Picture this: a young writer, nursing a personal disappointment, decides the best remedy is a long, solitary walk through the mountains of southern France. To carry his gear, he buys a small, wilful donkey named Modestine. What follows is a twelve-day journey that is equal parts travelogue, comedy, and meditation.

The Story

The plot is simple—man and donkey walk from one town to the next. But the real story is in the details. Stevenson struggles constantly with Modestine, who prefers naps to progress and has a genius for getting loose. He tinkers with packsaddles, bribes her with snacks, and learns the hard way that donkeys are partners, not servants. As they move through the Cevennes region, Stevenson meets shepherds, innkeepers, and monks, painting vivid pictures of rural French life just a few years after a brutal civil war. The landscape itself is a character: harsh, beautiful, and steeped in a turbulent Protestant history that he reflects upon as he walks.

Why You Should Read It

This book surprised me. I expected a dusty old travel journal, but it’s incredibly fresh and funny. Stevenson’s honesty is its greatest charm. He doesn’t cast himself as a heroic explorer; he’s just a guy who’s bad at handling a donkey, occasionally lonely, and constantly observing. His growing, grudging affection for Modestine is wonderful to watch. You feel the ache in his legs, the frustration of a stubborn animal, and the profound peace of sleeping under the stars. It’s a masterclass in finding adventure and meaning in the ordinary rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other.

Final Verdict

Perfect for anyone who loves the idea of a long walk, enjoys dry humor, or needs a reminder that the best stories often come from the detours. If you’ve ever felt a pull to escape modern life, even for a few chapters, Stevenson’s journey with his four-legged friend is a timeless and deeply human companion. It’s a quiet, brilliant little book about getting a little lost to find yourself.