Subtitle to this book is "daydreaming and smoking around America with interruptions." The author travels by freighter from England to the U.S., then around the edges of the U.S. by train. She talks to people and records their conversations, most of which take place in the trains' smoking sections. None of them are particularly interesting. I read the whole book, but found it narcisistic (she admits she's a narcisist) full of tales about her days in English mental institutions, and not that entertaining. PLUS: get her an editor - please. It's Willie Mays, not Willie May. It's St.Paul-Minneapolis, not St. Paul's-Minneapolis. And the Mississippi river is certainly not in North Dakota. Then there are the English usages. What are pilchards? What is a tannoy? One person she meets says what he'd like to do with his life is "mess about on boats." No American would say that. If you want to read a good travel book, stick to Paul Theroux. If you want an interesting memoir look elsewhere.