This quote rings true, as we often tend to forget about all the frustrations and loneliness of solo travel, after the fact.
More so in Paul Theroux's epic four month journey in 1975 by train through Europe, the Middle Easy, India, Asia and back through Russia. I can't even begin to fathom the amount of patience and strength it takes to embark on such a trip; especially during the mid-seventies. Theroux, extremely observant in his surroundings and those he encounters on a day to day basis, make this book. Some of the people he meets along the way you can't make up if you tried.
For me, this book has painted a picture of a world that I never knew existed.
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