There are two kinds of travel books - the "guidebook" with sights, prices, accommodation ideally suited for those seeking comfort instead of adventure. Glossy photos, usually portraying conditions found on movie sets, detailed maps, prices listed. The other type is the personal journal, which, properly done, imparts a far better sense of "being there" than does the guidebook. Short's chronicle is the second type, a vivid sharing of his thoughts, experiences, disasters, even love. The means of travel was by bus. Just finding one was fraught with hazards - timing, crowding or even just running. Once boarded, there was the issue of finding the proper seat: "Sit in the rear. Bandits will shoot through the front window." On a limited budget the "guidebook" hotels were out of the question for Short. Many havens he found for a night's rest became adventures in their own right. Weather, ever a primary topic for travellers, added its own quirks - a major Caribbean hurricane being the most spectacular.

These minor discomforts aside, Short's recital of his travels points up the many benefits of journeying solo. One of these is that you don't remain alone for long. Not every acquaintance is a welcome companion, but none are dull. They bring their lives into his view, and to ours. Short meets former convicts, travellers from Europe, Canada and Australia. Not limiting himself to fellow "gringos" he deals well with the local residents. Although a few are not as friendly as he - he's robbed twice and has the usual tangles with bureaucrats, cheating taxi drivers and sullen hoteliers. Still, he maintains his equanimity, exhibiting strength in adverse circumstances. In this modern age he can turn to internet cafes, at one point spending more on email and 'net surfing than on accommodation and food.