Confessions of an Ignorant Traveler: A Nomad’s Journey
By Bob Corley
I.B. Dog Publishing, 2022
Paperback: $9.25
Genre: Travel Memoir
Reviewed by Edward Journey
Bob Corley’s entertaining memoir, Confessions of an Ignorant Traveler: A Nomad’s Journey, might also be subtitled “Been There, Missed That.” Inspired by a journal the author kept during a free-wheeling backpacking trip to Europe and Israel in 1971-72 as a newly discharged army veteran, the early pages of the book detail all that Corley missed by not studying up on his itinerary before he got there. At one point, he rhapsodizes about the coastline of Greece, only to admit that “Sadly, no toe from either foot dipped into the cool … crystal-clear waters of Greece.” In Athens, he decides to “wander around” the Acropolis but won’t pay to go in. His 21-year-old self writes, “I figure I can feel history as well from the outside (free) as from the inside (cost).” Simply put, he wastes Greece.
The inauspicious beginning of the trip is in Amsterdam, that liberal and permissive mecca sought by young travelers from all over the world. After only three hours in the city, Corley hits the road. The book is full of near-misses like that; Corley visits and leaves a place, and, many years later, does research to find out and share what he missed along the way. Regrets? He has a few. But he also has some hippy dippy pronouncements along the way. “No one planned to do anything other than be where you were at that moment,” he writes, “which was somewhere other than where you had been.”
The trip quickly moves from the Netherlands through Germany, Austria, the former Yugoslavia, and Greece. Corley seems always to move toward the warmth during the cold months. From Greece, he travels to Israel and spends the longest part of the trip working as a volunteer on a kibbutz near the Sea of Galilee in the Jordan River Valley. At the kibbutz, he is assigned to a chicken processing plant (“sweaty, stinky, dirty, shit-encrusted”) and a banana factory (“tarantula-ridden”). Despite the unsavory adjectives, the descriptions of life on the kibbutz are positive, especially the interactions and bonding with travelers from all over the world. He also finds time to write songs on the kibbutz, and eventually he finds gigs in Israeli movies as a bit player and musician.
A compulsive note-taker, Corley’s journal and contemporary writing include packing lists, cultural chronologies, “Six Simple Rules for the Trip of a Lifetime,” and to-do lists. He makes impassioned pleas for keeping a journal (in ink) and old-fashioned letter writing. For solo travelers, he provides warning signs that signal when it’s time to take a travel companion, even if only for a short time. Moving to twenty-first century trends, he explains the role of Digital Nomads, working professionals who are able to work from anywhere.
Bob Corley, a musician, photographer, publisher, and long-time director/producer for Alabama Public Television, made up for the lapses of that first adventure by traveling, more extensively and less cluelessly, since. Back in the states, he married a woman who has Greek citizenship, so he surely caught up on his early near misses in Athens. Confessions of an Ignorant Traveler becomes a sort of hitchhiker’s guide. Journal passages from over half a century ago are augmented by history and roadside attractions. He includes photographs and documents from the trip, along with song lyrics written during the ten-month trek. Those songs, performed by Corley, are available on reverbnation.com. “Song for Belgrade,” an antiwar song, is my favorite of the mix.
In 1971, Corley started his “Trip of a Lifetime” with $200 in his pocket. The major point of the book seems to be to encourage others, and primarily young people, to put aside their excuses, take the plunge, and travel. The tips on hostels, exchange rates (in a time before the euro), and hitchhiking probably need some major tweaks for the contemporary reader, but it is a good start on the basics. The book also serves as a vicarious experience and inspiration for those who have a hitherto unfulfilled wanderlust.
Edward Journey, a retired university professor and theatre professional living in Birmingham, regularly shares his essays in the online journal “Professional Southerner” (www.professionalsoutherner.com).
