This book was a fun read, in the beginning. Troost's book works at first because of his sarcastic, self-deprecating, and humorous voice. But after a while, you start to realize that there's nothing really behind that voice.
Troost is in his late twenties when he moves to the south pacific to follow his fiance who took a job there. He's done not much with his life, and on the island of Tarawa, he continues on this path. No job, no hobbies really - except for taking up surfing, which he expounds upon in great detail but which doesn't tell you much about the culture and people of the place where he lives. He manages to squeeze in a few historical tidbits and some shallow observations, very few founded upon deep connections with locals or significant experiences. You end up with the feeling that he lounged around home all day fumbling with his keyboard while trying to write, yet actually writing nothing for two years. He sometimes enjoyed the water and sun, and sometimes he saw some local things.
But he's got a cute and snappy voice, so it hooks you in the beginning and then you feel compelled to finish. I mean, something good might happen. It doesn't really. There's not much personal arc or drama.
Having read a few travelogues so far, what have I figured out? I prefer personality, the personal, lyrical description. Humor matters less to me.