"The only thing this book can do, if you read very closely and critically, is teach someone how not to travel." When you're neurotic and lack spatial reasoning (like me!), hopping on a plane can be a recipe for disaster. "This book isn't going to teach anyone how to travel," DeRuiter explains. All Over the Place: Adventures in Travel, True Love, and Petty Theft isn't exactly travel advice. Instead of worrying about my travel problems, I had DeRuiter's to enjoy: the time she and her husband faced off with Air France after missing a flight to Paris, or when she hiked for hours through an Italian wilderness with a fever, or how she severely clogged an eco-friendly hotel toilet. Or at the very least, it offered enough schadenfreude to prevent me from turning into one of those furious toddlers. Like a balm in Gilead, however, Geraldine DeRuiter's travel memoir All Over the Place (PublicAffairs, $26) held my anxiety at bay. The delay jeopardized the dinner reservation we made at Bouche for our anniversary and, worst-case scenario, threatened to tank our entire getaway. The sound of weeping and gnashing teeth rose throughout the terminal. Others compulsively checked their phones. Their parents repeatedly volunteered toys as peace offerings. To be more specific, we were hunkered in an un-air conditioned corner of Sea-Tac airport with about a hundred other people after our plane was delayed due to the smog from wildfires burning in British Columbia. Actually, my boyfriend and I were waiting to board. Several weeks ago, I was boarding a flight to San Francisco.
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