Forever on the road less travelled

Once upon a time, there lived a man, in Collinstown, in a house made entirely of straw bales.And the wind huffed and it puffed, but his little straw house stayed standing.Manchan Magan, writer, documentary maker, and now novelist, was living a what sounds like a complete death-trap, although he denies that that"s what it was.'The reason I moved to Westmeath was to learn how to write. So I needed somewhere cheap, so I could build this.."nest", so I built this house out of bales of straw, as I"d learnt to do in Africa, where they were building out of whatever was lying around them.With his own self-taught electrical and plumbing skills, the house had in place a necklace of electric sockets and a stove with a back boiler. Despite how it sounds, it was safe enough, and cosy enough, and that was Manch& amp;aacute;n"s home for five years, until a crack came in the walls Eventually, he wound up building a 'conventional' house - albeit with a grass roof.Not entirely conventional is Manch& amp;aacute;n, a tall, youthful and studenty-looking 38 year-old who can be seen regularly flying around the roads of North Westmeath on his bicycle, after his day"s work has been done.In fact, he says, he is a hermit, although probably only as much of a hermit as it is possible to be, if one wishes also to earn a living as a documentary maker and writer.'I now have the balance. I did the going out once or twice a week to some sort of social occasion, and the more I do it, the more I yearn to get back to my house.'He is disciplined, sitting down to his desk at 10 a.m. each morning, and writing until 3 p.m., before setting off on his cycling spins, and that discipline has - after, he claims, six years of rejection slips - seen him publish three travel books, and have one fiction book - in Irish - placed with a publisher, so watch out at Christmas for the arrival in the shops. He"s currently working on a screenplay.The third of those travel books - Truck Fever: A Journey Through Africa - is about to hit the shops, bringing to an end, Manchan says, his writings about those big trips of his youth.Writing is all he ever wanted to do.'So, I decided to live in Collinstown for as long as it took me to learn how to write,' he says - although he has long outstayed that deadline, and has no inclination to move on from there in the foreseeable future, not while there"s a newly-planted 18,000 tree forest planted on his land there, in which he delights.In his early days, when he wasn"t making any headway in his attempts to get published, it was tough going, he recalls.'I"d get so depressed, and a local farmer, Billy Connelly, he"d try and keep me sane. I knew there was nothing else I wanted to do but write. On TV, you couldn"t get the ideas across the way you wanted to.'I"d much rather not being able to eat than not to write,' he says. 'I want to get so much better until I do write a book that is worthy of a big audience.'Normally, people want a family and kids, and I have never been materialistic, and there"s nothing in the world I particularly want, as I noticed when I went to Africa, except finding a way of expressing my thoughts.''I wanted to write those three books, about that period travelling. And now I want to try to get into fiction.'That travel trilogy began with 'Angels and Rabies' in which he wrote about his experiences in South America and Canada; and was followed up by 'Manchan"s Travels: A Journey Through India', an account of his time living in a shed in India, his somewhat involuntary role in helping a young gay Indian youth make it from his village to city life, and his (Manchan) earliest forays into documentary-making.This latest book recalls Manchan's earliest big trip, when he signed up, in London, for a six-month trip overland by truck through Africa, along with twenty strangers.last travel book (see review on page 3 of the 'Examiner Plus').Truck Fever: A Journey Through Africa is, like the other books, nothing short of startlingly confessional.On that trip, that there was bullying, Manchan admits. That he didn"t disassociate himself from it, he admits. That he didn"t stand up against it - partly out of fear that he would, as he describes it, 'become their patsy, their pliant bitch', he also admits.But then again, he says too that the one thing all twenty travellers had in common was 'low self-esteem'.While others might have been tempted - eighteen years on - to 'gloss up' their own heroism, Manchan doesn"t.'There"s an onus on a writer …you have to be honest,' he says, admitting that some of it makes for uncomfortable reading.He was, however, just 20 at the time, but having kept a diary for the entire trip, can say what happened where, and when. But to focus on that early, naievte, that fear of being the 'runt' of the group, and of keeping his head low to avoid being assigned that role, is to catch just a glimpse of who Manch& amp;aacute;n was at the start of that trip.Much more significant is the time when some of the group found their passports stolen, and who were, consequently, unable to leave the village from where they had been due to catch a ferry upriver - which incidentally, didn"t turn up when planned. Feeling responsible for their predicament, Manch& amp;aacute;n chose not to take the easy option, and leave with others who had secured a way out, but to stay with those who were suddenly faced with the nightmare of being stranded in an isolated African village with little money, no passports, and no way way out.That decision, and that experience, changed him.'I did have money, and I could have escaped, but that completely idealistic decision I made - "I"ll stay with these people; these are my friends" - I felt so vainglorious and proud of my decision at the time.'I decided: "I want to live a life which isn"t dictated by fear, but by high ideals". If I had pushed onto the boat I would have got out with the others, but I was thinking: "This is who I want to be. I want to be the person who doesn"t react in small ways, and doesn"t react out of fear".'He knew then he wasn"t going to come home and get a 'normal' job, and he has, still, pretty much lived his life to the ideals he realised in Africa.'I have turned down a lot of opportunities,' he says.Manch& amp;aacute;n had never been back to Africa since that trip until May of this year, when the Irish Times sent him to Zambia.'It was a really important trip: it got me completely hooked again and realising Africa had got under my skin, and wouldn"t let me go.'There"s a lot of stories I want to tell. I want to do a trip maybe looking at sustainable tourism. We have to start understanding Africa more, and that it has so much to offer.'DocumentariesAlthough he writes all the time, Manchan is perhaps better known to the general public as the face in front of the camera on the host of travel documentaries he made with his brother, Ruan, who until just a couple of weeks ago, lived in Castlepollard.It was Ruan who got him involved in documentary making, tracking him down to the shed he lived in in India, and persuading him to join him in making a travel series for TG4.There followed several others, mainly in the Irish language, but with English language versions filmed simultaneously and sold on to t.v. stations abroad.Last year, he was back on the t.v. screens with 'No B& amp;eacute;& amp;aacute;rla', a series in which he attempted to travel around Ireland using only the Irish language. He has also made a a couple of historical documentaries, one of which is blurbed by Manch& amp;aacute;n himself thus:'Sighle Humphreys, society belle and crack-shot Irish rebel, was my grandmother. In her house on Ailesbury road was a secret room in which the Irish rebel leaders, Michael Collins, de Valera, etc, hid out," explains the presenter, Manch& amp;aacute;n Magan'In Nov 1922 the house was raided by Free State Soldiers and the IRA leader, Ernie O"Malley came out shooting. In the ensuing gun battle my great-grandmother was shot through the brain, yet survived. One man died. Who killed him - my granny or Ernie?'It"s credentials like these that have got Manch& amp;aacute;n the few nice steady writing jobs that keep him going at the moment. He writes occasionally for The Guardian, he has a regular travel slot on the RTE news show 'Drivetime' on Wednesdays, what he describes as 'an enthusiastic guide to travel destinations - as an enthusiast rather than an expert'; and a weekly column in the Irish Times"s Saturday travel magazine - 'Magan"s World - Tales Of A Travel Addict'.He is also about to guest-edit the next Midland Arts magazine.In addition, he has done readings at The Electric Picnic, and at writer Pat McCabe"s 'Flat Lake Festival' in Monaghan.He"s involved locally with the 'Co-Motion' film festival for young people, and with Shawbrook School of Dance as well as with the Midland Young Writers" group in Kilbeggan.He loves kids and young people. Although he is currently so focused on writing, and because his natural inclinations are hermetical, he isn"t in a relationship. But he"s going to miss having Ruan"s kids so close by, after years of being able to see them whenever he wanted, and have fun with them. When people find out that he lives alone and has no wife or children they ask does he have a dog or cat.'I don"t want anything too dependent on me,' he says.Voices from the pastSince word came out about Manch& amp;aacute;n"s new book, he"s heard from some of those who were on that trip to Africa. It freaked him a little at first, even though he"s changed everyone"s names, and the lawyers have scrutinised the book. Because they now know it"s coming out, some of the members want to have a reunion.Manch& amp;aacute;n won"t go though.It was a diffent time, a different life - and judging by the book, there were guests at that party one would rather not bother with again.