I had no recollection of ever singing it before and yet I knew all the words and sang without restraint. Beside a barn in the middle of Spain, I had the same elation of being at home in myself as I had with the Artful Dodger and in that hotel room in Chicago, only this time I needed no work to hide behind.
I was in my own skin and on my own terms. The next two weeks went by in a blaze. Every step took me deeper into the landscape of my own being.
I was in sync with the universe. I arrived at my chosen destination just before a downpour. I slept in and missed the pack of wild dogs that terrorized the early walkers.
I met people I found fascinating. Where had they been hiding? I grew physically stronger each day, and by the time I strode into Santiago in late July I felt the way I always wanted to feel yet somehow never quite did.
I needed no validation, no outside approval—I was myself, fully alive and satisfied in simply being. I returned home changed by my experience.
The acute euphoria of my trip faded, but my sense of self lingered and went deep. I returned to Europe, to the cities I had been to before, rewriting my drunken travel history and giving myself clear-eyed recollections.
I began to take longer trips, to Southeast Asia and then Africa. Always alone. Often I arrived with no plan, no place to stay, knowing no one.
I wanted to see how I would manage, if I could take care of myself, and inevitably found myself walking through fear and coming home the better for it.
Success in acting had given me a persona and a shell of confidence; my travels helped me find myself beneath that persona and fill out that shell with belief.
Through travel, I began to grow up. I used to try to explain and justify my travels. It was pointless. Reasons for not traveling are as varied and complex as the justification for any behavior.
The motivation is to go—to meet life, and myself, head-on along the road. Often, the farther afield I go, the more at home I feel.
At some point in my travels I began to jot down notes. I had tried to keep a journal, but I found my reminiscences indulgent and silly.
I found no joy in writing them and was embarrassed rereading them. One day I wrote a scene of an encounter that I had with a young man who offered me a ride on his moped in Saigon.
The scene captured the essence of my trip. Then a woman I saw behaving rudely in Laos shed light on my experience of that silent city. I wrote it all down.
But the idea grew. I knew someone who knew someone, and I met a man named Keith Bellows, the editor of National Geographic Traveler magazine.
Keith is a barrel-chested lion of a man with a mane of silver hair—exactly the kind of man who had intimidated me in my youth.
He agreed to meet me over drinks in an East Village bar, where I told him of my desire to write about travel for his magazine.
He looked at me funny. It took another year of cajoling, via e-mail, on the phone, and over dinners, during which we became friends.
I had no way of knowing where it might lead; all I knew was that it made sense to me. What place speaks to you? It was on that trip to Ireland, for my first writing assignment, that I met D for only the second time, and we decided to spend our life together.
Tall and striking, with a confident stride, she approached me as I waited for a taxi to take me to the airport.
I was acutely aware of her fingers wrapping around my own—the strength and presence of her grip galvanized my energy.
I turned back to D, we exchanged first names, and I left. Yet her handshake stayed with me. Would she be able to pass it on? Even in the moment, I was aware how out of character this was for me.
E-mail obtained, I wrote out a tentative query of reconnection while sitting in the business center in a hotel basement in Barcelona, Spain, where I was acting in a film.
Yes, D remembered and had enjoyed our brief meeting as well. She hoped I had a nice time in Ireland and at the festival. Her e-mail matched my tone of cordial formality.
She signed her name at the bottom. Then I scrolled farther down. She e-mailed back. Coffee would be fine.
Yet four platonic and charged days later—with my friend acting as an unintended chaperone—we were still together. I finally put her on the train east and I walked a foggy and windswept beach at Lahinch and knew that my life was about to get complicated.
I was still married to my first wife. But we were drifting. I knew she was frustrated. I felt like I had to leave 20 percent of myself outside just to walk in the door of our marriage.
We had met in college, a youthful love, and had been together, on and off, for years. Twenty years after we met, we married.
It seemed that instead of our marriage being the beginning of our life together, it had been the culmination.
The subsequent birth of our son was its finest moment. We loved each other, but together, we were under a rock.
My meeting D had stirred a feeling that sent my wife and me into therapy, but the marriage was over. She wisely took some time to find a relationship that suited her adult self better than I did, while I rushed headlong into a relationship with D.
That was seven years ago. We came to the decision to finally get married without drama. She was sitting at the dining table, drinking tea.
I was across the room at the desk, going through e-mail. The kids had just gone to bed. I stopped typing and turned toward her.
The smile she gives when she is playful and confident. I had proposed on a moonlit beach in the Caribbean four years earlier—six months after the birth of our daughter—after which we began to make plans that went nowhere.
The plans floundered, then so did our relationship. It took time to acknowledge how off course we were, then time to let it heal, and then here we were again.
This time, when she spoke, I looked at her face for a while. I knew my response would lead us in one direction or the other.
I got out of bed and opened the window and lay back down. It was pointless—I was done sleeping. I got up and brushed my teeth, then looked in on my sleeping children—perfect, both of them, the way children are as they sleep.
I went to the kitchen and made a cup of tea. I splashed cold water on my face in the sink. I wanted all this, I had fought to get it.
I had lost a lot along the way and gained even more. I was where I felt like I should be, but something was wrong. Why was I still filled with so much doubt?
Was all my resistance really just a typical male fear of intimacy? They had been shadowing me my whole life. I was tired of all the ambivalence, tired of being a slave to it.
Yet, staring out the window waiting for the dawn, I found myself reaching for my computer. I began going through story ideas, some new ones, others I had long wanted to do, places I yearned to experience and write about.
Quickly, I reached out to editors, and within the space of a few short days I had assembled a string of assignments, in some of the most exotic places in the world.
When I laid out the half dozen and more stories I planned to write in the time leading up to the wedding, D simply looked at me. Dive into the deep end.
In the middle of a family, somehow I was still going it alone. And my signature ambivalence created unease, not just in myself, but in those around me, in those I loved.
It had to change. I went to cancel my writing assignments—but D stopped me. I went through my first marriage withholding myself—without even understanding that that was the issue—and it had doomed us.
But I have two children whom I want to see grow. I am engaged to a woman I love—with whom I want to share my life. And yet I need to try to give those I love my complete self, without ambivalence, fear, and doubt.
Emotion has been the tangible currency of my life. I have made a living—both in acting and in writing—exploring my feelings, at times dredging them up, bringing them to the surface.
I stand on the precipice of the rest of my life. My constant vacillation has kept me dancing along that edge—I need to step back and stake turf, for D, for my kids, for myself.
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Please try again later. Verified Purchase. I bought this book for two reasons, one very realistic, the other very shallow. Okay, I got that part over with.
As someone who dreams of being a world traveler, discovering all of the beauties of the world and learning all the cultures, being a citizen of the world as Andrew says , I read his travel pieces to hear his take on some of the places I wish to explore someday.
What I found is that Andrew is an exceptional storyteller. He describes the places he's been and things he sees with such colorful details.
As I read some of his articles, I could almost picture myself there, seeing the things that he was describing. When I learned that he had a book coming out, I immediately ordered my copy so that I could read more of his explorations.
You learn immediately from the cover of the book that the focus is not of his travels, but rather what he learns from his travels and the discoveries both self and cultural he makes to lead him to the point of marrying his longtime girlfriend.
As I read the book, I found some of the same descriptive storytelling from his other travel stories, but I also found that Andrew is not the guy you expect him to be from his acting.
He's a guy that prefers to be alone in his explorations and thoughts. I won't give the book away, but I will say that I originally only gave it three stars.
And that's because I read it after having read some reviews here at Amazon. What I took from those was a tone that I used to read the book because many had said that he whined and really just needed to grow up.
While I didn't get that from the book, I did assert a tone that really should not have been there. That said, I still really enjoyed Andrew's story and reading the book.
The following weekend, I went to Atlanta with a friend who is both an avid reader and a world traveler. We attended a book festival event where Andrew was interviewed about his book.
We found him to be the intelligent and witty guy that we expected him to be all along. While he may enjoy traveling alone, he is very good at charming a crowd.
After hearing him discuss his book in person and talk about some of the specific situations that he had written about, I quickly learned that many of the places where I had asserted a bit of sarcastic tone really deserved a humorous tone.
After that, I decided that my rating deserved at least four stars, not the original three that I gave it. I really enjoy Andrew's travel articles, I enjoyed his book, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to hear him speak about his book in person.
All of that together made The Longest Way Home a very enjoyable experience as a whole. And, yes, the guy from Pretty In Pink can write.
More importantly, he can tell a story. Love this on lots of levels. Andrew McCarthy is someone I've been drawn to through his Hallmark movie characters.
I can't say I paid that much attention to many of his movie before; I'm not a big movie or TV watcher. His characters on Hallmark drew me in and I wanted to find out more about this actor and let's face it - he's cute.
When I found he turned to travel writing as a way to find himself I was more intrigued. It's always interesting to read how others process their journeys and travel writing is such a fun, spot on metaphor for exactly what he was and is going through on this journey of self discovery.
His stories are rich in beauty, depth, truth, and most of all growth. McCarthy is willing to be open and vulnerable, His story isn't a cocky self-portrait, but one of humility, sharing, and encouragement for fellow travelers.
It is his story. He is a private person in a very "under the microscope" occupation perhaps that paradox enabled him to expose his very personal side.
As a follower traveler on this journey of life, I love to sit in on the "want to see the slides of our summer vacation" moments.
I love peeking in to see how others cope, push ahead, and continue to love in good times and in not so good times. I bought the audio version of McCarthy's story.
He narrates it, so it is even more personal. It's like he's sitting right there telling me the stories in person. One person found this helpful.
This book struck really close to home for me. I am not sure how many other's who read it can say that, but for me it bore an uncanny similarity to my life with my husband.
I felt as if I found my husband's journal. So many reviewers are so judgemental on their personal choices. I don't think you have to agree with the author in order to take something good away from it.
In Andrew's case, I will be honest and say I do not think his marriage holds much promise. Hope I am wrong.
I would love to read more about his life since the marriage. It was only by sure luck that I continued to page 'forward' after the end of the book.
What a pleasant surprise! See all reviews. Top reviews from other countries. Translate all reviews to English. Not my thing. Expected a travel book of adventure but got something entirely different.
Didn't make it all the way through, not for me sorry. Report abuse. McCarthy is no amazing writer, and is a little pretentious-sounding at times, but it's good for 80s movie fans and people who like travel.
Brilliant story, Please write another Andrew McCarthy. Wow, sombody wrote my book! Andrew you are awesome.
He just described exactly my feelings, hopes and apprehensions that go together with the longing for solitude in travel and the opposing longing for your life-time partner's love and family that only she can give you No matter how far we travel, we may not escape the simple truth that we are social mammals.
A truth so profound that yes, sometimes it needs us to climb mount Kilimanjaro to realize. What remains for each of us to see is whether we can successfully combine our escape-into-travel reflexes with the somewhat cornering life of a family man.
Time will tell and maybe another book will be published In weiten Teilen ist das Buch ein Reisetagebuch, in dem der Autor sehr akribisch notiert, was passiert.
Nebenbei fragt man sich, ob er und seine Braut aneinander vorbeireden, gegenseitig in sich etwas hineinprojizieren, was jeweils gar nicht da ist.
Jedenfalls sehr anstrengend die Lovestory lesend zu verfolgen. Report abuse Translate review to English.
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