"If you're afraid of loneliness, don't travel": Theroux's adaptation of Chekhov's quote about marriage might bear witness to his belief in the importance of the solo voyage, but it doesn't fit the hectic tone of this miscellany, as full of chatter and clatter as an overcrowded railway carriage. A collection of excerpts from travel writing (including Paul Bowles, Freya Stark and his own, although Theroux does ease up on that as the book progresses), The Tao of Travel is most enjoyable when it heads straight for the lurid and the bizarre. A chapter entitled "Fears, Neuroses and Other Conditions", for example, is a list of writers who sought to evade or better understand their ailments through their journeys, including Henry James's battle with constipation, while a list of words for "stranger" reveals that the Tongan word for outsider means "one who fell from the sky". Like a scrapbook crackling with faded luggage labels and crumpled Polaroids, it's an eccentric guide to life on the road, a meandering map of possibilities and pitfalls in the era of GPS efficiency.