The travails, tribulations and joys of a trucker as he traverses distances that are far flung makes for some fantastic reading. Ivor Whittall mixed wit with contemplation in a manner that is judicious and exquisite. An experienced trucker, Mr. Whittall describes some hair raising journeys and spine chilling escapades experienced by him as he navigates his mammoth truck across benevolent and bewildering paths. All of this he does with panache, poise and patience.

The Silk Road and Beyond I identified as an interesting book to read if a person aims to gain informative but easy read material. I experienced the book as an excellent work presentable to all reader types. It presents significant insight into different regions from Turkey, Kuwait, Germany, Austria and others that kept my interest all the way. I definitely enjoyed the book as a person who appreciates history, travels and loves meeting diverse cultures. The photographs presented in the book allows the reader to experience the travel route described by trucker Ivor Whittall. Whittall successfully keeps the reader's attention not only by his excellent writing style but also by his travel descriptions and experiences. I enjoyed reading about the complications at customs, the language barriers and the embarrassments one generally experience while travelling. I love this book and will definitely recommend a copy to all readers interested in history, travel, places and people. I give the Silk Road and Beyond a number 5 out of 5 for it's well-presented and informative reading material.

The Silk Road and Beyond by Ivor Whittal
Revised and Edited by Paul Rowlands

The hair-raising true adventures of a long-distance trucker in the Middle East


Having lived more years in the Middle East than in the USA and having traveled on the roads of more than one of those mentioned in this book I was curious to read the story of one of the men driving the long-haul trucks I have frequently seen carrying heavy freight from one destination to another. Our household goods from the USA were shipped by ocean and se to Jordan then a year later taken from Jordan to Saudi Arabia only to be taken once again from Saudi to Lebanon. Driving a truck as a profession may have been romanticized in movies but from what I have seen and heard it requires skill, patience, tenacity and an ability to drive for hours. Crossing boarders, which I have also down, requires another skill set entirely. Whether it is money or bread or cigarettes or something else that might smooth the transition through a checkpoint or across a border...a skilled driver will come prepared.

I thoroughly enjoyed this look into Ivor’s life. His first trip out as a novice was intriguing and told of those who help out and just as he was helped in the beginning Ivor then often paid it forward when he saw someone he could help. Sometimes his assistance was accepted and he received a thank you while other times...well...I wanted to kick those he helped in the patoot for being so mean-minded and egocentric.

Thank you to NetGalley and Fox Chapel Publishing – Old Pond Books for the ARC – this is my honest review.

5 Stars

I found this book interesting, as I've had a connection to the transportation sector all my life. For others, the book is a very hands-on history lesson, especially for those who has grown up without mobile phones.

The first few chapters are uneventful but necessary to trace how the author began his adventure as a driver in the Middle East. several decades ago. Reading about Whitall's adventures you are witness to a world that is now gone, set in a different geopolitical system. The documents he scans such as the form that allows transport in Western Germany, the description of the easy route through a united Yugoslavia and of the tight controls in the closed socialist Romania, with its designated TIR routes "presumably because the authorities didnot want you to wander willy-nilly around the country meeting up with the local population' are a witness to such change. The anecdotes make this book a fascinating read about the way in which politics shapes the day to day life of eastern europe during the communist dictatorship.

I am not sure where my interest in this kind of thing originated, but the reality of how things and people get to other places has always fascinated me. The stories in the book make me never want to drive anyplace without a big freeway and lots of traffic laws again. Terrifying, Nonetheless these road gladiators tackle problems that would make the rest of us blanche.

The combination of trucks, roads or what is called a road, the rules, language barriers, paperwork makes what these guys do a really amazing series of feats.

Nice perspective it is hard to find anywhere else.

Thanks for the advance galley to NG.

In the mid to late 1970s, long distance trucking from England to Kuwait via eastern Europe and Turkey was vastly different from 2019. This memoir is one man's experiences both good and bad during the Cold War until the fall of the Shah and rise of the Taliban. He tells of the hazards of driving in steep mountains with a big rig as well as the problems peculiar to driving in the desert. It's also an insightful travelog of the people who lived along the route at that time and some of the interesting foods he came to appreciate. A fascinating read, especially since I can't even drive a standard transmission let alone a big lorry!
I requested and received a free ebook copy from Fox Chapel Publishing and Old Pond Books via NetGalley. Thank you!

For what ever reason Ivor Whittal decided to write this book now, forty years after it happened. He originally was a 'long haul' driver, mostly in Great Britain, with some deliveries in Western Europe. His life changes the day he decides to take a job to drive a trailer to Tehran, Iran (under the Shah) by way of Eastern Europe (under Communist governments) and Turkey. Later he will drive to Saudi Arabia and Kuwait.

If your a student of on the ground sociology, this is a great read about the situation in the Middle East during the 1970s. With multiple border checks during this era, travel could be much harder then it was later under the Schengen Area of the European Union. Learning the papers that were do at each border was an education in itself since Ivor only spoke and read English. Think of trying to fill out a form in Serbian that is written in Cyrillic Alphabet.

Crossing from Austria, into Yugoslavia wasn't as difficult as you would think because it was only one border to Romania and Bulgaria, while today you go through four counties not-part of the EU.
I happened to have crossed these borders myself in the 1970s and can say that in many ways it was like being in a Marx (Groucho not Karl) Brothers movie. He tells of having to get to know which helpers (those who knew who to bribe) could fill out papers and get him through the border in the shortest period of time.

His descriptions of the roads and the road surfaces is something you have to read to believe as some are nothing but dirt or desert sand with marking (sometimes) on the side of the road. In winter going over the Turkish mountains to get to Iran or down to Kuwait, was like driving up a rutted road of ice and mush, and worse on the way down. Falling off a road could be the least of your worries as the locals buses where called Kamikazies because of the way they passed trucks on hairpin turns. Seeing Turkish trucks down at the bottom of a hill was an everyday occurrence.

[As an aside, my story of crossing the border is funnier than his. I came down through Graz which is south of Vienna, driving a car that wouldn't have been allowed on the roads anywhere in Western Europe. Though a third generation American, I have a very Eastern European name (my full name is Stefan Zebulon Kantrowitz) which could be a problem in those days. You had to keep a hand on your passport at all times so it wasn't stolen and used in my case to smuggle someone out of Poland or Russia. I was stopped by the border guards, Sentiljv on the way to Maribor. This is a quiet crossing, along a scenic route (meaning it was a lane-and-a-half) through to Banja Lucha in Bosnia. The guard didn't speak English,French or German, so I was completely at a lost as to what the problem was, once in you couldn't just turn around and leave.

I found someone from Germany who spoke decent French and with my French and German we were able to find out what was going on. The Guard demanded that I must have a Polish/Russian exit visa. Back then you needed a Visa to get out of the nations behind the Iron Curtain. After many hours and aggravation, they sent for a "Boss" who arrived in a column of cars and armored personnel carriers. The "Boss" gets out of the car, with more medals and braids then the Joint Chiefs of Staff, two guys with AK-47s at his side. He asked for my papers and I pointed to the border guard. He walks up to the Guard and demands my passport, having taken it, and read it, he spoke quality English, he slaps the Guard in the face and has his to adjutants throw him (I do mean throw) him into one of the armored cars.

He turns around and smiles at me and say, "apologies for your detaining" and gives me back my passport and hands me a cigar, while his assistants bring out a bottle of Slivovitz Plum Brand. We have a drink and then another with my German friend, then everyone who was standing around watching. This stuff is 80 proof and the cheap stuff tastes like paint thinner. Thankfully my Zaida use to give it us kids to put us to sleep, so I was ready for it. Anyway the "Boss" proceeds to have my car attached to one of the armed carriers, and we all (including 'mein Deutsch freund') down to Maribor for dinner, where we all get roaring drunk and I end up sleeping in the nearby military barracks. I never found out what happened to the Guard.]

When Ivor, remember Ivor, was going through an Iranian border, his colleague who was also English, was arrested and spent ten days in jail. Jails in Iran looked like all those horror stories you've heard. Ivor laughed when relating the story, because he bribed so many people to get his friend out, he probably ended up giving money to some of the other prisoners by mistake. That's the way it is in those countries.

Ivor stopped travelling after the fall of the Shah because it wasn't safe for non-Muslims to drive through Turkey or Iran, and later Iraq. He says that today most of the drivers are Easter Europeans who work for half the wages the Western Europeans did, thirty years ago. Sounded like he enjoyed it warts and all.