No Beer on a Dead Planet would probably be described as a “skateboarding travelogue” by any serious literary critic. We’re definitely not one of those, but we’ll try to do it justice. Here goes.
Basically, when a book opens with a discussion of the merits of mixing lager and warm soy milk and ends with a review of a series of skateparks across Australia and New Zealand (“Clocked up twelve staples in the back of my head, so it must have been good”), you know you’re in for a good ride. Jono Coote writes about his time spent travelling around like Bill Bryson and Bukowski’s bastard love child, meeting the sort of characters on the way that only skateboarding could introduce you to.
All in all, this is a good way to while away a rainy Sunday afternoon, dreaming of better weather and more interesting skatespots, and we can’t recommend it enough.