She speaks of Persia, which you better know as Iran today, and she absolutely fell in love with Afghanistan, to the point that she considered staying there. In most cases, she had exceptional hospitality extended to her, even if that meant that she ended up getting lice, sleeping in a room of apparently exceedingly filthy children. She had no sleeping bag, no blanket, and she slept on the ground very often. Murphy travelled light, and for substantial portions of her journey, basically only had the clothes she was riding in. As amazing as that tale might be, that’s almost an inconsequential detail. 25 revolver she carried with her to defend against a pack of wolves that attacked her. The usual blurbs will tell you about how Murphy had to use the. She is, beyond any shadow of a doubt, an exceptional and extremely resilient human being. Sure, borders have been redrawn and countries have changed names, and wars were started and ended since then, but Murphy’s insights remain acutely accurate to this day. The world was a totally different place in 1963, as you’d expect, and this book is a product of its time – you will notice it in the language, as well as the place names. Along the way, she kept a diary, and this book is the result of that diary.
In 1963, Europe had one of the coldest winters, and 1963, during winter, was when Dervla Murphy set off to cycle from her native Ireland to faraway India.
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