Dervla Murphy and her daughter Rachel – with little money, no taste for luxury and few concrete plans – meander their way slowly south from Bombay to the southernmost point of India, Cape Comorin. Interested in everything they see, but only truly enchanted by people, they stay in fishermen’s huts and no-star hotels, travelling in packed-out buses, on foot and by local boats.
Instead of pressing ever onwards, like so many travellers, they double back to the place they liked most, the hill province of Coorg and settle down to live there for two months. Dervla Murphy creates an extraordinarily affectionate portrait of these cardamon-scented, spiritually and agriculturally self-sufficient Highlands.
‘A travel writer of rare quality and freshness.’ – The Observer
‘Murphy spans the wide range of sensation of India, where moments of great happiness come hard upon frustration and stench.’- The Guardian
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