The worst account of a bicycle trip ever written about must surely be Bernard Magnouloux's "Travels with Rosinante," a five-year, 199-puncture journey around the world, in which the author struggled more with the language of his account than the traumas of Himalayan passes, muggings in Mexico and military dictatorships.
And the best cycle book? That would be Dervla Murphy's magisterial "Full Tilt: Dunkirk to Delhi by Bicycle," an account of her 1962 journey through a world of vanishing tire tracks, political chaos, and moments of unexpected kindnesses. It was a journey that maturated over a two-decade period: "On my tenth birthday," the book begins, "a bicycle and an atlas coincided as presents and a few days later I decided to cycle to India." Several books later, including the cycle tour described in "One Foot in Laos," she remains at the top of her form.
Leigh Norrie's book, an account of a 6,000-mile journey across far better surfaced roads than those undertaken by Murphy, is closer to Josie Dew's 1999 "A Ride in the Neon Sun," though this newer offering is less travel book than blog. Here itinerary subsumes place. A typical entry reads, "Got to Sendai about four thirty. Had a look around a huge park next to a lake. Found a place to sleep under a bridge and went into the city centre. Seemed like a fun, busy metropolis. Took a quick look around and back to the park." That's it for Sendai, off now to Matsushima.