The most recommended road trip books

The moment I started reading this book, its tone gripped me instantly.

It fearlessly presents challenging and daunting situations with a mix of wit and courage. Darkly observant, the story unfolds with a blend of humour, fondness, and a hint of irony, making "The Leisure Seeker" a bittersweet fable of the golden years.

The book fearlessly confronts the realities and indignities of aging and disease, yet it doesn't fail to celebrate life, embracing every precious moment left in the lives of the characters, even if they are old geezers.

While the subject matter could lead to a somber narrative, the book takes an unexpected turn, becoming a genuinely life-affirming and highly entertaining tale, defying the omnipresent shadow of mortality.

The author bought a Mazda sports car on a whim, which prompted him to plan a mid-life road trip through Europe. His wife Nat decided to go along for the ride, and I am so glad she did. The banter between them is like a comedy double act. 

Road trip memoirs are frequently a catalogue of calamities, a search for self, or a directory of delectable destinations. This book is notably devoid of disasters and empty of ‘eureka' moments. In fact, very little actually happens…  

Yet in a series of wry observations, witty perspectives, and entertaining sketches, Adrian captures the flavour of the trip masterfully, with huge belly laughs thrown in. I can’t wait to read more from this thoughtful, funny writer.

I didn't expect to love a novel narrated by a cat. But I was on long flight and this book had been on my Kindle for a while. Something had drawn me to it in the first place, so I decided to give it a try. Once I got used to the cat's voice, I became slowly captivated by the story of Nana (the cat) and Satoru, the man who takes in the stray, then ends up travelling around Japan looking for a friend who can take over Nana's care. The novel unfurled like a good movie, vividly visual, quirky and heart-warming, with a mystery at its heart. As any cat lover will know, cats have the potential to heal us or to break our hearts, and what kept me reading was wondering which way this was going to go for both characters.

Metal Fish, Falling Snow is a terrific Australian road trip story, with a gorgeous cover. After Dylan’s mother suddenly dies, her mother’s boyfriend Pat drives her across the country to join her absent father’s family. During the trip, while experiencing the wilds of outback Australia first hand, Dylan gets to know Pat better. The novel deals with grief and evolving relationships, and is a very satisfying read.

The most nonfiction-forward of the bunch, Our Towns presents a remarkable journey through small towns across America.
Atlantic columnists and husband and wife duo James and Deborah Fallows fly their airplane all over the United States to explore the stories of small communities experiencing a renaissance, highlighting the creativity and innovation of community leaders across America.

This insightful book offers a refreshing glimpse into the heartland; in an age of upsetting news stories, I love how this book gives us permission to be open to good news in our communities.

Abbey wrote twenty-one books. While others considered him a “nature writer,” he roiled at that idea.

Instead, he considered himself a novelist, and he spent his entire career trying to write “the great American novel.” Published in 1988, a year before his death, Abbey called The Fool’s Progress his “fat masterpiece.” And I agree.

This might be his most intimate and emotional book. To me, this book aches with heart. This semi-autobiographical novel is about Henry Holyoak Lightcap’s journey home from the Desert Southwest to die in West Virginia.

The book is filled with reflection on death, which was what Abbey was experiencing in his own life.

Impecunious Brits George and his friend Mark decide to search for the ‘real’ America, crossing the continent from east to west in a clapped-out old car. 

At every point, amid clouds of smoke, impending mechanical Armageddon, and brushes with the law, it seems unlikely that they’ll make it. One night, in the middle of nowhere, when ominous sounds emanating from the engine, George pleads, “Not tonight, Josephine…!”

The author has a humorous conversational style and paints an unforgettable portrait of the unlikely places he passed through. I thoroughly enjoyed this bump-start, clunk, and judder across the States with the frustrating but lovable Josephine!

This story has a Huck Finn flavour to it, recast on a 1950s road trip by bus.

Orphan Donal goes from the frying pan into the fire when his grandmother, his guardian, gets sick, and he is farmed out to a nasty-tempered relative he has never met.

After all the talk of Donal having no family, his salvation comes first from Herman, a non-relative who helps him escape back onto the bus that brought him there. The two light out for the West and cobble together what will feel like family in a ragtag bunch of misfits.

This book has everything I love: witches, found family, LGBTQ+ and Indigenous representation, and burning down the patriarchy. Did I mention witches?

The main character, Métis witch Lucky St. James, is profoundly relatable, as are the other witches in her coven; the magic systems are authentic and intriguing; and the villain is appropriately dark and menacing.

It was a fun, engrossing read, and I was sad when I closed the cover for the final time. I’ll be rereading this one, and I hope Dimaline has more stories planned for these remarkable witches!

In the early 1970s, when I was a Buck Sergeant in the US Army stationed overseas in Korea, I received a small package from my cousin. He was a year older than me and in the Navy and stationed at Subic Bay in the Philippines. What was odd about the package was that he seldom mailed me anything, and certainly nothing that would be more trouble than a brief letter. I opened the package and therein lay a paperback copy of The Last Detail.

The story starts out with Petty Officer First Class William Buddusky, better known as Billy Bad-Ass, passed out drunk in the Day Room in the barracks, still in dress uniform with an almost empty bottle of cheap wine next to him. Immediately, I recognized a kindred spirit. A lifer, an enlisted man, and somebody who lived in the real world of the military as I… show more.