Sunburns, Endless Drives, and Creatures That’ll Eat You Alive: A Review of Bill Bryson’s In A Sunburned Country

If you’re familiar with Bill Bryson’s other books, such as A Walk in the Woods or Notes From a Small Island, you’ll know that he writes about journeys—plane, train, and automobile trips, yes, but also the sheer magic of finding oneself in a place that is wildly unfamiliar with traces of familiarity. Australia certainly fits the bill for a remote location that nevertheless contains echoes of home and belonging for many travelers who go there. Given Bryson’s wonderful wit and self-deprecating (but not self-hating) humor, I was excited to revisit this corner of the world through his eyes. I had the privilege of visiting Australia’s Eastern Coast (Brisbane and Cairns) as well as the Outback before starting college, but given that I forgot to keep a journal, many of my experiences have slipped away into the inaccessible past. I wondered: could Bryson help revive these memories?

As a matter of fact, Bryson didn’t just revive my memories—he gave various parts of Australia, both areas I’ve visited and areas I haven’t, a delightful spin. There’s something special about reading travel tales through someone who freely admits his blunders, reminding us all that part of the thrill and challenge of experiencing a new place is grappling with one’s imperfections. As he hops from city to city and braves long drives through Australia’s pockets of virtually empty land, Bryson finds himself in all kinds of predicaments. He nearly breaks down in the desert while heading to Alice Springs with his British pal. He receives nothing more than a massive sunburn as a result of his suburban stroll through Adelaide. Even better, he gets roaringly drunk in Canberra out of sheer boredom. I won’t spoil any additional anecdotes, but I will say that driving, wandering, and train-riding through Australia with the bumbling, yet charismatic Bryson makes Australia feel all the more endearing. Bryson hasn’t necessarily set out to make his Australia trip wholly applicable to all other travelers’ experiences—this is an account of his personal travels, after all—but in his errors and moments of awkwardness, I was reminded that traveling teaches you as much about yourself as it does about the place you’re traveling to. That is certainly universal.

There are also plenty of awe-inspiring moments in Bryson’s narrative. He approaches Australia’s sheer vastness with a childlike sense of wonder at many points. I particularly enjoyed his countryside drives, which evoked memories of his Iowa hometown and gave him a taste of 1950s. We are reminded that Australia is impressively removed from the rest of the world, sometimes decades removed in its rural areas, yet it also brims with charming, charismatic people and the most captivating biodiversity on earth. If nothing else, you’ll probably find yourself enthralled by the number of poisonous plants and animals in Australia, which Bryson takes great care to describe. He’s no scientist, but he sure did his research on the flora and fauna!

If there was any area of this book I found to be lacking, it would be the history Bryson highlights. He covers explorer after explorer, making the point that Australia’s tough terrain has been notoriously unkind to travelers of the past, but all of these explorers feel quite similar in personality and demographic. I would have liked to see less emphasis on these failed expeditions considering that Bryson could have described just one or two of them to make his point. While Bryson does attempt to capture the uglier parts of Australia’s history—namely, treatment of the Aborigines, whom he refers to as Australia’s “great social failing”—I found myself disappointed that he does not highlight their cultural achievements, including their gorgeous artwork and their superb desert navigation skills. There was certainly room in Bryson’s account for this type of learning and engagement to take place, but Bryson’s humorous writing style isn’t always ripe for accommodating subjects which deserve attentiveness, seriousness, and respect.

Still, if you’re picking up this book for an escape—and who isn’t looking for an escape nowadays?—Bryson’s daring, outlandish, and occasionally drunken explorations of this often-forgotten continent will serve you well. Bryson may be a master of the insults and cynicism (note his commentary on Australia’s beloved sport, cricket), but he also regards this place with delight and appreciation. Each time he pauses to marvel at what a “wonderful country” Australia is, you’ll feel his excitement…regardless of where you are in the world.