The Roads to Sata
Ratings4
Average rating3.5
15
Ratings4
Average rating3.5
'A memorable, oddly beautiful book' Wall Street Journal 'A marvellous glimpse of the Japan that rarely peeks through the country's public image' Washington Post One sunny spring morning in the 1970s, an unlikely Englishman set out on a pilgrimage that would take him across the entire length of Japan. Travelling only along small back roads, Alan Booth travelled on foot from Soya, the country's northernmost tip, to Sata in the extreme south, traversing three islands and some 2,000 miles of rural Japan. His mission: 'to come to grips with the business of living here,' after having spent most of his adult life in Tokyo. The Roads to Sata is a wry, witty, inimitable account of that prodigious trek, vividly revealing the reality of life in off-the-tourist-track Japan. Journeying alongside Booth, we encounter the wide variety of people who inhabit the Japanese countryside - from fishermen and soldiers, to bar hostesses and school teachers, to hermits, drunks and the homeless. We glimpse vast stretches of coastline and rambling townscapes, mountains and motorways; watch baseball games and sunrises; sample trout and Kilamanjaro beer, hear folklore, poems and smutty jokes. Throughout, we enjoy the wit and insight of a uniquely perceptive guide, and more importantly, discover a new face of an often-misunderstood nation.
Reviews with the most likes.
A wonderfully crafted tale of Booth's journey through a fascinating and culturally unique country. Whimsical and strange adventures lie behind each page.
This book is going straight to the top of my list of favorite travel narratives. What a story! What amazing people he met! And what a writer Booth is!
In the early eighties, Booth decides to travel from the tip of Japan in the north to the tip of Japan in the south. On foot. Along the way, he meets perplexing Japanese person after perplexing Japanese person. Here's a sample:
‘I recognized the turnoff to the lodging house...by a brightly lit electric sign glowing an effusive welcome...The doors of the lodging house were curtained and locked and it took five minutes of rattling them to rouse the white-shirted custodian, who bustled out finally to tell me that they were closed.
“But you've got a sign all lit up down on the highway.”
“Yes. We always keep it lit.”
“What for, for goodness' sake?”
“To make people feel welcome.”
“But you're closed.”
“That's right.”
If you like travel narratives, you will love this one. Side note: I wish you luck trying to find a copy. I've had this on my wish list for at least five years and I only found a copy this summer.
