Lone traveller. One woman, two wheels and the World. Anne Mustoe (1998)
A former headmistress’ second round-the-world cycling tour undertaken when she was 61. An undoubted feat, but leisurely done over a five-year period
Virgin Publishing 0 7535 0426 X 230 paperback pp £8.99
There’s a strong message in the opening pages of this book, and it is this: if the author, a 61-year old woman who was not especially fit, had done very little cycling and knew hardly anything about bicycles, could accomplish a round-the-world cycle tour, then it’s possible for anyone to do the same.
A rather different truth, however, emerges as her account unfolds.
Anne Mustoe first cycled around the world in 1987, that adventure resulting in her book A Bike Ride. She rode from east to west, as a continuous journey, and writes in the prologue of her second book that she soon felt the urge to set out again, but this time to circle the globe from west to east. And she would do it more leisurely; in the event it took her five years because she would complete a stage – across Australia, for instance – fly home and set out again when the weather was likely to be at its most comfortable at her next location.
She is at pains to stress that she is by no means athletic, setting herself easy daily targets, and we are assured that she does not mend punctures, and does not know the difference between a chain wheel and a sprocket. But this evidence that she has at least encountered these terms puts her a notch or two above the complete novice.
There are other respects in which she is not entirely run-of-the mill: she is scholarly – she reads Latin and Greek texts for recreation, and her itinerary was carefully planned to follow ancient trade routes – and she is enough of a linguist to pick up the rudiments of the languages she met with during her travels.
It also becomes apparent that there are certain distinct advantages for a 61-year old lone female cyclist crossing distant and potentially inhospitable lands. She was inevitably the subject of much curiosity and not a little admiration. Only in a remote province of China did things look as though they might come unstuck. Many days into this leg of her journey, she was informed by the local chief of police that she was breaking a law which forbade foreigners to cycle in China at all, and must be punished for it.
Did she end up languishing in a Chinese jail? No; it all ended happily and she was allowed to continue on her way, only realising later that her route had taken her close to the highly-sensitive area where the Chinese were carrying out nuclear tests.
Rather than tell her story chronologically, the author has arranged the chapters according to content. Thus there are Good Days (numerous), Bad Days (none of them disastrous), Solitude (which she enjoys), Police (remarkably co-operative) and so on.
This scheme has logic on its side, but robs her account of adventure, drama and urgency.
Although it is certainly about cycling, and the joys of a following wind and perfect weather and stunning scenery, and the unpleasantness of relentless headwinds and dreary landscapes, this travel book has at its heart the one-off experiences of a one-off traveller who is nevertheless very sensible, very well organised and so very efficient that the chances of anything going seriously wrong are remote.
Anne Mustoe’s adventure was spread over five years, and despite this book’s enticing subtitle, her attempt to bring a sense of continuity to it was probably doomed at the outset for that very reason.
STB Dec 11