I’ve long been a fan of Alan Partridge’s and have been patiently waiting for a follow-up to I, Partridge. I would have rather had Bouncing Back but that’s not likely since they were all pulped into word porridge. Even though it doesn’t matter because it’s glaringly obvious that he has indeed bounced back, so why would I even need to read it?
So when I saw this, I thought ‘Jurassic Park! Another book!’
Alan Partridge: Nomad chronicles a walk called The Footsteps of My Father™.
Whilst looking in the loft to check if it’s insulated Alan finds a box of things that belonged to his Dad. His father, Lionel Partridge, went for a job at Dungeness Power Station, but fails to turn up for the interview. So, Alan takes it upon himself to honour his father and walk in his ‘footsteps’ and decides to make the 160 mile trip from Norwich to Dungeness himself on foot.
It goes about as well as anything can for Alan. He’s 61 now and attempting a 160-mile walk at any age would be questionable. But in his stubbornness and failing to secure a commission for the accompanying TV series, he goes anyway despite being told not to by his doctor.
This has to be the most Partridge thing I’ve ever read. It seems that he’s matured much like wine or cheese and become more Partridge with age.
The book could have been considerably shorter, but Alan would have thought everything was important and relevant to the walk. There’s a whole two paragraphs about his scratching his bum.
My bum is itchy so I stop in the middle of the landing and scratch it lightly. The fiddling merely tanatlises the itch, and it becomes more agressive. I respond in kind, dragging my fingernails across my fundament in a frenzied jerking motion. With one hand braced against the wall, I’m now grabbing and clawing at the angry aperture, slashing and scraping in a bid to ease the sensation. It’s a delicious relief but I know it’s merely stoking the irritation. And so after a final flurry – scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit, scrit – I stop scratching. My backside pleads with me to continue but I resist, and in a few seconds the itch subsides on it’s own, as I knew it would.
While I do think I, Partridge was better, Nomad still had me laughing throughout. With such lines as ‘Legs are the heroes of walking’ and a rivalry with dinner lady who keeps overtaking him in the swimming pool, it’s very much classic Alan.
As well as the walk, it touches on the events of Alpha Papa, his relationship with Angela and even what happened to Michael after he jumped off that pier.
All in all, a thoroughly enjoyable read. It’s very much for the die hard Partridge fans as it’s littered with references to other Partridge media. I wouldn’t recommend it to casual fans as Alan is very much an acquired taste, much like Marmite.
But if you do love Alan and all things Partridge, as well as reading Nomad, then you should definitely listen to the Monkey Tennis podcast from Post Pop Podcasts.
It’s four dalendless shids who all love Alan, discussing I’m Alan Partridge, going through each episode with a fine-toothed comb. They answer some of the really important questions of the series such as, what’s in Alan’s drawer? Does Sunny D really destroy VHS tapes and can you actually draw a chalk penis on your back?
They’ve also recorded a live show for Alpha Papa, ‘With help from Sue Cook and our live audience, we talk one star reviews, corporate jargon and pub theft as we review Alan’s new house, turn against Danny Sinclair and are shocked at how far Dave Clifton has fallen.’
It makes for really funny listening with a fresh look at I’m Alan Partridge and also lots of Partridge trivia, like did you know that Lynn used to babysit for Alan?