Barbara Hodgson's novel, The Tattooed Map must have been as fun to write/compile as it was to read. I suppose you would consider it a novel, but it almost seems more of an 'entertainment' as the story can easily be read in one sitting. Much of the enjoyment comes from perusing the ephemera and marginalia that illustrate the novel. I wrote about it briefly here, but I don't think I ever described the story.
Told in a series of journal entries, The Tattooed Map, is a mysterious, almost dreamlike tale of two former lovers who embark on a journey to Morocco, but it becomes an entirely different kind of journey. Where it ends is left up to your own imagination. Lydia and Chris are good friends but even more so, good travel companions. They can't seem to live together, but they do travel well together. Their trip to Morroco is a combination of pleasure, adventure and work.
Lydia is the sort of traveler who likes to immerse herself in the people and culture of a country even before she sets foot on the plane. Once there she is happy meandering about, meeting people and exploring. Chris is more indifferent when it comes to travel. He's an assured traveler, but there is little planning. Lydia is sure it is all luck. Chris would rather hide behind a newspaper than interact with strangers, but he is successful in his business, which is dealing in antiques--finding just the right thing for the right client.
Shortly after they arrive, Lydia notices what she believes are a cluster of flea bites on her left hand, the result of sleeping in a strange bed in less than hygienic circumstances. As the days pass what appears to be a tattoo of a map begin emerging on her arm, which she keeps covered with her shirt. She's confused and unsure of what seems to be happening and not comfortable telling Chris about this strange occurrence.
Part of the mystery and part of the explanation of the mystery is a strange Morrocan man who seems to be at every café Chris and Lydia visit. Lydia wonders if he's following them. As she awaits the arrival of Chris one afternoon he approaches her table.
"He unravelled a story, slowly, like reluctant insomnia. The steady, monotonous voice so much like my own thoughts--repetitious, relentless, unforgiving. I panicked as his finger traced round and round the tender skin of my wrist and tried to pull my hand away. His grip tightened and I heard him say, 'Only your skin and your tears will allow you this journey'."
And then Lydia disappears. Leaving everything behind except her passport and money, Chris has no idea what has happened to her and is mystified by what she has written in her journal. He must overcome his indifference before he can understand what has happened to Lydia.
The story is a puzzle, both for Chris and the reader. Perhaps part of the solution is knowing that Lydia is an inveterate traveler and that is she had her way, she would never stop. Hodgson leaves much up to the reader's imagination--particularly with the ending, but somehow it seems fitting with such a story that is in it's own way as labyrinthine as Morrocco's ancient cities.