Notes from a Small Island (NHB Modern Plays): (stage version)

By Bill Bryson

'So, if you Americans already have cornflakes and Woolworths, what brings you to England?'
It's 1973, and a young man from Des Moines, Iowa, has arrived on the ferry at Dover. He intends to conquer the whole of the island, like Caesar attempted before him.
But Caesar didn't have to deal with counterpanes, kippers, Cadbury's Curly Wurlies, or Mrs Smegma the landlady's eccentric house rules. As Bill travels the length and breadth of Britain, through villages with names like Titsey and Little Dribbling, something strange starts to happen. Can it be true? Is he really starting to feel at home?
Bill Bryson's smash-hit memoir Notes from a Small Island spent three years in The Sunday Times bestseller list, sold over two million copies, and was voted the book which best represents the UK.
Tim Whitnall's hilarious stage adaptation was first produced at the Watermill Theatre, Newbury, in 2023. Written for an ensemble cast of seven (but suitable for a cast of dozens), it will appeal to amateur drama groups as a glorious celebration of one of the nation's most beloved books, and a brilliant dissection of the enduring quirks of our small island.
'So, if you Americans already have cornflakes and Woolworths, what brings you to England?'
'A comic pleasure… has a revue-like charm… abounds in nostalgia and warmth' - Telegraph
'A thoroughly enjoyable piece of theatre… With more than 80 characters and incorporating almost as many cities, Tim Whitnall's adaptation [is] a hugely ambitious project… it manages to capture the spirit of the novel… This tour of Britain has been lovingly recreated… with a strong, diverse ensemble, gradually building up a picture of Britain over the decades… hilarious' - The Stage
'A pilgrimage of delight… Delicious fun… wonderfully vivid cameos, to great comic effect and always affectionate rather than simply caricature' - WhatsOnStage

'A whirlwind of adventure… lovingly evokes images of Britain in times gone by… ignites an unexpected surge of patriotism' - West End Best Friend

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Release date: Mar 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9781788506700

Bill Bryson

William ('Bill') McGuire Bryson is an American–British journalist and author. His books include Notes from a Small Island (1995), A Short History of Nearly Everything (2003) and The Road to Little Dribbling (2015). He was chancellor of Durham University from 2005 to 2011.

Book preview

ACT ONE

Scene One

Music: 1951 version of ‘Wandering Star’.

Silhouetted against an amber sunset, a figure in a Stetson, neckerchief and cowboy boots faces us: the BILL BRYSON of his own fantasies – gunslinger, matinee idol and superhero.

Downstage: a 1950s American MOVIE TRAILER ANNOUNCER in jacket and tie – hair Brilliantined – stands at a microphone, reading from a script.

ANNOUNCER. ‘He came from Des Moines, Iowa. Somebody had to. William McGuire Bryson: mild-mannered paperboy. Mild-mannered, that is, until any unsuspecting moron incurring his displeasure: babysitters, Richard Nixon, old people wanting a kiss would all find themselves vaporised in a flash with one look from the eyeballs of – ’

BILL. Whoa! Hold it right there!

Music stops abruptly.

BILL turns to reveal the superhero embellishments to his outfit: mask, cape, rapier and whip. The centrepiece of his garb is a green jersey emblazoned with a thunderbolt of golden satin.

How could anyone – let alone a moron – ‘find themselves vaporised’? I’m guessing they wouldn’t know too much about it.

ANNOUNCER. You think I get paid to proofread?

BILL. There’s also the music.

ANNOUNCER (under breath). He didn’t like the music.

BILL. You see, as a kid I imagined myself as the kind of superhero I read about in comic books or watched in B-movies. The Lone Ranger fought for law and order, Roy Rogers and Trigger battled those evil communists, whilst Batman and Robin looked as if they were on their way to a gay Mardi Gras. I obliterated morons.

Sighing, the ANNOUNCER nods offstage-right, cueing music: ‘RKO-style/B-movie theme’.

That’s more like it. Pray continue.

ANNOUNCER. Ahem. (Reads.) ‘Originally from the Planet Electro in the distant galaxy of Zizz, the chosen one travelled here in a silver rocket-ship, touching down in Des Moines in the earth year 1951, placed amidst an innocuous American family who were hypnotised into believing little Billy Bryson was one of their own.’ (Aside, to BILL.) How are we doing?

BILL. Any speed bumps, I’ll let you know.

ANNOUNCER (reads). ‘To Earthlings he was merely the son of Mary and Bill Bryson Sr, two hard-working journalists, quite unaware that their wunderkind was in actual fact the scourge of morons: the stupendously incredible Thunderbolt Kid!’

BILL. Aw, come on. You gotta be kidding?

Music stops again.

BILL indignantly stomps downstage.

‘Stupendously incredible’? It’s tautological.

ANNOUNCER. Taught-o-what?

BILL. My ThunderVision – trademark registered 1951 – can either be stupendous or incredible.

ANNOUNCER. I’ll pass it on to the playwright.

BILL. I could always carbonise them with my ThunderVision?

ANNOUNCER gulps.

I’m kidding! (Snatches script; reading.) ‘In 1973, the Kid’s Thunder Antennae picked up the call to visit a small island in the middle of the Atlantic storm belt whose citizens had just voted to join an organisation known as the European Economic Community; whose all-powerful Stock Exchange was about to admit women for the first time; and whose evil heads of state were set to impose a pernicious duty known as Value Added Tax…’

Removing his mask, he returns the script to the ANNOUNCER.

You’d better drive from here, I’ve gotta get changed. This is a ridiculous outfit for a grown man to be wearing, right? Even by 1973 standards.

ANNOUNCER. I didn’t like to say.

BILL. In fact, why don’t we ditch the whole superhero device?

ANNOUNCER. Really? What about me?

BILL. I’m sure we can find something for you in Act Two.

ANNOUNCER. So the whole ‘1950s Middle America’ thing –

BILL. Nothing more than a ruse to get us going. (To audience.) Oh, and if in the unlikely event any of you might want to take the whole ‘1950s Middle America’ thing any further, I did actually write a memoir of my childhood in 2003.

ANNOUNCER. If we’re done with the flagrant plugs, we ought to get back to the story.

BILL. You’re right. Some of these good people have second homes to go to.

Glances offstage-right.

Cue the seagulls.

SFX: seagulls.

And don’t forget the distant but clearly audible foghorn.

SFX: foghorn. BILL exits.

ANNOUNCER (reads). ‘And so, on that chill, foggy night of March 20th 1973, Bill Bryson stepped aboard the ferry from Calais to Dover, looking forward to meeting a people and its customs, weather systems and dietary peculiarities the like of which he’d never known. This was to be an odyssey that would change his life forever…’

Music: ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ – Vera Lynn.

Scene Two

Marine Parade, Dover – Midnight.

SFX: cars/lorries/chatter.

ANNOUNCER (reads). ‘In Dover, the terminal was aswarm with activity as cars and lorries poured forth, customs people performed their customary duties, and everyone headed for the London Road. Then, abruptly, all was silence. And stepping from the gangplank, our hero took his first tentative steps on English soil.’

Re-entering, BILL wears a cagoule, baseball cap and trainers, sporting a rucksack. He stares around at his unfamiliar surroundings, wide-eyed.

BILL. How wonderful –

ANNOUNCER (reads). ‘Bill thought to himself – ’

BILL. To have a whole English town entirely to myself.

ANNOUNCER (reads). ‘Looking around, he spotted the flickering light of a television filling the upstairs window of a guest house across the road. The path was pitch dark, and in his eagerness and unfamiliarity with British doorways…’

BILL trips clumsily on the step.

SFX: milk bottles smashing/cat screeching/sash window rising.

A LANDLADY’s voice rings out from the first floor.

LANDLADY. I’ve got a gun, you know!

BILL. A gun?!

LANDLADY. Fired in anger during the Mau Mau uprising.

BILL. By who? By you?

LANDLADY. By our Martin.

BILL. You don’t say?

LANDLADY. I do say. And he assures me it’s still in perfect working order. What do you want?

BILL. I’m looking for a room.

LANDLADY. Can’t help you. Sorry.

BILL. But, your sign says ‘vacancies’.

LANDLADY. My sign’s short-circulated. Damp in the dooberries.

BILL. So you do have rooms?

LANDLADY. I do, but I’m closed. You’ll have to try The Churchill on the front.

BILL. On the front of what?

SFX: window closing. Dejected, BILL strolls onwards.

(To audience.) The Churchill Hotel was sumptuous and well-lit. Through a window I spotted a few late-nighters keeping the bar open, as suave and as elegant as characters from a Noël Coward play. Their tariff would clearly be beyond my meagre budget.

Ambles on.

And then, a little further along Marine Parade, I spotted it…

Pulls up, delighted.

Sure, it was open to the elements and its bench was slatted and studded with bolts that would render the act of reclining abject torture, but it was roofed! Best of all, a Dover District Council seafront shelter was one joint I could afford!

He lies on the bench, deputising his rucksack for a pillow and drawing his jacket around him.

Don’t ask me how, but I drifted off into a long, cold night of mumbled dreams…

SFX: a clock chimes four.

Or so I’d thought…

He awakes with a gasp. Digging through his backpack he extracts/dons every warming item he can find: a scarf, woollen socks as mittens, and a pair of underpants that he puts on his

Reviews for Notes from a Small Island (NHB Modern Plays)

[anniik_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Good travelogue. A bit redundant, but I enjoyed it.

[zoes_human · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Maybe it's because I've worked for 25 years in customer service, but listening to some middle-class dude complain about trivialities is not my idea of entertainment, it's work.In the main, the book was okay. There were some hilarious bits, however, much of the humor was in the form of grousing, which is not to my taste. I was thinking it was going to be a 3-star book as some bits dragged, but then . . . at page 274, so close to the end, I hit this:In the end, fractious and impatient, I went into a crowded McDonald's, waited ages in a long, shuffling line, which made me even more fractious and impatient, and finally ordered a cup of coffee and an Egg McMuffin."Do you want an apple turnover with that?"asked the young man who served me.I looked at him for a moment. "I'm sorry," I said, "do I appear to be brain-damaged?""Pardon?""Correct me if I'm wrong, but I didn't ask for an apple turnover, did I?""Uh . . . no""So do I look as if I have some mental condition that would render me unable to ask for an apple turnover if I wanted one?""No, it's just that we're told to ask everyone, like.""What, you think everyone in Edinburgh is brain-damaged?""We're just told to ask everyone, like.""Well, I don't want an apple turnover, which is why I didn't ask for one. Is there anything else you'd like to know if I don't want?""We're just told to ask everyone.""Do you remember what I do want?"He looked in confusion at his cash register "Uh, an Egg McMuffin and a cup of coffee.""Do you think I might have it this morning or shall we talk some more?""Oh, uh, right, I'll just get it""Thank you."Well, honestly.That's just not funny. Subjecting an employee to shaming sarcasm because you're having a crappy day isn't my idea of humor. It's not even my idea of being a basically acceptable human being.I read a bit further on to see if the author ever expressed any sort of awareness that the scene above describes an overbearing bully belittling a employee in the middle of a rush for executing their job as required by their employer. He didn't. There were some good laughs in the book, but nothing that could make up for my disgust at this. In particular given that it was preceded by another bit where he totally blows up on some poor hotel clerk, this seems likely to be pattern behavior. I gave the hotel scene a pass since he owned some chagrin for that one. But this, this is completely unacceptable behavior. If you aren't bothered by this, you are part of the problem.I DNFed shortly after this scene even thought there were only 37 pages left. I'm so disgusted by what I just read that I feel faintly queasy.

[dylkit · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A bit outdated now, it might be interesting to read 'The Road to Little Dribbling' which seems to be a sort of follow up. A bit patronising at times, he over -eggs some stereotypes. He also inexplicably said Glasgow was the capital city of Scotland.. Some of it is prescient, though, and some of the things he noted as in decline have only become worse - public transport, building in greenbelt areas, a lack of sensitivity (or sometimes apparently even thought ) in granting planning permission. All in all a light read, a good distraction, but I can't say there were any laugh-out loud moments.

[brittaniethekid · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first book from Bryson I've read and my only regret is not reading it much sooner. I am completely charmed by Bryson with his dry, sarcastic whit and care-free attitude when it comes to writing down his actual feelings about a place that is completely crap, something a lot of travel writers probably avoid. I was glad this wasn't written like a memoir - the writer doesn't go on about his past experiences (though you do get some quips about his life and family) - but rather takes you on as a travel companion and has a conversation with you about what he's doing. If you love anything about Britain, I definitely recommend this.

[mindatlarge · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This was my 2nd Bryson book, and I must say that I enjoyed A Walk In the Woods far more than this.

Summary: grumble grumble, bad modern architecture, mediocre meal, grumble grumble, annoying person, bad building, bad meal, grumble, rain. Sure, it was funny as hell in parts too but I'm hoping my next Bryson read is more light-spirited.

[murderbydeath · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I've come to the conclusion that I can't read/listen to too many Bryson books back-to-back. It's very much like travelling with someone for too long: eventually they start doing things that get on your nerves. Overall I enjoyed the book, and there are several additional places in England that I'd like to see on future trips. But I got weary of listening to Bryson complain about how much things cost, and sometimes... sometimes he was kind of mean and crotchety in a way that I felt passed the line of amusing, fumbling tourist and went straight into stereotypical obnoxious-tourist territory. I might not have felt that way if I'd spaced these books out a bit more. I'm still a fan, but I'll be taking a break until after the new year to start another. N.B.: Richard Williams is excellent as the narrator; I often forgot he wasn't actually Bryson, he owned this narration that much.

[ionas_7 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is my first book by Bill Bryson. It describes his trip around England, Scotland and Wales (though not Northern Ireland). I didn’t think the book was as good as Paul Theroux´ one on his trip, but Bryson was funnier. I will now be reading all Bryson’s books if I manage it in this incarnation (but I’m told we can read books on the other side so I may read them there if not here). The reason for Bryson being so funny is partly because he tells us all his thoughts and deliberations, including everything and everyone he doesn’t like. He is an American, so when he first came to Britain, there were many words and phrases unfamiliar to him. Among other things, he was admonished by a guest house madam that he needed to remove his counterpane before sleeping, and had to wrack his brains to find out what on earth a counterpane was; he eventually had to go to a public library and look up the word in a dictionary, (If it had been me, I would have directly asked the woman - Mrs Smegma - what a counterpane was – we can’t know everything.) She also criticized him for numerous things, justly or unjustly, including why twice in a row he had neglected to eat his fried tomato at breakfast, When in Dover again, he passes by Mrs Smegma´s hotel and reflects that she will now be dead or in a nursing-home. He hopes she is in a nursing-home being reprimanded and demeaned as he was by her. He begins his trip in London, which he deems to be “the most wonderful city in the world”. He had formerly been a sub-editor at The Times. Everything was strange to him in Britain. “I saw a man in a newsagent’s ask for “twenty Number Six” and receive cigarettes, and presumed for a long time afterwards that everything was ordered by number in a newsagent´s, like in a Chinese takeaway. I sat for half an hour in a pub before I realized that you had to fetch your own order, then tried the same thing in a tea-room and was told to sit down.” All the shop ladies called him “love”. He is travelling around the country by public transport. He visits the cathedral in Salisbury and is in no doubt that Salisbury cathedral is “the single most beautiful structure in England”. As far as I recall, H.V.Morton believed that Durham cathedral was the absolute loveliest. (The only cathedral I¨ve seen is the one at Chartres, so I wouldn´t know.) Subsequently, Bryson also votes that Durham cathedral is the best “on planet Earth”. He also visits Stonehenge and finds that you can no longer go up to the stones. I was lucky enough to visit it long ago when I could touch the stones and try to feel their energies. He goes to Sutton Courtenay where George Orwell is buried and finds the inscription on it to be “curiously terse””, in that it didn’t mention he was a famous author. He also finds the grave of Herbert Henry Asquith, stating he had been “Prime Minister of England”, which he notes is incorrect, he having been a prime minister of the U.K. Thank you, Bill! The grave was sinking into the ground “in an alarming manner”. He notes that in Britain people from unprivileged backgrounds are often mysteriously well-educated and “how the most unlikely people will tell you plant names in Latin or turn out to be experts on the politics of ancient Thrace or irrigation techniques at Glanum”. The grand final of a programme like Mastermind is frequently won by “cab drivers and footplatemen”, Princes Street, in Edinburgh, has been spoilt; all that is left of value/interest being the Balmoral Hotel, the Scott Monument and “part of the front of Jenners Department Store”. British people have an “innate sense of good manners” and almost any encounter with a stranger begins with the words “I’m terribly sorry but” followed by a request of some sort. Princes Street was “a scar of architectural regrettabilities”, but George Street and Queen Street looked “positively ravishing”. Aberdeen was prosperous and clean, but was so much like everywhere else. He liked Inverness with its 19th-century sandstone castle, fine river, splendid river walks and cathedral. But it was spoiled by two “sensationally ugly modern office buildings”. They ruined the entire town. One of the buildings, overlooking one of the “handsomest rivers in Britain” was “awful, awful, awful beyond words”. Bryson takes the train from Inverness to Thurso, the northernmost town on the British mainland. He heads for John O´Groats which he had heard about for years but it turned out it was just a place to stop and buy postcards and ice-cream. He neglects to tell us what he had heard about John O´Groats. Back in Glasgow, he entertains us by his reproduction of Glaswegian speech, which he doesn’t understand a word of. “D’ye nae a lang roon?” and “D’ye dack ma fanny?” (I don’t know what the person meant either, though in my own experience I always have understood Glaswegians. But then I’m Scottish, not American.) “D’ye hae a hoo and a poo? - If ye dinna dock ma donny.” He responds by saying “I’m sorry, my ears are very bad.” It seems to me that Bryson is somewhat scared of conflicts. Why doesn’t he just say “Sorry, I don’t understand." He takes a look at George Square, “the handsomest in Britain”. Glasgow had “new-found prosperity and polish” but also a sense of “grit and menace” which he found “oddly exhilarating”. H returns to the Yorkshire Dales, where he lives. He tells us that people there walk right into your house, usually without knocking, so he often had to scurry away in his underwear to hide. (If it were me, I would lock the front door.) Yorkshire people have the reputation for being mean-spirited and uncharitable when actually they are decent, open and helpful. He realized what he loved about Britain – all of it. “Every last bit of it, good and bad” - people saying “I’m terribly sorry but”, people apologizing to him when he “conks them with his elbow”, marmite, beans on toast, etc, etc. What a wondrous place it was, “crazy as f---”, of course”, but adorable. Lovely to hear that Bill Bryon loves my birth country, and thanks for the book.

[reader1009-863136 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Audio recording (nonfiction/travel-humor). I think we stopped around disc 4, but might pick it back up again the next time we drive somewhere.

Droll observations from an American who spent 20 years in Britain, then decided to do one last tour around the country before returning stateside; occasionally very funny. I kind of would rather hear Bill Bryson read it rather than this British-accented chap, but it's alright.

[datrappert · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Very funny, full of profanities, but a bit out of date as a tourist guide, as Britain presumably has changed a bit in 25 years. Bryson is the perfect curmudgeon as he travels from South to North (inevitably leaving out Northern Ireland). This is a good insight into British mannerisms and manners of thought. It can also serve as a good guide to bad architecture. I hope the British are actually as nice and polite as he says they are, as my daughter is about to go to college there.

[kittycunningh-815148 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

This is too slow to read to myself. I seem to like Bryson better as audio books.

[sarah220-732610 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Bryson is a very good writer who paints vivid pictures of British landscapes and people and imbues the places he visits with charm and humor. This is a very close to a 4 out of 5 for me but even these spectacular description couldn't quite make up for the lack of plot. However, if you are looking for an incredibly engaging travel guide for England this is the book for you.

[seriousgrace · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

There is a definite pattern to Notes From a Small Island. Bryson travels across the British countryside in a haphazard way. Randomly taking trains, busses, ferries and even on foot, he wanders through towns checking into hotels and then checking out the sights all the while making comments as he goes. This book will make you release a stray snide giggle or two. You may even, heaven forbid, laugh or snort out loud. Honestly, at times you won't be able to help yourself. Bryson is snarky and silly; at times absolutely hilarious. If you smile even just a little at this, "It really ought to be called the nice Little Gardens Destroyed By This Shopping Centre" you know what I mean. I think in British terms they would have called Bryson cheeky and maybe even a little snobbish about his views of architecture, country cuisine, and Wordsworth, just to name a few. (Why he has such a problem with Wordsworth I'm not sure.) He does love the region although at times it is hard to tell. Eventually, the reader will start to realize Bryson's humor often comes at the expense of somewhere or someone. As an aside, people thought my ex-boyfriend was terribly funny until they realized he was just being terrible. Bryson is the same way.

[ken5me5old5mate · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I’d read this ages back but decided to give it another go.

A bit dated but his observations are still spot on. I really laughed at the bit about how Socialism was wasted on the Russians, the Englsih were already there with their endless queueing for shoddy goods and bland foods.

Ha Ha Brilliant.

[amaraki-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Hilarious notes from a walking tour of the British Isle by an ex-pat American. LOL. Would read another of his books.

[mahallett · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

very disorganized not very funny,

[mrslee_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A travel memoir about Bryson's farewell trip around England after having lived there for twenty years.I suppose this book has amusing moments, but they are interspersed by so much whining about travel inconveniences that I finally tired of the book and decided enough. I read over two hundred pages, but the complaining became so tedious that I couldn't finish. Perhaps the fact that I've never had the means or opportunity to do the things he could only complain about made me less than sympathetic?

[andycyca-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Bill Bryson travels across Britain and gives a nice mixture of comments on British culture, memories an remarks on architecture. Lots of architecture. The only reason why it gets 3/5 is that it's not (in my opinion) a "funny" book at all. Sure, Bryson gives some funny quips here and there but they are far and few in between. If you're looking for "British humor" go immediately for Douglas Adams. The saving grace of this book is the dual vision of a foreigner who has lived in the country for a while, so you get both the sense of wonder from something new and the explanations of a veteran who knows what he's talking about. 3.5/5

[breic-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Bryson is a great solo traveler. He loves Britain, but also loves finding humor in it. The problem is that you have to emphasize "solo." He not only travels alone, but hardly talks to anybody along the way. So you get descriptions of the scenery (which eventually grow tiresome), and cheap humor from observing others at a distance, but hardly ever any more interesting interactions. (There are a few.) He himself seems to recognize this issue: > I spent a little time watching the scenery, then pulled out my copy of Kingdom by the Sea to see if Paul Theroux had said anything about the vicinity that I might steal or modify to my own purposes. As always, I was amazed to find that as he rattled along these very tracks he was immersed in a lively conversation with his fellow passengers. How does he do it? Quite apart from the consideration that my carriage was nearly empty, I don't know how you strike up conversations with strangers in Britain. In America, of course, it's easy. You just offer a hand and say, 'My name's Bryson. How much money did you make last year?' and the conversation never looks back from there. But in England - or in this instance Wales - it's so hard, or at least it is for me. I've never had a train conversation that wasn't disastrous or at least regretted. … Over a long period of time it gradually dawned on me that the sort of person who will talk to you on a train is almost by definition the sort of person you don't want to talk to on a train, so these days I mostly keep to myself and rely for conversational entertainment on books by more loquacious types like Jan Morris and Paul Theroux.Still, lots of funny bits. > … One of these functionaries wandered into a room on the fourth floor full of people who hadn't done anything in years and, when they proved unable to account convincingly for themselves, sacked them at a stroke, except for one fortunate fellow who had popped out to the betting shop. When he returned, it was to an empty room and he spent the next two years sitting alone wondering vaguely what had become of his colleagues.> In French markets you pick among wicker baskets of glossy olives and cherries and little wheels of goat's cheese, all neatly arrayed. In Britain you buy tea towels and ironing-board covers from plastic beer crates.> Impressive as Stonehenge is, there comes a moment somewhere about eleven minutes after your arrival when you realize you've seen pretty well as much as you care to, and you spend another forty minutes walking around the perimeter rope looking at it out of a combination of politeness, embarrassment at being the first from your bus to leave and a keen desire to extract £2.80 worth of exposure from the experience.> I passed through grassy fields, through flocks of skittish sheep, over stiles and through gates, without any sign of my goal drawing nearer, but I doggedly pressed on because - well, because if you are stupid you do.> Then when you board the train you must additionally ask the carriage generally, 'Excuse me, is this the Barnstaple train?' to which most people will say that they think it is, except for one man with a lot of parcels who will get a panicked look and hurriedly gather up his things and get off. You should always take his seat since you will generally find that he has left behind a folded newspaper and an uneaten bar of chocolate, and possibly a nice pair of sheepskin gloves.> I noted three driveways with signs saying 'No Turning'. Now tell me, just how petty do you have to be, how ludicrously possessive of your little piece of turf, to put up a sign like that? What harm can there possibly be in some lost or misdirected person turning a car round in the edge of your driveway? I always make a point of turning round in such driveways, whether I need to or not, and I urge you to join me in this practice. It is always a good idea to toot your horn two or three times to make sure that the owner sees you.> I hooked my rucksack over a shoulder and set off along a road that I hoped might be the right one - and no doubt would have been had I taken another.> I watched the rain beat down on the road outside and told myself that one day this would be twenty years ago.> I unfolded some jumpers so that they would have something to do after I left> I spent a long, happy afternoon wandering through the many rooms, pretending, as I sometimes do in these circumstances, that I had been invited to take any one object home with me as a gift from the Scottish people in recognition of my fineness as a person. In the end, after much agonizing, I settled on a Head of Persephone from fifth-century-BC Sicily, which was not only as stunningly flawless as if it had been made yesterday, but would have looked just perfect on top of the TV.

[aliceap-1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson chronicles the walking expedition that the author took across Great Britain right before he moved back to the United States. I loved how his enjoyment of the countryside (particularly Yorkshire) came through in his beautiful descriptions. If he had only stuck to his descriptions of the idyllic countryside and the interesting monuments and things that he saw there I would have enjoyed this book. Instead he interjected his beliefs/prejudices/stereotypes about different groups of people and it really turned me off of the entire book. The first note that I wrote after reading this was simply "I don't like Bill Bryson."What he poked fun of (a shortlist):fat people (fat shaming a family at a restaurant and staring so much they moved tables)Asperger's (a trainspotter widower he met was too excited about trains apparently)Lewis Carroll (described him as a "poor perverted mathematician" when pedophilia was only rumored never proven)Parkinson's (need I say more?)The only good things that came out of this is that I'll probably visit Warwick Castle and Snowshill Manor in the future...and I'll never read anything else from Bill Bryson.For another viewpoint, check out the critique of A Walk in the Woods by Mary Jean Ronan Herzog entitled "Including Appalachian Stereotypes in Multicultural Education: An Analysis of Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods" in the Journal of Appalachian Studies Vol. 5 Issue 1.

[abvr_2 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

My third try at reading something by Bill Bryson and -- like the last two -- I was unable to get more than about 50 pages into it before losing interest. He thus joins Kim Stanley Robinson and a select few others on my list of "authors who, despite their obvious talent and enormous popularity, do nothing for me."Bryson's signature travel-writing style strikes me as a blend of three things: 1) A "game-but-hapless schlub" persona that may be the real Bryson or may be a put-on; 2) Elaborate, almost Dickensian descriptions of colorful characters and settings he encounters along the way; 3) Comic exaggeration that starts where Mark Twain went in his more unbuttoned moments and winds up somewhere on the far side of Dave "I am not making this up" Barry . . . and that, I think, is why I find his work off-putting.Game-but-hapless schlubs and cringe comedy (in which Bryson often traffics here) are, for me, anti-entertaining. Dickens-style baroque characters with improbable names are marvelous if done well, but (again, for me) they only work if the author, and all the characters around them them, treat them as essentially normal . . . but Bryson-the-author always feels like he's waving and pointing from the margins, saying: "Look! A caricature!" I'm always up for a well-done example of the comedy of overstatement -- Twain's "Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses" remains the funniest thing I've ever read -- but outside of a novel it is (last time: for me) virtually impossible to carry off at book length. What's funny in a 1,000-word column or 3,000-word article goes flat in a 100,000 memoir.If you've never read Bill Bryson, don't let this put you off. Millions of people love his books, and--statistically speaking--your literary tastes are more likely to align with theirs than mine. If, however, you've tried reading him and can't figure out why he leaves you cold . . . maybe this is why.

[debs4jc · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Bryson relates tales of his travels across Britain, making witty and self-depreciating comments along the way. At times it made me laugh and I wanted to share his wit with others. After a while it started to get a bit repetitive. So a book of ups and downs for me but I appreciated most of all the look at another culture from a fellow American's point of view. I'd recommend this most to people who are really interested in British culture and landscapes.

[chazzifrazz · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I picked this up as I had enjoyed Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods". I was not disappointed.Bryson is taking one last tour of England and parts of before he moves back to the U.S. with his family. The move is so that the kids will get to know their roots...I think.It is a solo tour to visit places he has been and some he hasn't but wanted to go. He uses the British Rail and walking as his choice of transportation. It isn't just the big cities he visits, but it is the small villages too. His commentary and musings of all things British (and Scottish) are entertaining and sometimes thought provoking. Why do the British call private schools public schools? Why is it called a 'jumper' in England and a 'sweater' in America? The politeness of the English by the way they preface requests with "I'm sorry..." and other observations. Many are tongue-in-cheek, and all seem in a humourous vein.His view and descriptions of his travels are from a person who really does love a country that he lived and worked in for a good length of time. Not derogatory but curious.I enjoy his style of writing and observations. A light-hearted read.

[miaculpa-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

To my mind, Bryson is the premier travel writer around today, and “Notes From a Small Island” is perhaps the best example of his travelogues. As an American in the UK who married a local and settled down, Bryson is able to spot the absurdities of British life like no one else. Following Bryson around his then-current journey around the UK, intermixed with flashbacks of his earlier travels around the UK, Bryson seems to be having the trip that I really should have had, were the situation different. Whether he’s negotiating the weird rules surrounding guest houses, his career as a staffer in a psychiatric hospital or the incomprehensible accents of Glasgow, Bryson is always worth a laugh.

[cbl_tn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A couple of decades after first setting foot in Great Britain and preparing to move his family to the U.S., Bill Bryson spent several weeks traveling from one end of the island to the other. Some places on his itinerary were familiar and dear, while he hadn't set foot in others since his arrival some twenty years earlier. First impressions and other memories intermingle with the contemporary travel narrative. Bryson's affection for his adopted country is apparent. The humor is as much at his own expense as at the expense of others. I felt a particular kinship with Bryson as another American who made a home in Great Britain as a young adult. Both natives of Great Britain and Anglophiles will find a lot to like here.

[cheryl_in_cc_nv · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Bryson's books are really all about Bryson. In this book he'd spout one stereotype about the British people in one chapter, and in the next chapter he'd say Brits are so xxx" and the 'xxx' would be in direct contradiction to the previous assertion. Every time I laughed I felt guilty for doing so."

[jaysbooks · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A little dull in places but in the end entertaining--with lots of humorous comments

[tjblue · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I usually like Bryson's books, but I didn't much care for this one. Usually his rambling is funny. Not this time,it was just boring rambling.

[quibee · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An interesting look at Britain by someone about to move back to the States.

A lighter tone sometimes in the reading of this book would have suited it better. Sometimes the author sounds rather petulant

[bell7_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Before moving to America with his wife and kids, Bill Bryson decides to take a trip around England and see the countryside much as he did in the '70s when he first arrived. From Dover to Inverness, he explores small towns, enjoys their history and quirks, and bemoans the lack of imagination of 1960s architects.Chronologically this comes just before a book I read late last year, I'm a Stranger Here Myself. It was a little bit odd to have read them "out of order" (I'm a Stranger Here Myself talks about the quirks of living in America after 20 years of being in the U.K., while this is sort of his swan song before leaving), but it was fun to compare the way he mulls over quirky bits of culture and a country's personality, so to speak. It's part travel literature part memoir part humor in a way that I've only ever read in Bill Bryson's own books. I really enjoyed it, I really want to go a few of the places he mentioned now, and I'm really looking forward to his latest, The Road to Little Dribbling.

[sscarllet-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is one of my all time favorites. I received this book as a gift after finishing an internship in London (I'm American) about 12 years ago. Over the years I've read it several times but now that I've been a full time UK resident for 4 years it has even more meaning to me.

Bryson doesn't just travel, he gives an articulated insight into the British people in general. His love for the UK and its inhabitants is clear throughout.

In fact, I was so inspired by this book that I got my London based self to Snowshill Manor, mentioned in his book. It couldn't have been better!

Please read this book - you can borrow my copy, just be sure to give it back!