Published by Thomas Dunne Books / Allen & Unwin, 2014, 272 pages

I love the way Sarah Maquis begins this book: “Put on your shoes. We’re going walking.”

And walk she does, equipped with a backpack and a cart, through Mongolia, China, the Gobi Desert, Siberia, Laos, Thailand, and southern Australia. The trip took her three years, with topographical maps only—no GPS!

Maquis starts in Mongolia, providing a fascinating glimpse into a lesser-known country. She experiences some tense moments, especially in her tent at night, when horsemen ride to check out the strange woman travelling by herself. But there are also times when a wandering nomad joins her for a cup of tea or rescues her from being attacked by dogs, or when a woman selling food slips her a second helping of rice and eggs. 

Some of Maquis’s most vivid descriptions are about nature. She weathers a fierce storm, “exposed and vulnerable like the tumbleweed that the wind carries where it will”.  She has some close encounters with wildlife. Woken one night by the howls of wolves around her tent, she is tempted to howl with them but wisely opts to keep silent.

One morning, she hears plaintive cries and crawls out of her tent to investigate. “The spectacle I find is timeless. All around my tent, camels graze on the rare tufts of green. … The baby camels emit never-ending high-pitched plaintive sounds that pierce the air, while the adults move about gracefully, soundlessly, with movements that exude ease.”

She tries crossing the Gobi Desert but it’s too cold. So she flies to China, planning to cross it from the south. Starting in Yunnan province in the southwest of the country, she walks north to Sichuan. She learns numbers in sign language, which help when she is bargaining but not when she is trying to figure out where she is and all the signs are in Mandarin. Maquis walks through the Sichuan mountains, meeting ethnic minorities living in remote areas.  

And on her third try, she crosses the Gobi Desert, trusting camels to guide her to water sources.

This is a book of adventure, and I admire her courage in tackling the obstacles—human and natural—head-on. Floating down the Mekong river in a canoe, she contracts a high fever with no help at hand. She stays on the shore until it breaks. In Laos, she disturbs drug traffickers in the jungle. She manages to persuade them that she is not a threat, and after almost attacking her, they apologize and leave. In Australia, a man in a cowboy hat appears from time to bring her supplies and keep an eye on her. 

Maquis also gives us a glimpse into her philosophy of life: how walking brings her closer to nature, to the essential in life, where there are no comforts and she is sometimes pitched against the elements. She believes in listening to your body and in taking the time out to appreciate the small things in life, contrary to the way most of us are constantly rushing around. This is a lesson to be learned indeed.

This review first appeared on Women on the Road.