I went on a two week trip to Ireland (1st week) and then London and only took this book. I had the idea that, like most trips, I'd wander into a bookstore and pick up something else for the trip home. And I was sure that I'd not have any time to read. Nope - or at least not in Ireland, sadly. There was rain, there was illness, and no one was particularly interested in (or well enough to be) going to a bookstore. Oddly there was also a lack of any books in any of the shops we rushed in and out of. (Well, one store - but the choices were large hardback books that were pricey. And heavy. So no.)That's all a lead up to the fact that I read this book about five times. In a row. Over and over. Until I couldn't read it any longer because I knew it very well at that point. And here's the thing - while I was not happy to be reading the same book repeatedly (seriously, there was nothing else to do), even the forced readings didn't make me hate it. I enjoyed the story, and it was interesting and humorous here and there, and I enjoyed the style of writing. The characters weren't people I minded spending that much time with. I won't say that I didn't wish I could move on to another book by the same authors - but hey, anything forced on you will do that after a while. This is one of the primary reasons ("never again!") I now own a Kindle, by the way.I'd read a lot of Gaiman's graphic novels (Sandman series) at that point, but still have yet to read another Pratchett. Not that I haven't bought anything of his - it's getting around to it you see. A Discworld ebook is waiting for me even as I type this.