This was the first non-digital (can we say analog?) book that I've read in a long time. It came recommended by a poetry workshop professor after they read my piece "Ten Years in Tokyo", a muddling little thing that struggles to bookend my decade in Japan. Connelly's book has a strong poetic voice, and there were several beautiful images.
I read the book on the toilet, as that's been my habit of late: rather than bringing the phone I make this weak attempt to better use the time. 200 pages in about two weeks. The chapters were short and breezy, and in the end I gained a real appreciation for someone brave enough to throw themselves into the wilds of Asia at a young and impressionable age. The reading made me glad I spent my time in Tokyo, though. The countryside of Thailand sounds like rather hard going for someone addicted to the creature comforts of highly developed cities.