Dervla Murphy Remembered

Back in 1993 when we were planning the very first issue of Wanderlust magazine, I knew who I wanted the first interview subject to be. At a time when most travel writers and explorers were male, there was an Irish woman traveller who was fearless and adventurous. Who travelled by foot or bicycle, talking to everyone she met and truly having what we now call “immersive” experiences.

In 1963 Dervla Murphy rode a bicycle from Ireland to India, riding through Persia, Afghanistan and Pakistan at a time when a lone woman travelling there, let alone on a bike, was almost unknown. She had a gun in her pocket, and an open heart and mind, and the astonishing tales from that trip made her first book, Full Tilt, a must read for anyone with itchy feet.

She followed that book with other accounts of adventurous journeys – Where the Indus is Young, Eight Feet in the Andes and In Ethiopia with a Mule, had her travelling with her young daughter. Again, to the astonishment of many and more chronicles were to follow.

But for Dervla it wasn’t just about the travel; she was increasingly interested in geopolitics and issues too. In 1993 she brought out Ukimwi Road, based in a cycle ride through Africa at the height of the AIDs. While she made her feelings clear on the politics around the situation, and how a combination of the shameful neglect and destructive interference by the west had left a continent in crisis, it also had all the mind-boggling anecdotes we expected, from a baboon stealing her knickers to her getting beaten up by Kenyan policeman.

Dervla was in London for the publication of the book and had agreed to an interview with me at the office of her then publisher, John Murray. I had been warned that she didn’t like giving interviews but she was terrific and we chatted for nearly an hour. It was then that I discovered that I hadn’t turned my tape recorder on.

Dervla was a trooper. She suggested we whizzed back though it, which is what we did. Once safely recorded, I suggested we head to the nearest pub which she readily agreed. And where she sank a couple of pints of bitter while I was still faffing around.

I was to meet Dervla several times over the years. One time she was over – I think it was in her 80^thyear – we met in London and went in search of a pub (of course). As she strode down the street, I found myself jogging to keep up with her. She rejected the first bar we entered as a bit too trendy, but the next one was more to her taste.

If I have one regret, it’s that I didn’t get to take up her offer to visit her in her home in Lismore, County Waterford. She famously lived without mod cons, only ate breakfast, swam in the local river and, until her last few years, would take visitors on long, exhausting walks.

On the times I did talk to her, whether in person or on the phone, she was always the same shrewd, straight-talking but warm and engaging personality.

Dervla, your fearlessness, curiosity and generous spirit were such an inspiration. Thank you.

Dervla Murphy 1931-2022