ENTER THE TRAVEL writer on a bad trip. Tim Moore's self-deprecation slides into loathing at Sydney's InterContinental Hotel.
Stars of the Sydney Writers' Festival, Booker Prize winners and best-sellers, mingle nearby. Most met at a pre-festival retreat. None of them knows Moore. While they networked in the Hunter Valley wine region, Moore was schmoozing Eurovision Song Contest competitors in Kiev. As the wine flowed again at the festival launch on Sydney harbour, Moore sat alone watching the Champions' League soccer final. Now, with only a few hours' sleep since the final, he has to endure an interview. His first chance in years to be an ordinary tourist - 'without the pressure of registering everything that's happening around me' - has become work.
Being funnily glum is part of the 'beleaguered Brit abroad' act that has made Moore a rival to Bill Bryson.
'It's easier to write about things when you're having a bad time,' Moore says.
'It's hard to write interestingly when you're being treated like a king and everything's wonderful. You're just writing advertorial. I wouldn't read it.'
He's almost happy to hear that the paperback for his fifth book, Spanish Steps: One Man and Ass on the Pilgrim Way to Santiago, is just out. Most writers beg to have their words festooned in a hardback. Moore likes his books dog-eared. When publisher Jonathon Cape rewarded his popularity by releasing Spanish Steps in hardback, the 41-year-old thought the point had been lost. 'It's a book to stick in your backpack, not to treasure forever on your shelves.'