Mediterranean Winter: The Pleasures of History and Landscape in Tunisia, Sicily, Dalmatia, and the Peloponnese

This is a delightful piece of travel writing by one of the genre's masters as he wanders through some of the most history-rich real estate in the world. Covering both sides of the Mediterranean --in winter, no less -- Kaplan weaves into his narrative the historical heritage and significance of each place he visits. At each stop he shares his personal impressions, as well. One of the most endearing qualities of this book is the tribute he pays to other travel writers who covered the same ground over the years, ranging from the Homeric era to modern day. For me, the book ended perfectly, as Kaplan concludes his trip at the Greece home of Patrick Leigh Fermor, the legendary travel writer and war hero, whose books chronicling his walk across Europe as the storm clouds of WWII were gathering, remain travel writing classics. Kaplan has paid his dues as a journalist, with his years of visiting mostly third world countries, staying in ratty hotel rooms, surviving on boiled eggs, and spending endless and boring hours on buses to nowhere. This has given him rare insights into our world and its people -- insights he generously shares with us. It's like taking a trip with a master traveler. A masterpiece.

One of Kaplan's most recent works is an excellent read, suitable for a lazy Sunday morning when one is noshing on a bagel and daydreaming about traveling the southern 'fringe' of Europe. The prose is captivating and lyrical, particularly in Tunisia and Dalmatia. It is also a fascinating look at the development of the man as he makes his leap from 'travel writer' to 'current events' writer and journo. One point in the book stands out in my mind. This is Kaplan's encounter with a West-hating North African, who nonetheless comes to develop a wary friendship with the author. Over time, Kaplan's aquiaintance grows out of his radicalism and acquires a middle-class lifestyle, with a job and a mortgage. (Which development followed the other is left up to the reader to decide.) I only caution that those who approach Kaplan's work from his hard-hitting current events books might be slightly let down with this effort. One can certainly see the beginnings of the memes and keen insights that Kaplan sprinkles liberally throughout his other work. However, this is a book about history and the 'deeper' pleasure of travel, not a meditation on the state of things to come.

As in "Balkan Ghosts," Kaplan writes with great clarity and intelligence, weaving a fine travel narrative founded on extensive historical research. He writes with a unique and creative eye, and tends to focus on important yet little-known locales. He philosophizes quite a bit, but it is an intriguing, pleasurable philosophy. The following quote from his section on Greece crystallizes for me the special appeal of this type of writing, "...travel writing, rather than a low-rent occupation for the Sunday supplements, could also be a means to explore art, history, literature, and statecraft..." Precisely! Bravo, Kaplan! Reviewed by David Lundberg, author of Olympic Wandering: Time Travel Through Greece

Impressions are akin to the distillates of grape rinds which when aged in the charred barrel of time yield the fine cognac of memories that become smoother and more satisfying with age. Mediterranean Winter is not an account of a recent journey or the nostalgic pining for youth but rather the mature reflections of a man whose impressions of a lifetime of world travel have been aged in the in the cask of the mind. Kaplan’s work is a delicate blend of autobiography, travel, philosophy, and above all, history. Like a fine cognac it is smooth, delicious, and relaxing. The book commences with his very first journey, wanderings through Tunisia. My wife and I had the pleasure of traveling there in the mid 1990’s. His descriptions of Tebersouk rekindled my memories of that town in an early spring, a meal of runny eggs with fresh French bread, the quaintness of the village, and the heartfelt "Bon Jour" expressed by the school children. I still savor that crisp morning in the ancient Roman amphitheatre at Douga gazing in awe at the emerald green fields in the valley below and listening to the mellifluous exhaust tone of a moped as it serpentined the narrow road. I recollect gazing out our train window en route to El Djem and the sudden appearance of the Roman Colosseum replete with all its ancient glory. Sitting in the stands under the brazen Mediterranean sun it took but little imagination to hear the clanging of metal on metal and the roar of the crowds. But most of all, I shall never forget the warmth and kindness of the Tunisians themselves. While Tunis brings back delicious memories his discussions of Sicily, Greece, and Dubrovnik elicit longings to visit these places so rich in history. I visited Athens, and like Kaplan who intended on staying but a few days remained eight years, I also, could have remained years. My wife too was seduced by Athens’ charm as an immigrant traveling from Eastern Europe to the United Stated. She remained captive to its charms for nine months. To this day she refers to Athens as ‘home’. Her final wish is that her ashes be scattered at Placa in Athens. Kaplan imbues his travels with history. We are its products and what better ways can we understand ourselves than through history and what better way to understand history than to stand on its consecrated sacred soil. I found his historical discussions of such places as Sicily, Dubrovnik, and the southern Peloponnesus both intriguing and delightful. Perhaps most interesting of all was the reoccurring motif of the difference between the Byzantine and the Western ethos. Byzantine geography is so close and our history so intertwined but yet our consciousness is so divided. This is best exemplified by his encounter with the Russian seminary students in the Peloponnesus. The best chapter is the last chapter entitled "The Last Pasha of the Mediterranean". In it he chronicles a visit to a most amazing man, one who journeyed from his England to Istanbul on foot! Patrick Lei

Robert D Kaplan's latest book, "Mediterranean Winter: The Pleasures of History and Landscape in Tunisia, Sicily, Dalmatia, and Greece," is written in the tradition of what was known in the 1930's as "landscape companions." The most well-known practitioners of this lost art were Robert Byron, David Talbot Rice, Lawrence Durrell, and Patrick Leigh Fermor.(They were all children of the British Empire.) This book recounts a journey Kaplan took shortly afer graduating from college in the mid 1970's. Kaplan writes: "With this journey, I acquired the habit of searching books linked to landscapes and seascapes through which I traveled. Reading became surgery; a way of dissecting the surrounding landscape and may own motivations for being there." This is not the tourism of our present age, which is an escape from the drudgery of work; this is travel as work. Every landscape, every ruin suggests a book or an author. Every train trip or boat ride fills another notebook with observations and reflections. Travel teaches us about history - the rise and fall of civilizations, the ebb and flow of empires. Kaplan's prose is on overdrive when travels through northern Tunisia. He recalls on a bus trip: "...the sculpted, liver-hued steppe of northern Tunisia and the pinks of the southern deserts, with their vast blotches of salt; interior tablelands racked by lonely, bone-chilling winds and the grave, museum light of late afternoons; the smoking and hacking coughs of the other passengers wrapped like ghosts in their caftans in the pre-dawn darkness, drooping woolen sleeves concealing their hands; the comforting smell of tea, fresh bread, sharp cheese, and harissa at half-empty cafes where the bus stopped after sunrise, with their loud music, scabby walls, and bitter espresso served in whiskey glasses only a third full; the just-boiled eggs that would keep my hands warm in the bus, bought at a cafe or given to me by a friendly passenger with whom I might share may sunflower seeds." Kaplan has said elsewhere that waited until middle age to write this book in order to avoid the purple prose of youth; however, there are some delightful moments of recidivism. In Tunisia, Kaplan uncovers the layers of history of this north African country, focusing mainly on the Carthaginian era and the subsequent conquest by Rome. Rome is still everywhere present in the landscape of Tunisia, from the roads and aqueducts to the Colosseum at El Djem, and Kaplan illustrates this vividly. Also fascinating is his journey through Sicily. In Sicily, he sees the legacy of the Crusades. In the 1100's, two brothers from Normandy, Robert and Roger of Hauteville, conquered Moslem Sicily and created a modern multicultural state, in which Normans, Latins, Greeks, and Arabs could live together and prosper. The historian John Julius Norwich describes this era in depth in "The Kingdom in the Sun." Kaplan then travels to Tivoli, east of Rome, where he explores Hadrian's Villa. "Hadrian's