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11 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
You Don't Want to Travel This Road!, March 7, 2005
Have you ever traveled to Europe and wondered why many locals seem to have a low opinion of American tourists? Have you ever pondered where the term "Ugly American" came from? Then look no further than The Road to Somewhere.
You want to experience Europe through the eyes of a self-centered and obnoxious middle-aged American male? Then travel with author James Dodson, who rarely has a kind or generous word to say about any person or place he encounters and whose idea of an free-spirited tour includes: endangering other tourists by insisting on playing catch with a hard baseball in the crowded courtyard surrounding the Prime Meridian (how dare those fellow visitors "turn and glare uncomprehendingly" at him?); lambasting the renowned Chartres Cathedral expert Malcolm Miller (here coyly named "Rupert Rivers") for having the effrontery to ask the author's 10-year-old son to stay in his seat during the lecture; complaining because two of the most famous cafes in Paris turn him away because he's wearing shorts (the nerve of those "snotty" doormen!); and bridling at the criticism that results when he starts shouting his son's name in Notre Dame Cathedral after the son disappears from view for half a minute. Oh, yes, and we don't want to forget that marvelously ironic incident in a public park in Amsterdam when the ubiquitous hardball, thrown by the author's son, hits a gentleman sunbathing on the grass, who then has the gall to toss the ball into a nearby pond. It's nice to know that the author restrains himself to "politely nudging" the man's shoulder with his "Maine-made boat shoe" and merely thinking nasty thoughts rather than resorting to fisticuffs.
Mr. Dodson is also an unbearably affected writer. The references to his son as "Nibs the Lost Boy" (AKA "Nibsy"), his ex-mother-in-law as "the Queen Mum," and his current wife as "Dame Wendy" are more than tiresome; even poor Jane Austen suffers the indignity of being referred to as "Janey." And have you ever encountered one of those insufferable parents who bore you to death with endless stories about how unique and marvelous their child is? Then Mr. Dodson will be all too familiar. We'll skip lightly over the numerous editorial glitches, from the use of "it's" as a possessive pronoun to the references to Paris's famous "Baton" Mouche (better known as the Bateau Mouche, in point of fact).
What might be some good alternatives to this wretched excuse of a travel book? Try Botticelli Blue Skies or A Year of Sundays instead. Both are written by Americans who are not blinded by egocentrism and arrogance, whose encounters with various locals are generally friendly rather than hostile, and who, quite frankly, are much more enjoyable and likable companions on your armchair journey. As for Mr. Dodson, please stick to your books about golf and, for the sake of the reputation of all Americans who travel abroad, stay in the United States!
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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Medieval History Lesson, July 15, 2006
This review is from: The Road to Somewhere: A Father, a Son, and a Journey Through Europe (Paperback)
This book is basically a forum for James Dodson to show off his knowledge of medieval history and mythology. He does this under the guise of teaching his 10-year-old son, Jack, about the many museums and ruins they visit in their trip. Not being terribly interested in or well informed about those subjects, I couldn't say just how accurate his teachings were. There were, however, some inexcusable mistakes in other areas, all of which should have been avoided by using a simple spellchecker and doing rudimentary research. I was surprised to see the word "amphitheater" misspelled as "ampitheater" several times, although the final few references were magically correctly spelled. I have to wonder why he didn't bother to read the brochure I'm sure he must have gotten when he and his son enjoyed the boat ride on the Seine, which he called the "Baton Mouche". The ride is properly known as the "Bateau Mouche", bateau being the French word for boat. Baton is a stick in French. Toward the end of the book, he relates missing out on a desired attraction due to a special concert which featured the famous violinist, Philippe Entremont. Since he supposedly enjoyed that concert, I would have expected that he'd have noticed that Philippe Entremont is a famous pianist, NOT a violinist. Mistakes such as these are the result of carelessness on the part of both the author and his so-called editor. I don't know exactly what editors do these days, but they are clearly not the same kind of people who used to be book editors -- specifically people who are well-versed in spelling and grammar, as well as proper form. They also used to make sure that such careless errors were corrected before a book went to press. All of the errors I've mentioned could have been avoided with a maximum of ten minutes' effort and a half decent computer.
I found the character of Dodson's 10-year-old son to be the most interesting aspect of the entire book. I also found it hard to believe that any 10-year-old American boy would have been so fascinated with the endless visits to museums and ruins (to the exclusion of almost everything else), much less his father's incessant rambling about these things. He also seemed to be inhumanly well-behaved for a kid that age, especially one who was forced to hike and climb to various ruins for hours at a time. There seemed to be very little in the way of what one would generally consider "fun" for a kid.
I think the most interesting character was Dodson's former mother-in-law, to whom he affectionately referred as "The Queen Mum". I was sorry to see her leave father and son so early in their travels. Dodson frequently referred to her as a "red tide" Scot, but never really explained what that is. I was surprised that "the boys" chose not to accompany her on her trip to Scotland, especially since they were already in England, and were such amiable travel companions. I would have thought that she would want to show them her homeland.
All in all, this was a disappointing book whose ending was completely anticlimactic.
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5 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
This is a Road worth taking!!, December 13, 2003
Sometimes the most innocent remarks we make lead on to interesting things. As James Dodson closed one of his bedtime stories to his young son which involved them roaming the ancient world, slaying dragons, fighting black nights and saving damzels in distress, young Jack looked up and said, "Dad, do you think we could do that stuff some time?...See dragons and visit real castles and things like that?" "Sure," Dodson replied. "Someday. When you are older." Well "someday" has arrived in the Dodson household and if you enjoy a well told tale you will want to join the unstructured, open ended odyssey that was their summer of 2001. It begins three days after Dodson and Dame Wendy, his true love that he met and wrote about in The Dewsweepers, are married. You might think she would be coming along on the adventure, but you would be wrong. Accompanying them for the first part of the trip is The Queen Mum, Dodson's ex-mother in law and Jack's grandmother, who being a native of Scotland is going to England before she splits off for Scotland on her own for her "semiannual inspection tour of the premises." Dame Wendy is to join them later when they have made their way to Italy. In the meantime, she is staying home to water the plants and make arrangements for the travelers over the internet as needed. If you have an inquiring mind and a free spirit you will delight in following the adventures of Jim and Jack as they travel through Europe. There are few dull moments, many humorous ones, some sobering, but always interesting. There are too many characters and situations to recount here, but I guarantee you that if you buy your ticket to join them at your local bookstore or on Amazon that you will not regret having gone along for the ride. This is the fourth book by Dodson in what has become kind of a serial autobiography of a part of his life. This may be the best of the bunch.
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