Robert Macfarlane: Mountains of the Mind. I have never felt the slightest wish to climb a mountain, but this is a fascinating study of why some people (inclusding the author) do.
Charles Dickens: Nicholas Nickleby. The only Dickens novel I hadn't previously read. A rattling good read)
Harry Pearson: The Beast, the Emperor and the Milkman: A Bone-shaking Tour through Cycling’s Flemish Heartlands. I haven't ridden a bicycle since I was 14 or so, and am not really interested in bike-racing, but Harry Pearson is always worth reading.