“Turn Right at Machu Picchu: Rediscovering the Lost City One Step at a Time,” by Mark Adams

This fascinating and entertaining book is one part travelogue, one part Peruvian and Incan history, and one part biography of Hiram Bingham III, the first Western explorer to “discover” the ancient mountain city of Machu Picchu.  Adams travels the same paths that Bingham did 100 years earlier, on foot, and tells his story with a lot of insight and a healthy dose of humor; and his genuine passion for the subject matter, combined with his first-hand experience of the amazing terrain of the Andes, makes for a compelling and exciting read.  So much so that I did something while reading this book that I very rarely do.  I dragged it out.  I forced myself to stop at the end of the chapter, meting out smaller portions of the book than I’d really have liked to, because part of me wanted to stay up there in the Andes Mountains, surrounded by those amazing stone ruins and an equally amazing landscape for just a little while longer.  I really didn’t want the experience to end.

Adams’ talent for describing the breathtaking scenery is worth the read all by itself.  The sights, sounds and smells of the mountains, deserts, rivers, animals and jungle, to say nothing of the descriptions of the artifacts, architecture and truly mind-boggling engineering of the city of Machu Picchu itself are simply fantastic.  I literally found myself stopping, closing my eyes, and envisioning the majestic vistas, inhaling the wild sage, rosemary and other intoxicating aromas of the forests, and hearing the birds, the rushing water and the cadence of the languages of the native peoples.  There aren’t a lot of people who can make even such a singularly remarkable place come to full color, 3D life via the written word alone, but Adams is one who can.  As I read, I lamented the lack of glossy, panoramic photographs, but only for a few short chapters.  They actually might have detracted from the words, and I decided that they made the right decision by not trying to turn the work into a picture book. 

But these sensual scenes and the long, difficult and dangerous journey to the top of the highest mountain in the range, to the marvel of engineering and architecture that Machu Picchu is, are only part of the story.  There are Incan kings, princesses and warriors, Spanish conquistadors and missionaries, and engrossing tales of their clashes and the inevitable downfall of one whole, enormously advanced civilization at the hands of another.  There are also daring raids, jealous rivalries, and heartbreaking deceptions and cruelties that abound right through the time of Bingham’s expeditions of the early 20^th century that ultimately come face to face with the changing political climates of our own contemporary world.   Indeed, just a few days after finishing this book I noticed a news stories about the Peabody Museum’s decision to finally return most of the artifacts that Bingham himself had brought back to Harvard after his several expeditions to Peru. 

Adams has managed to infect me with his enthusiasm and I’m already half-way through another book about the Andes, although I’m finding the new book not nearly as exciting and readable as “Turn Right…” is.  I may just have to go back and read it again.

"The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World," by Eric Weiner

This was an interesting read. I'm quite guilty myself of thinking in terms of "If I just lived in _______ I'd be happier," so I was pretty excited to discover that this book more or less endorses the idea that the society you live in can indeed make you either happy or miserable. So now that I've given the gist of his findings away, let me backtrack...

Weiner spent years as an NPR foreign correspondent, and had already traveled to some of the most miserable, war-torn and disease-ravaged areas on the planet. So he quickly clarifies that his new investigation will eliminate places under such obvious duress that happiness would not really be possible. If a country has been decimated by civil war for the past 20 years, it's pretty safe to say that the people of that country are going to score pretty low on the "rate your happiness from one to ten" test. So he focuses on countries that are not currently fighting wars on their own soil, and which are not facing devastating droughts, famine or disease.

Weiner looks at the stats, creates his list, and prepares to spend one year traveling the world to visit the happiest places (Iceland, The Netherlands, and Bhutan) and unhappiest places (Moldova and Qatar) on the planet. Before he dives into his official trip, however, he visits Rotterdam's World Database of Happiness, hoping to get some better idea of how to measure happiness. He talks to researchers who have spent years trying to determine the nature of happiness, the value of happiness, and how a largely undefinable abstract can be quantified in any meaningful way. They turn out to be surprisingly incapable of shedding any light on the subject, and he leaves feeling rather unsure of how this experiment might turn out.

In the course of his travels, Weiner spends time meditating at an Indian ashram, smoking hash in Amsterdam, and interviews wise men and women in Europe, Asia, and the good ole US of A, and he shares some eye-opening discoveries with his readers, such as:

*In order to have a happy society you don't necessarily need wealth or
democracy. They have neither in Bhutan, which rates highly in happiness terms,
but they have both in Qatar, where people seem relatively miserable.

*In all happy societies, trust in one's fellow citizens and government, and a
reverence for the society's culture are hugely important.

Along the way we learn about Weiner's own struggles with depression and pessimism and ultimately he weaves an interesting tale that's not so deep that it turns into an existential exercise, nor so shallow that it can be easily skimmed. If you've ever wondered what makes a place, a mere location, happy or miserable (or if you've ever wondered if happiness can be created or transplanted), this is a worthwhile and satisfying read.