Review: Winging It: Travelling Without Reservations by Michael Kluckner
by Michael Kluckner
Vancouver: Midtown Press (2026)
This is such a fun book, particularly if you're interested in travel and adventure these days, but also if you want to reminisce about travels past, before the internet and cell phones. This article was originally published in The BC Review on September 11, 2026.
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There’s something heady about packing your suitcase and embarking on a trip where you don’t know exactly where you’ll end up each night, whether it be camping at a last-minute site by a lake, or a slightly dodgy motel off a lonely highway exit. I’ve travelled this way a few times, but not in recent years. I’d honestly forgotten the sense of freedom and discovery of a barely-planned road trip. Forgotten, that is, until I read Winging It: Travelling Without Reservations, a travelogue of sorts by Vancouver writer and artist Michael Kluckner. It’s a slim volume full of fascinating travel destinations and evocative illustrations that had me ready to pack my bags and head out for parts unknown, minus the rigorous travel planning I’m apt to do these days.
As soon as I opened the book, I was welcomed into Kluckner and his partner Christine’s world of travel, with its friendly and conversational tone. The typography and layout have been designed with the hint of a retro vibe, and it’s very approachable, the kind of book that invites you in and asks you to linger a while. I can imagine gifting this book or sharing it with friends. You can sit down and read a whole chapter—which generally constitutes one travel location—or a few paragraphs at a time.
As he introduces the book, the Covid pandemic is just fading in intensity, and he’s looking at travelling once again, though struck by the fact that tourist destinations are booming as the post-pandemic world rushes to the familiar solace of a good vacation.
“Hotels were bursting at the seams, museums required tickets with specific entry-exit times purchased well in advance. And you somehow had to get there, on planes as overbooked as their overhead lockers were overstuffed...Travelling, it seemed, would be like going on a tightly organized tour, booked well in advance,” Kluckner writes.
It will become evident as the reader travels though these pages that Kluckner is not that type of traveller. He’s a wanderer who plans a bit but leaves much of his itinerary open for adventure. So, he asks:
“What if you just want to wing it? Take your chances on finding a place to sleep? Move along as the spirit moves you?
Can you still do it?”
With this, I thought that I was in for stories of Kluckner’s travels of the last few years, but instead, these are reminiscences of trips that he’s taken years ago interspersed with more recent ones. The chapter “Winging It Before the Internet” perked my interest, reminding me about my own travels years ago. I had forgotten about travellers’ cheques, those money stand-ins that you had to trade for cash in the local, foreign bank. And there’s something about the days of clutching one’s beat-up Lonely Planet guide, dog-eared and marked up, that seems tangibly old school.
If you’ve travelled to some of the locations in the book, Kluckner’s relatable and fantastically descriptive writing will take you down memory lane. If you haven’t yet been, you may be inspired to go. I read the chapter “Getting a Driver: Bali and India” with such avidity, as it recalled my own trip to India (where I did not wing it; rather took a tour) and I liked seeing his perspective on the destination. He paints a scene so well:
"Cows munched through garbage, stray dogs slept in gutters inches from passing cart wheels. Incongruously, perhaps, men wore clean shirts, women colourful saris. Fabric hung in shopfronts. It was noisy, almost confronting, like a video game where you’re caught in a wave rolling you along while dodging incoming missiles. But it felt safe, never threatening or hostile at all."
I had to laugh at an episode at the train station in Delhi when they were set to embark for Agra. All the signage was in Hindi, and departure time was rapidly approaching. A kind local rescued them and got them on the right train as they hopped on and swung themselves inside the train car. These days, Google Translate makes such a story increasingly unlikely, for better or worse.
Some of the travel stories are almost snippets, quick anecdotes of a trip without overplanning. “A Room of One’s Own in Normandy,” is a quick foray to France in 2023. This was their “acid-test for post-Covid winging it,” and with a small rental car and a hotel booking app on the phone, they found both frustration–no hotel rooms in Lens due to a rugby tournament; a previously-loved hotel shuttered and vacant–and the delightfully unexpected. I’ve never heard of renting a room for the night in a senior’s home, but it yielded an unexpectedly well-stocked and cosy apartment. Kluckner’s conclusion? Winging it is still possible these days.
As much as I enjoyed the stories, Kluckner’s illustrations add so much visual interest. Presented in black and white, his sketches are detailed and capture ephemeral experiences in visual form. In France’s countryside well off the beaten track, "shepherds still drove their flocks of sheep along the roadways in the ‘transhumance’—the age-old movement from lowland pastures to higher ones as the seasons progressed.” And there it is: a sketch that places the reader in the driver’s seat as a shepherd guides his sheep across the road. Another drawing shows the silhouettes of surf fishermen sprawled on the shore of Australia’s East coast.
The author has drawn maps for each of his trips: clear, simple and helpful. I love a book with good maps!
I appreciated Kluckner’s art and stories for the inspiration they evoked. He’s fair and balanced in his memoir, effectively translating the inherent contradictions of travel—particularly unscripted travel!—to the page. The beauty and the filth on the Italian Coast: “...buffalos grazed in the distance and a skiff of fishermen, almost dissolved in the blue Mediterranean haze, checked traps a few yards offshore. But the beach was filthy, covered one end to the other with rubbish…” The wonder and the frustrations of exploring parts unknown. And, of course, the joy of traveling in lockstep with the relief of coming home.
Winging It is a book that suggests that spontaneous travel, or even incorporating some unplanned adventures into your otherwise organised trip, is enriching and absolutely still possible. It’s inspired me to wander more when I travel, to slow down on the road and open myself to unscripted vacation experiences. It’s an excellent book for those who want to recall their own past travels or get inspired to explore anew, perhaps winging it a bit themselves.
As soon as I opened the book, I was welcomed into Kluckner and his partner Christine’s world of travel, with its friendly and conversational tone. The typography and layout have been designed with the hint of a retro vibe, and it’s very approachable, the kind of book that invites you in and asks you to linger a while. I can imagine gifting this book or sharing it with friends. You can sit down and read a whole chapter—which generally constitutes one travel location—or a few paragraphs at a time.
As he introduces the book, the Covid pandemic is just fading in intensity, and he’s looking at travelling once again, though struck by the fact that tourist destinations are booming as the post-pandemic world rushes to the familiar solace of a good vacation.
“Hotels were bursting at the seams, museums required tickets with specific entry-exit times purchased well in advance. And you somehow had to get there, on planes as overbooked as their overhead lockers were overstuffed...Travelling, it seemed, would be like going on a tightly organized tour, booked well in advance,” Kluckner writes.
It will become evident as the reader travels though these pages that Kluckner is not that type of traveller. He’s a wanderer who plans a bit but leaves much of his itinerary open for adventure. So, he asks:
“What if you just want to wing it? Take your chances on finding a place to sleep? Move along as the spirit moves you?
Can you still do it?”
With this, I thought that I was in for stories of Kluckner’s travels of the last few years, but instead, these are reminiscences of trips that he’s taken years ago interspersed with more recent ones. The chapter “Winging It Before the Internet” perked my interest, reminding me about my own travels years ago. I had forgotten about travellers’ cheques, those money stand-ins that you had to trade for cash in the local, foreign bank. And there’s something about the days of clutching one’s beat-up Lonely Planet guide, dog-eared and marked up, that seems tangibly old school.
 |
| Vancouver author and illustrator Michael Kluckner |
 |
| An illustration by Michael Kluckner early on in the book. "As soon as I opened the book, I was welcomed into Kluckner and his partner Christine’s world of travel, with its friendly and conversational tone," writes reviewer Trish Bowering. |
If you’ve travelled to some of the locations in the book, Kluckner’s relatable and fantastically descriptive writing will take you down memory lane. If you haven’t yet been, you may be inspired to go. I read the chapter “Getting a Driver: Bali and India” with such avidity, as it recalled my own trip to India (where I did not wing it; rather took a tour) and I liked seeing his perspective on the destination. He paints a scene so well:
"Cows munched through garbage, stray dogs slept in gutters inches from passing cart wheels. Incongruously, perhaps, men wore clean shirts, women colourful saris. Fabric hung in shopfronts. It was noisy, almost confronting, like a video game where you’re caught in a wave rolling you along while dodging incoming missiles. But it felt safe, never threatening or hostile at all."
I had to laugh at an episode at the train station in Delhi when they were set to embark for Agra. All the signage was in Hindi, and departure time was rapidly approaching. A kind local rescued them and got them on the right train as they hopped on and swung themselves inside the train car. These days, Google Translate makes such a story increasingly unlikely, for better or worse.
 |
| Michael Kluckner's illustration introducing the chapter 'A Room of One’s Own in Normandy' |
Some of the travel stories are almost snippets, quick anecdotes of a trip without overplanning. “A Room of One’s Own in Normandy,” is a quick foray to France in 2023. This was their “acid-test for post-Covid winging it,” and with a small rental car and a hotel booking app on the phone, they found both frustration–no hotel rooms in Lens due to a rugby tournament; a previously-loved hotel shuttered and vacant–and the delightfully unexpected. I’ve never heard of renting a room for the night in a senior’s home, but it yielded an unexpectedly well-stocked and cosy apartment. Kluckner’s conclusion? Winging it is still possible these days.
 |
| Another illustration by Michael Kluckner gives a taste of Australia's East Coast: surf fisherman sprawled out on the shore |
As much as I enjoyed the stories, Kluckner’s illustrations add so much visual interest. Presented in black and white, his sketches are detailed and capture ephemeral experiences in visual form. In France’s countryside well off the beaten track, "shepherds still drove their flocks of sheep along the roadways in the ‘transhumance’—the age-old movement from lowland pastures to higher ones as the seasons progressed.” And there it is: a sketch that places the reader in the driver’s seat as a shepherd guides his sheep across the road. Another drawing shows the silhouettes of surf fishermen sprawled on the shore of Australia’s East coast.
The author has drawn maps for each of his trips: clear, simple and helpful. I love a book with good maps!
I appreciated Kluckner’s art and stories for the inspiration they evoked. He’s fair and balanced in his memoir, effectively translating the inherent contradictions of travel—particularly unscripted travel!—to the page. The beauty and the filth on the Italian Coast: “...buffalos grazed in the distance and a skiff of fishermen, almost dissolved in the blue Mediterranean haze, checked traps a few yards offshore. But the beach was filthy, covered one end to the other with rubbish…” The wonder and the frustrations of exploring parts unknown. And, of course, the joy of traveling in lockstep with the relief of coming home.
Winging It is a book that suggests that spontaneous travel, or even incorporating some unplanned adventures into your otherwise organised trip, is enriching and absolutely still possible. It’s inspired me to wander more when I travel, to slow down on the road and open myself to unscripted vacation experiences. It’s an excellent book for those who want to recall their own past travels or get inspired to explore anew, perhaps winging it a bit themselves.
 |
| An illustrated map by Michael Kluckner early in the chapter 'A Winter in the Mediterranean.' As reviewer Trish Bowering notes, Kluckner "has drawn maps for each of his trips: clear, simple and helpful. I love a book with good maps!" |
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