I was really excited to start reading this book because the cover intrigued me and I’ve been obsessed with both travel and India lately, so a survey of India’s culture and religion from a travel point of view was right up my alley. Better in theory than in practice, however.

Right from the start, the author sets herself up as a cranky, spoiled narrator and the shtick gets boring fast. At one point near the book she describes herself as “a self-occupied, selfish, pathetic, pessimistic bitch” and at least she’s honest, but I’d rather read travel literature from people who actually appreciated the country they were visiting.

She does have moments of positivism, but her writing style breaks the cardinal rule of “telling, not showing” and so you never really get a feel for the country, just a feel for how much she hates it.

An investigative journalist takes time off to follow her boyfriend when he becomes an Austrailan correspondent in India. What follows is her account of spiritual practices (sects of Hinduism and Islam get most attention, but spirituality and meditation as a whole is also considered) in travel memoir format. Macdonald doesn’t pull any punches about her uneasiness and queasiness at the prospect of staying in India, but she chronicles her brushes with religion and faith with honesty and good humor.

I learned quite a bit from this book about religions and spiritual practices that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise. It’s a good light read, suitable for a plane ride, and moves along quickly enough to keep you interested.

Completely avoidable!

Lacklustre in narration, it is boring from Page 1. Bits and pieces of information that was useful. Nothing more !

I enjoy travelogues written with a good dose of humour and wit, so this should be a great read.

Dumb cover, but interesting book.