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In a world where nothing ever makes any sense, one traveller—armed with a battered diary, a questionable sense of direction, and a heroic disregard for common sense—attempts the impossible: to find meaning in every country in South America—each more gloriously confusing than the last. Nobody asked him to. He did it anyway. And this is the result.
On & Off the Gringo Trail is a wild, witty plunge through Latin America and one man’s increasingly fragile grip on reason. It’s what happens when travel writing collides headfirst with philosophy, paranoia, and jungle-grade hallucinogens—funny, feverish, and occasionally profound.
Part One launches the reader straight into Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay, Patagonia, Argentina, Chile, and Bolivia. From jungle shamans and border interrogations to cult ceremonies, death roads, and revolutionary trails, it’s a love letter to the absurdity of existence and the continent that embodies it best. This is not a guidebook. This is travel writing with a hangover—and a sense of humour. No packing lists. No hostel tips. Just the raw, delirious truth of what happens when you keep going long after good sense says stop—and what it means to be lost, alive, and utterly bewildered on the road.
In a world where nothing ever makes any sense, one traveller—armed with a battered diary, a questionable sense of direction, and a heroic disregard for common sense—attempts the impossible: to find meaning in every country in South America—each more gloriously confusing than the last. Nobody asked him to. He did it anyway. And this is the result.
On & Off the Gringo Trail is a wild, witty plunge through Latin America and one man’s increasingly fragile grip on reason. It’s what happens when travel writing collides headfirst with philosophy, paranoia, and jungle-grade hallucinogens—funny, feverish, and occasionally profound.
Part One launches the reader straight into Brazil, Paraguay, Uruguay, Patagonia, Argentina, Chile, and Bolivia. From jungle shamans and border interrogations to cult ceremonies, death roads, and revolutionary trails, it’s a love letter to the absurdity of existence and the continent that embodies it best. This is not a guidebook. This is travel writing with a hangover—and a sense of humour. No packing lists. No hostel tips. Just the raw, delirious truth of what happens when you keep going long after good sense says stop—and what it means to be lost, alive, and utterly bewildered on the road.