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Sandwiches Should NEVER Taste Like Cow Crap
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Reviews |
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Sandwiches Should Never Taste Like Cow Crap
Sandwiches Should Never Taste Like Cow Crap is a collection of accidental lessons from travel writer Dave Lowe. From his madcap overland journeys though Japan, Korea, Vietnam, Cambodia, the horn of Africa, Nepal, India and the Maldives, along the way, Dave has learned:
- Don't ever wear black in India
- If the gods are watching, smile back
- Yak fur comes up easier than it goes down
- If a rat runs over your foot, relax: you'll grow rich.
After run-ins with evil customs agents, Tatami Dragon Ladies, randy camels, Khmer Rouge soldiers, and more, could his size 13 shoes be spreading mayhem and chaos with every step?
Only the Travel Gods know for sure….
After reading his book, you won't be eating a sandwich without carefully scrutinizing the contents first.
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Clips & Quotes
'Pachinko Balls'
Then FECG stood up and gave my suitcase a sharp kick. And another. And another. Spit was flying out of his mouth and a wisp of hair stood straight up to the ceiling from what I guessed to be from all the static electricity he had built up.
Did he expect drugs to fall out, like a piñata from the Midnight Express cast party?
With a sharp flick, he unzipped my suitcase and poked around, lifting up clothes and books and socks like they were contaminated with asbestos. Then he dumped all my things onto the floor, and I shouted at him to put them back.
‘Shut up!’ he yelled, and I was ordered to sit down and wait with a tremulous point of his stubby finger, the color of old ivory chopsticks.
Ten minutes later, with the contents of my suitcase artistically splattered all over the ground, nothing unusual had been found. Well, they did find some clothes that I had neglected to wash.
I was as guilty as charged for that. Absolutely guilty. No contest. I was beginning to think he was going to charge me for this traveler’s crime and send me to prison for this inexcusable mistake.
Unhappy at the lack of drugs falling out of my bag, FECG gave my suitcase a final kick and then ordered me to stand up. And so I did, knees shaking.
And then, before I could even protest, he ordered the unthinkable.
Come again?
I was getting strip-searched.
Gulp.
'Filthy Beasts'
There, no more than five feet away was a wild hyena, slinking through the dark in search of an easy meal, it's eyes reflected in the light. I sprang back as if from a cobra, and he laughed.
When we reached a clearing in the bushes, Haile threw out a few cow bones and his friend began making strange cawing noises that brought creatures to the edge of the opening, warily looking at the humans there. Before long, there were ten hyenas, including three babies, cautiously walking closer to the pile of bones. Suddenly, one lunged out, grabbed one, and tore off into the bushes pursued by a few rivals. Haile himself then stepped over to the pile, and picked up a long bone, and offered it the nearest animal. Gingerly, it approached as the nearby rivals howled in fear, and when it grabbed the bone, he motioned me to come forward to feed one.
I took the longest bone I could find, remembering that hyenas have the strongest jaws in the animal kingdom, and weakly imitated the sounds Haile had made. There, in the moonlight, softly cawing, holding out an animal bone, I thought to myself, what am I doing here, in the middle of the cold Ethiopian Highlands, acting like some Steve Irwin?
A moment later, a hyena locked eyes with me, and I kept singing that strange sounding song as the hyena drew closer; I was shaking so hard I nearly dropped the bone: I could see it's teeth clearly in the moonlight, exposed, and a second later lunged at me and clamped down on the bone. I could not only feel the power of its vice-like jaws as it quickly snatched the bone away; I also could smell its foul breath that could have easily peeled paint off a wall. Haile clapped his hands, and for the next half an hour, we fed the remaining hyenas until the bones were gone.
'White Sands, Dark Nights'
Once in Dar Es Salaam, I stepped off my last African bus trip, and gratefully boarded the first ferry I could for Zanzibar. In Stonetown, the principal town of the island, I stayed for two days, wandering the narrow passageways and admiring the bustling port, which was full of cats.
When I bent down to pet one, remembering the line from Thoreau, ‘It is not worth the while to go round the world to count the cats in Zanzibar,’ the slinky feline took one look at me, hissed like a cobra and scratched me on the hand and arm.
Meow.
‘He got scratched by cats in Zanzibar.’ It could go on my tombstone.
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Reviews
'The world, according to Dave Lowe, is a dangerous place -- full of sadistic customs agents, decaying airplanes and toothlessly grinning old women. It is therefore also a wonderful, hilarious place, the kind of world you'd visit yourself if only you had Lowe's wit, open-mindedness and unerring penchant for disaster.'
Matt Gross, The New York Times' Frugal Traveler
'Dave Lowe's writing is fast, funny, and so full of life that you can only imagine how from now on everyone will do anything they can to imitate his style.'
Tahir Shah, author of The Caliph's House etc.
‘Dave Lowe spares you the humdrum of life on the road that plagues so much travel writing today. Instead, he cuts right to the chase with the sort of outrageous highlights you'd want to hear if you were lucky enough to saddle up next to him at the bar.’
Doug Lansky, author of The Last Trout In Venice
'From chair throwing Frenchwomen to machete-wielding Vietnamese sandwich makers, Sandwiches Should NEVER Taste Like Cow Crap is proof positive that travel only starts to get real interesting when things go wrong.'
Peter Moore, author of No Shitting in the Toilet and Swahili for the Broken Hearted
‘Some travelers have to go out of their way to find adventure, but for Dave Lowe, the opposite seems to be *true: adventure seems to seek him out instead. Through his highly readable madcap episodes, readers are there, right beside him, taken along for one wickedly funny, turbulent flight.’
Pilot Guides, Ltd., creator of the award winning television series, Globetrekker
‘Dave Lowe's book shows that having the right attitude has a lot to do with the enjoyment of travel. Despite frequent falls off the proverbial horse, Lowe saddles back up with wit and passion for more. The stories in this book are marvelous and memorable.’
Justine Shapiro, documentary filmmaker and host of Globetrekker
‘Sandwiches Should NEVER Taste Like Cow Crap wends its way as far off the tourist track as one could possibly imagine while maintaining a deliciously madcap, hair-raising yet often hilarious, sense of high adventure. Bless him for taking his readers where I suspect the majority of us would fear to tread…..or - I suspect most would fear to tread.’
Jay Koren, author of The Company We Kept
‘David Lowe’s new travelogue Sandwiches Should NEVER Taste Like Cow Crap is an exciting and refreshing read. He has a writing style that is all his own: fresh, personable, and peppered with his own humorous observations and antidotes. As I read the chapter on Japan, I felt less that I was reading travel book, and more that I was sitting with a good friend, listening to one hilarious travel tale after another. I could hardly wait to find what happened next.’
Wade Brackenbury, author of Yak Butter and Black Tea
At last--a travel narrative that dispenses with movie-of-the-week reverence and gives us the straight dish. Travel, down and dirty, from amorous camels to AK-47 toting Khmer Rouge. Stow your trays, get your seats in the upright position, and get ready for a helluva ride."
Gregg Hurwitz, author of The Kill Clause
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