Closing in on his 81st birthday and living with Parkinson’s disease for the last decade, Billy Connolly is not letting age nor illness stop him doing what he wants. Over a decades-long career as a stand-up comedian, TV broadcaster and actor, Connolly has been lucky enough to see more of the world than most of us, and this book sees him take the opportunity to recall some of his more memorable journeys.
It’s not a standard travelogue; nothing about Connolly is ever that straightforward. Like his stand-up, the book weaves from topic to topic as Connolly’s hyperactive brain whisks the reader across continents, often meandering through a series of loosely connected anecdotes or spinning off on tangents before reverting back to somewhere approximating where he left off (“‘quite near’ does me fine”).
The book is written in Connolly’s voice and vernacular, and is shot through with his trademark wit. There are more belly-laughs than you get in an entire series of the average sitcom, as he waxes lyrical about everything from reality television to the benefits of “whimsy” in architecture, while also paying homage to subjects that have formed part of his routine for aeons, including masturbation, genitalia and STDs.
You can almost hear Connolly’s Glaswegian burr as he gets himself into a lather about the things that annoy him (“I’m fuelled by anger. And coffee.”) or quivers with excitement about something new he encounters on his travels. “I was never much interested in the learning offered to me at school, but my journeys have given me the best kind of education,” he admits, preferring to gain an understanding of the world through meeting its people, the more eccentric the better.
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This is no mere celebrity memoir, however. Connolly can write compellingly, whether recounting some of the more hilarious anecdotes from an extraordinary life, describing the beauty of a sunset in the Australian outback or explaining the “partisan shenanigans” that continue to tear apart communities in his native Glasgow and in Northern Ireland, as well as more practical matters, such as advice on how to avoid a “Glasgow kiss” (a sudden headbutt). It’s a tad slight, but it’s shot through with so much warmth and humour which more than make up for the brevity.