Back of Beyond (52 page)

Scores—actually hundreds—of individuals showed kindness, encouragement and support during my travels and many others contributed to the completion of this book. In particular I would like to thank:

All my guides:
Angelo, Tin and Pan, Khun, M’stafa, San
and many more who helped me through all the difficult times.

Ali, Abdulali, Ahmed, Fatima, Rahman, Saiid
and all my other companions on that memorable if ill-fated Saharan journey.

Amanda and Joel
who gave willingly of their time, energy, and love in Kathmandu.

Dick Anderson,
President of Lands’ End, who provided so much early support and enthusiasm for this project.

Antonio,
the little boy in Costa Rica who nursed me back to sweet sanity with bananas, papayas, and Coca-Cola.

Audrey and Lisa
whose constant cries of “what’s next?” helped me leave the comforts of home in search of even wilder places.

Monica Beliveau-Tobey
for all her affection and encouragement (and excellent copy-editing) throughout this long project.

The
Bog-Trotters
of the Pennine Way who taught me to tip-toe the tussocks with the best of them.

Breda
from Eire whose bus-bound company for two long days in India made the journey delightfully tolerable.

Marion Campbell
of Harris, Scotland, for her explanations of the art of tweed-weaving (and for my enduring yellow finger).

Larry Campbell
for insisting I see the wonders of Costa Rica for myself.

Tom Cronin
with WGBH of Boston, who gave me the opportunity to ramble on about Haiti and my travels for one of his many TV documentaries.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
for the pleasures of his book “The Lost World” and for the dreams he made me dream (and
Charles Arkwright Gurnley
for making the dreams reality).

Dick Davies
, the Welshman, who learnt his lessons of life through white-water adventures-and passed them on to me.

Dimitrios
on Kea island, Greece, for teaching me the true spirit of island life and releasing my Zorba.

John Dixon
of Northumberland, who showed me the secrets of the local sheepdog.

Ed Duffy.
“King of Cashmere” and raconteur extraordinaire who made the whole Inner Mongolian journey possible (and
Yves and Barney,
our stoic companions).

Joe Foley Sr.,
Lisa Salerno and all the others for transferring a tattered manuscript into perfect galleys.

Annie Griffiths,
the National Geographic photographer who made the Pennine Way adventure much more meaningful.

Stephanie Gunning
of HarperCollins who, with gentleness and grace, made the deadlines bearable.

The
Haitian houngan and mamma
who allowed me to sit (and dance) through a night of voodoo, deep in the mountains.

Linda Halsey,
of the Washington Post who has been a trusted source of support and encouragement throughout, along with
Renee and Casey.

George Harrington,
who taught me how not to wrestle, Cumberland-style.

Kirk Horton,
in Bangkok, for his hospitality and his tolerance at my over-use of his jeep.

Doug Inkster,
who took me on an odyssey of flight and helped me discover the wildest places of all.

The Jain sadhu
in Bombay who explained so much in a single afternoon.

Aubelin Jolicoeur
(alias Graham Greene’s Petit Pierre) for his perceptions and perspicacity in Haiti.

Julio and his father Thomas
for making the few months Anne and I spent on Gran Canaria one of the best times of our lives.

Mike Kaye
who welcomed me as a guest to his Tortuga Lodge and
George,
my intrepid guide and fighter of turtle-thieves.

Khusrow
in Tehran for guiding me during difficult times and to my friends in Rasht on the Caspian Sea who have all suffered so much in the recent earthquake.

The Maharaj of Jodhpur
who entertained me regally during my stay in his city.

The Maharao of Bhuj
who gave me new insights about western living.

Hector Macleod
in Ullapool, Scotland, for encouraging me to explore the Outer Hebrides.

Mary MacDonald
of Harris for her tales, tea, and homebaked shortbread.

Lea Macnally
for his guile and guidance in the wilds of Torridon.

Charles McCarry
of the National Geographic Magazine for his trust in me and his enthuiasm for the Pennine Way story.

Mike,
the Australian, for a long night of learning on Hong Kong’s Lantau island.

Richard Morse,
owner of Haiti’s Grand Hotel Oloffson, for many valuable insights of island life.

My
Mongolian hosts
who let me see the fullness of their lives in that great grassland emptiness.

To my late
Mother
who joined me in Torridon and made the whole journey magic.

Sue Noli
of HarperCollins for the fun she had with the book jacket design.

The
officials
of Indian railroads and “special permit” officers who tolerated a true TET in their midst.

The nameless
Pineys
who helped me home safely from the depths of the New Jersey Pine Barrens.

Guillermo Santamaria
for his tales of Costa Rica on a hot afternoon in San José.

Maria-Jao Santos
and her two lovely daughters for making my brief stay in the Azores so memorable.

Al Shackelford
of Lands’ End for his careful editing of my “Time Out” pieces, and his humor (and his Morris Minor).

Tom Stephenson
and the British Ramblers Association for helping make the Pennine Way and all those other long distance footpaths a reality.

The little saintly
tanka-painter
in Kathmandu with whom I should have spent much more time.

Mike Ventura,
a fine photographer, who always gave much-needed encouragement during the dog-days.

And special thanks to:

Hugh Van Dusen,
my HarperCollins editor and friend, who often wondered if this feckless wanderer would ever return from his wanderings to tell the tales (and when he did, entertained him royally in the house by the pond).

And finally-to my wife-
Anne

(once again) for everything.