I collect vintage expedition books from around the turn of the century (1850s to 1930s)—the kind of dusty travel books featuring real adventure. When I read the stories, I become envious of the writers ability to set off into the unexplored, discovering something previously unknown to the western world. And while most of the world’s historical sights have already been explored, the feeling of discovering something for the first time still gives me a rush of excitement.

I avoid packaged tours as much as I can and typically don’t like to be restricted by bus, train or airplane schedules. I enjoy being an independent traveller, but sometimes that means I have to go out of my way to find alternate means of transportation. The 18+ hour overnight bus ride from Rangoon to Inle Lake took a bit of my travelers soul, so I was in search of alternate means to take me the rest of the way to Mandalay.

Just a few days into my travels through Burma, I landed in the Nyaung Shwe township in the north eastern part of the country. I arrived in the town early in the morning and chartered a boat to take me around the lake. One of the stops was a traditional trading marketplace where you could buy fresh fish, fruits, vegetables, handicrafts and tobacco.

In November 2004, I finally made my way to Burma (Myanmar). It was always one of those countries that seemed out of reach. Not simply just because the US State Department “frowns” upon Americans visiting, but because it was still a pretty difficult country to get to. Infrequent flights, difficult visas to obtain and limited information on how to travel when you arrived hampered my plans each time I tried. Once I landed, however, I was met by the luxury of a $5 a night room at the White House Hotel in Rangoon (Yangon). As you can see from the photo, there was plenty of storage for my luggage. This was true opulence.

It was early in the morning on November 20th, 2004 when the knock came to my guesthouse door. It was one of those things that sounded so amazing the night before after a few Myanmar Beers. I vaguely remember the Japanese girl saying, “you should come with us ‘early’ in the morning to watch the sunrise.” I opened the door wearing only my Longyi, forgetting the modesty of the Japanese culture. While she averted her eyes in embarrassment, I threw on a t-shirt, grabbed my camera and we were off on our bicycles to find the perfect sunrise temple.