The Longest Way Home by Andrew Mccarthy | book review
Andrew McCarthy was never a travel writer at the onset. He was an actor first and starred in hugely popular movies in the 80s such as St. Elmo’s Fire and Mannequin. How he ended up writing for National Geographic and his many other adventures, are brilliantly unraveled in every chapter of his book, The Longest Way Home.
He starts his story with New York and then hopped his way all over the globe – Patagonia, Kilimanjaro and Vienna, just to name a few. He then ended his journey in Dublin. And after all spending all those time on the road, at sea or some remote corner in the world, he finally has the courage to face his personal questions that he may have avoided for so long, but knew the answers to all this time.
The premise sounds like a heartbreaking memoir of one man who is just afraid to commit to a serious relationship. One fine morning he just decided to find his true self that probably got lost amidst a high paying corporate job or a terribly perfect marriage. That may just remind you of a Julia Roberts movie, but thankfully that is not the case here.
McCarthy interspersed his engaging travel narratives with the right combination of wit, nostalgia and honesty. He writes in a way that would allow the reader to be interested in both the places where he has been to, and to the intimate parts of his life that he reveals in each story.
I rarely come across, if at all, to this kind of travel writing these days. Maybe then I should read more of McCarthy’s works in the future.