Turn Right at Machu Picchu by Mark Adams

Some are intent on traveling the world. And some are not.

But thanks goes to those who are, for they pave a path of enlightenment, education, spirituality, and desire for the rest of us to gaze at, admire, and add to our Bucket List. While exploration is not a new phenomenon - the greatest discoveries have been made simply from the desire to see what lies beyond the horizon - the means and ways of world travel has dramatically evolved. These days, even the most remote forests, desolate mountain ranges, and raging rivers will find what Mark Adams' travel companion in Turn Right at Machu Picchu referred to as "Martini Explorers" - those looking to see the world but still have a warm bed and even warmer meal to return to. In Machu Picchu, Adams falls somewhere in between - lacking the intensity and adventure (and stupidity) of Theodore Roosevelt and his River of Doubt while still suffering the worn shoes, blisters, interesting cuisine, camping, and life-or-death uncertainty of any serious trip into the wilderness. And while the world would have me believe that I'm wasting my life by not scrambling to see all of the Seven Wonders of the World, I'm perfectly happy to let people like Adams, Roosevelt, and Strayed (Wild) do the humping and provide me with exquisite imagery and history, both of which Adams did not skimp on.

With discovery comes more questions, a problem that seemed to be the central theme of Turn Right at Machu Picchu. Adams' original intent was to retrace the steps of 1911's Hiram Bingham, III, suddenly widely discredited for discovering the ancient ruins, then accused of grave-robbing them as well as the area's surrounding ruins. While attempting to clear up Bingham's story, Adams instead encountered an atmosphere much like if he were to ask an American about the upcoming election - everyone has an opinion and their own theory. Adams peppers Peruvian history appropriately throughout his story, though it can get bit meaty and tough for the reader to digest.

Written like one of the more sophisticated blogs of present-day, with several laugh-out-loud moments, Turn Right at Machu Picchu is more an account of Adams taking a history lesson than a raucous journey of exploration, routinely skipping over large chunks of time presumably because nothing particularly noteworthy happened. Only him and his Editor will ever know... And while Adams does an admirable job of detailing his surroundings at any given moment, he struggles to articulate the vast beauty and enormity of his experience, which the reader can either find frustrating or titillating. And although nothing about this book is edge-of-your-seat excitement like that of Frozen In Time or Lost in Shangri-La, the cultural and historical significance of this part of the world is not lost, but rather put on display, as Adams made the Inca Trail sound like the line for Disneyland's Splash Mountain.

This book's main takeaway is the awe-inspiring history of the Incas and how they unknowingly ended up impacting the rest of the world with unrelenting beauty, seemingly ingenious engineering, and the marriage of the two, something Adams described impeccably and seemed to put the most focus on. If nothing else, he definitely lights the fire under the ass of even the most reticent modern-day explorer.

Turn Right at Machu Picchu satisfied a square on my all-important Reading Bingo chart, thus solidifying my Couch Explorer status. But if they ever do bring martinis on explorations and possible discoveries, my travel-ass might just end up being lit. Until then, happy hiking! I can't wait to read about it when you're done...

The Burning Air by Erin Kelly

Every once in awhile I find myself in the mood for a good mind fuck. Usually when I'm in a particularly dark mood, I find myself gravitating towards books of a similar theme, like when I picked up Gillian Flynn's Dark Places. Although I felt the pull of that in the dead of January, I found myself craving a Gone Girl-esque book in the dead of summer so I picked up Erin Kelly's The Burning Air, a book I took a chance on because it was on the Dollar Tree bookshelf so I couldn't justify *not* buying it. After reading the inside flap and the goodreads.com synopsis, my expectations were fairly low and I thought I had it all figured out, not at all prepared for Kelly to take me on the literary ride of my life.

Kelly's The Burning Air is in a word, brilliant. Having read Gone Girl, the epitome of psychological thriller, and having polished off last summer's literary pop culture hit, and soon-to-be-movie-produced-by-Reese-Witherspoon, The Girl on the Train, I naively had little hope that another author would be able to weave such an intricate, creepy, and dark tale about the lengths we go to for family. But I am now willing to start my own campaign to add this to Reese's long list of projects. Or at least make it a Lifetime movie.

Split into four points of view, Kelly subjects the reader to movie-like, heart-pumping, surprise scenes - like a white face reflected through a black window - from the get-go. Banking on the already large creep-factor of being set in a BFE London barn, readers start out on the edge of their seats and have little elsewhere to go until they take a break from reading to let their hearts begin to still. With any large family, secrets are what rule the MacBrides, who are coming together to spread the ashes of their matriarch. Of course, things go less than smoothly and what are originally perceived to be horrible coincidences are revealed as dark, vengeful spirits working like puppet masters behind the scenes.

Written clearly and concisely, with fluid details that are rarely confusing, Kelly creates a haunting and sinister world that gives us goosebumps and makes our blood run cold, but manages to steer clear of horrifically gruesomely, unnecessary violence. The Burning Air enters Kelly into the foray of stiff competition among Stephen King and other Masters of the Plot Twist, gently manipulating readers' brains and down-right tricking them, then offering one last surprise on the second-to-final page.

While Far Barn is definitely not a place I'd like to visit - nor the MacBrides a family I'd like to befriend - this Couch Explorer will definitely visit another dark world created by Erin Kelly.