If you like travel and/or boats and/or dogs and/or a writer with humor and quotes from classics to films, this book will be right up your...canal. Funny and disarming, showing the downside moments as well as the champagne highs of taking a narrowboat across the Channel and, even more scaringly, down through France, not a dull page in the lot.

I can't wait to see what happens when Terry and Monica and Jim the Narrow Dog come to my home country in the US.

I read it in two sittings.
BarbV

I didn't care for the book much. There were bits and pieces that were humourous, but overall, I didn't find it all that funny. That was disappointing, because I think the author can be quite humorous.
I think, as others have mentioned, Darlington was trying too hard to show how erudite he was by including as many references to songs, books, quotes, poetry, etc. as he could. I'm well read and well traveled, but I didn't know what he was talking about half of the time.
And even though this was about a boat trip, if I had to read one more ad nuasuem description of the locks they passed through, I would have screamed. Enough already!
One more thing-it drove me CRAZY that there were absolutely no quotation marks in the book-made it very hard to read.

A must for dog lovers and would-be adventurers. If you've ever been to Europe and seen the canal boats you may have thought about what it would be like to live and travel as the Darlington's did. The story of their travels is like no other. More than a travel log, it is funny and touching, with a bit of history and humor. The exploits and insights of Jim the whippet as Darlington tells them are priceless. You can feel the water beneath you and the sun on your face. You'll cheer them on, and be inspired by their courage.

Narrow Dog to Carcassonne

This is a wonderful tale of 2 British retirees and their brave dog, Jim, who set off on the adventure of a lifetime. They travel through the canals of Britain, cross the English Channel (a terrifying journey if there ever was one!) and then cruise the French canals.

Pubs, locks, odd folks and a dog who loves to run and hates boats. What a voyage!

Darlington's voice is wry, dry and full of literary references.

Dog lovers, adventure readers, and armchair travelers will all enjoy cruising with Jim and the Darlingtons.

As an American Couple who spent 6 weeks in a "hire-narrowboat" on the canals of England in the mid-'80's, Jim Whippet and his owner's, the Darlington's account of such living is "spot-on". Yes, you'll need to love dogs, english slang, have some expertise with Franglaise (french-enmeshed-with-english) but the book's factual travelogue with associational memories and whippet understandings is a wonderful read.
Of course if you expect a plot, a mystery, logical sequencing or the inanities of FOX TV soundbites: Please save yourself the trouble. IF on the other hand, you delight in conversations with real foreigners (British, French and Canine), as well random bits of philosophy, poetry, and fantasies, then BUY THIS BOOK IT'S FUN!

This book is a disappointment because the author took an exciting trip but he spends too much time illustrating his personal prejudices and shortcomings. It's too bad that Eric Newby couldn't have taken the same journey. His would be a better book.

It takes a few pages to catch on to the authors style and sense of humor but is well worth the effort because you will be taken on an unusual journey with the author, his wife and their dog and treated to his unique sense of the world and the people he encounters. The book is overflowing with humor, charm, wit and pathos. I finished it too quickly and now I am eagerly waiting for the next one.

Terry and his wife, Monica, and their anthropomorphist dog, Jim, take us with them on a wondrous journey in their English Canal Boat as they travel the waterways on both sides of the Channel on their way to Carcassonne.
The author sees the essence of a situation and relates it with such sharp images that we are immediately transported into the scene. His perception of nature around their narrow craft lets the reader savor the beauty along with him. Sometimes, he uses two-word descriptors in a single sentence collage that allows the reader's eye to sweep along the bank and embrance both the feeling and the detail of a village or pasture.
Terry's wit masterfully combines humor and satire that prompts outloud laughter and then thoughtful reflection of the truths he reveals.
Narrow Dog to Carcassonne is a delightful read and an opportunity to experience and unforgetable adventure.

I was surprised to see such high ratings for this book here given the writing style is very tedious to deal with, but perhaps it depends on whether the reader is used to british or american english. The author uses unrelenting amount of british regional slang that is completely unfamiliar to even a well-traveled reader (...I like to think...) such as myself, and that is rarely, if ever, defined. Aside from the vocabulary, the author's style seems to make matters worse as he tries hard to be witty with every single sentence, with what appears to be wink-and-a-nudge euphemisms for just about everything. The result is a book that is tiresome and where the narrative thread is almost completely lost to an overpowering and impenetrable style. Before buying this book, I'd read 3 or 4 pages to make sure you a comfortable with it, and take a look at the Kirkus review found elsewhere that I believe accurately characterizes the challenges in reading this book.

I listened to this delightful book on disc and enjoyed it immensely. It's wonderfully witty and captivating.

The narrow dog is Jim, a whippet. He's a charming soundrel who will do almost anything for a pork scratching or sex. He's warm and smells of buttered toast, but he's not much of a hunter and he hates boats. So what is he doing on the Phyllis May? Well it's a matter of love, really. But I get ahead of myself. The Phyllis May is an English narrowboat, 60 feet long by 7 feet wide. She is named for Terry's mother, who, although dead, shows up periodically to play a role in this adventure.

And the people in this romp are Terry and Monica Darlington, pensioners, who decide to take the Phyllis May across the English Channel, through Belgum and France to the Mediterranean. Early in the book, they are advised that they "would be better off in a home...why don't you drink yourself to death in the Star like a normal person..." rather than head out to sea on a narrowboat with a narrow dog? Experts told them they would not live to tell the tale. But, fortunately for us, they have. This book has everything: storms, hangovers, breakdowns, vandals, trolls, aliens, killer fish and a charming bunch of characters. This is high-spirited travel. I would recommend the audio version, which is read by Steve Hodson, who does a great job of bringing the book to life.

This might seem an unlikely trio to embark on a 1600 mile trip across the English Channel and through France:

"Terry Darlington was brought up during the Second World War between an oil terminal and a flying boat base. He survived and went to Oxford University, where he passed unnoticed. In Stone, Staffordshire, he founded Research Associates, the international research firm, and Stone Master Marathoners, the running club. Like many Welshmen, Terry is ill at ease with practical matters, and liable to linger in public houses. He likes boating but knows nothing about it."

'Monica's father was a gardener and her mother a housemaid, or perhaps it was the other way round. She was Beauty Queen of Brecon and Radnorshire, has a first class degree, and ran thirty marathons. Her three children have all reproduced themselves, removing doubts about whether she and Terry are the same species. She quite likes boating but knows nothing about it."

"Brynula Great Expectations (Jim) is sprung from a long line of dogs with ridiculous names. Jim can run at forty miles an hour. He is cowardly, thieving, and disrespectful, and hates boating."

The journey starts in a pub with a fellow named Clive:

"Is this Old Speckled Hen a strong one? asked Clive - it tastes so smooth. The thing is you rope them up together side by side, so if one breaks a belt on the engine the other tows it out of the way of the tankers and car ferries. Piece of piss really. Clive, I said, you come from Dudley, you have been to sea once and you nearly didn't come back, and now you want to put at hazard the December years I could spend in the Star or watching Kylie Minogue on the box.

"But narrowboats are like those toys, said Clive. The bottom is full of bricks so they roll back. What about that chap, I said, who built a narrowboat in Liverpool and set out across the Irish Sea? How did he do? asked Clive. No one ever found out, I said. Must have run into a maelstrom, said Clive. Is that single malt as good as you say it is? He sat back and smiled. Jim looked at him with eyes full of love. He had found a leader at last.

"When I woke up the next morning, and I wished I had not woken up the next morning, I realized that I had agreed to sail an inland boat across the English Channel, roped up to a madman."

Nevertheless, our three heroes set off. After retirement, they faced three choices: bore themselves to death, drink themselves to death, have a bit of adventure.

The "Phyllis May" carries them across the Channel, and along the rivers of Flanders, the canals beneath Paris, the beautiful Yonne, the Burgundy Canal, the Saône, the Rhône, and the canals leading to the sea. They end up almost drowned among flamingos in the Camargue. Along the way they meet "poets, captains, historians, drunks, bargees, men with guns, scholars, madmen - they all want to meet the people on the painted boat and their narrow dog."

This is a charming, witty, delightful travel book. Meeting these three characters was a great joy. It will be fun to meet them again in Narrow Dog to Indian River.

This might seem an unlikely trio to embark on a 1600 mile trip across the English Channel and through France:

"Terry Darlington was brought up during the Second World War between an oil terminal and a flying boat base. He survived and went to Oxford University, where he passed unnoticed. In Stone, Staffordshire, he founded Research Associates, the international research firm, and Stone Master Marathoners, the running club. Like many Welshmen, Terry is ill at ease with practical matters, and liable to linger in public houses. He likes boating but knows nothing about it."

'Monica's father was a gardener and her mother a housemaid, or perhaps it was the other way round. She was Beauty Queen of Brecon and Radnorshire, has a first class degree, and ran thirty marathons. Her three children have all reproduced themselves, removing doubts about whether she and Terry are the same species. She quite likes boating but knows nothing about it."

"Brynula Great Expectations (Jim) is sprung from a long line of dogs with ridiculous names. Jim can run at forty miles an hour. He is cowardly, thieving, and disrespectful, and hates boating."

The journey starts in a pub with a fellow named Clive:

"Is this Old Speckled Hen a strong one? asked Clive - it tastes so smooth. The thing is you rope them up together side by side, so if one breaks a belt on the engine the other tows it out of the way of the tankers and car ferries. Piece of piss really. Clive, I said, you come from Dudley, you have been to sea once and you nearly didn't come back, and now you want to put at hazard the December years I could spend in the Star or watching Kylie Minogue on the box.

"But narrowboats are like those toys, said Clive. The bottom is full of bricks so they roll back. What about that chap, I said, who built a narrowboat in Liverpool and set out across the Irish Sea? How did he do? asked Clive. No one ever found out, I said. Must have run into a maelstrom, said Clive. Is that single malt as good as you say it is? He sat back and smiled. Jim looked at him with eyes full of love. He had found a leader at last.

"When I woke up the next morning, and I wished I had not woken up the next morning, I realized that I had agreed to sail an inland boat across the English Channel, roped up to a madman."

Nevertheless, our three heroes set off. After retirement, they faced three choices: bore themselves to death, drink themselves to death, have a bit of adventure.

The "Phyllis May" carries them across the Channel, and along the rivers of Flanders, the canals beneath Paris, the beautiful Yonne, the Burgundy Canal, the Saône, the Rhône, and the canals leading to the sea. They end up almost drowned among flamingos in the Camargue. Along the way they meet "poets, captains, historians, drunks, bargees, men with guns, scholars, madmen - they all want to meet the people on the painted boat and their narrow dog."

This is a charming, witty, delightful travel book. It was a great joy to meet all three for this reviewer.

I am surprised to read negative reviews on this book, pay them no mind, this book is great fun, well told and I will most definitely be buying their new book. I have been up and down much of the inter coastal waterway so this should prove interesting as well. Strong work! Now its time for me to digress...
I remember when I was but a wee lad living in the country. I had a bow and arrow, I had a spool bolted to it, which was wound with fishing line and a special arrow. I could tie this line to this job specific arrow so as to shoot fish, the special arrow had retractable barbs so if I hit a fish it would cling to the poor thing like a fish hook, pull on the line retrieve the fish and then what? Fishing with a bow at least in my case should be renamed failure, not one fish, I shot a number of logs, but no fish, life goes on...I also had good ole fashion regular wood arrows with feathered ends and sharp points to shout at trees, trash cans anything large and stationary. My older brother Chuckles came up with a game that was a lot more challenging than what I had been doing. There was a Utility pole between our house and a small cottage in our backfield, the pole was a 6x6 and was used to string power to the cottage. His idea was to shoot an arrow straight into the air and try to pierce the top of the utility pole, leaving an arrow as a calling card to all other utility poles, don't mess with the Williams boys. We gave no thought to what would happen if hit the power line, but we did keep our eyes on the arrow in flight, keeping tabs seemed like a good idea since we did not want anymore holes in our young bodies. When I look back on this I realize it was a stupid game as well as dangerous, but I make no claims that we were smart, but we were alert, we never took our eyes off the arrow's. "Stupid but alert", is this how my epitaph will read? I cannot predict the future but I can tell you that if you have a sense of humor you will enjoy this book...Kind Regards JW