The Burma files:

Christen and I bought a one way pass on the ancient Burmese railway from the hill station of Maymyo in December on a lark. We bounced up and down the hard seats for the day, and its a wonder the train didn’t fall off the tracks, but in return, we were rewarded with incredible once in a lifetime views.  

A highlight was the Goteik viaduct - a man-made structure that shouldn’t  be safe to travel across but somehow still is standing after all these years.

As a traveler, nothing really beats the view and experience from a train.

It’s not every day that you can wake up before dawn, head out to a sapphired lake, and hang out with fishermen doing their thing as they’ve done for generations - casting nets with their hands and paddling with their feet.  
The first thoughts that came into my head was “how silly does growth hacking seem” when I’m watching these guys go through their perfect dances, followed by “there is a line between fishing and growth hacking”, followed by “I want to punch myself in the face” followed by “shut up brain, and enjoy the moment”.
Off the grid, indeed.

It’s not every day that you can wake up before dawn, head out to a sapphired lake, and hang out with fishermen doing their thing as they’ve done for generations - casting nets with their hands and paddling with their feet.  

The first thoughts that came into my head was “how silly does growth hacking seem” when I’m watching these guys go through their perfect dances, followed by “there is a line between fishing and growth hacking”, followed by “I want to punch myself in the face” followed by “shut up brain, and enjoy the moment”.

Off the grid, indeed.


who knows if the moon’sa balloon,coming out of a keen cityin the sky—filled with pretty people?( and if you and I shouldget into it,if theyshould take me and take you into their balloon,why thenwe’d go up higher with all the pretty peoplethan houses and steeples and clouds:go sailingaway and away sailing into a keencity which nobody’s ever visited,wherealwaysit’sSpring)and everyone’sin love and flowers pick themselves

This e e cummings poem flitted across my head when we saw all the balloons danced up over the sun.

who knows if the moon’s
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky—filled with pretty people?
( and if you and I should

get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we’d go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody’s ever visited,where

always
it’s
Spring)and everyone’s
in love and flowers pick themselves

This e e cummings poem flitted across my head when we saw all the balloons danced up over the sun.