Elizabeth Kimball Kendall was an American teacher and traveler with serious guts. In 1911, she set off alone (with local guides, of course) on a months-long trip from Shanghai to the Burmese border, right as the Qing Dynasty was falling apart. The book is her day-by-day account of that journey.

The Story

There’s no traditional plot, but the forward momentum of the trip pulls you along. You travel with her by houseboat, chair, and foot. She describes the stunning landscapes, the exhausting climbs, and the kindness of people in villages rarely seen by foreigners. The backdrop is constant, low-grade tension—news of rebellions filters in, officials are nervous, and the future of the nation is the talk of every roadside inn. You feel like you’re right there, sharing her boiled eggs and wondering what the next mountain pass will reveal.

Why You Should Read It

Kendall is a fantastic companion. She’s curious, sharp, and often funny about her own misadventures. She doesn’t pretend to have all the answers about China, which makes her observations feel honest. The book captures a specific, frozen moment in history—the last glimpse of imperial China—through the eyes of a very perceptive tourist. It’s less about grand historical analysis and more about the texture of life: the food, the mud, the conversations, the sheer physical effort of travel back then.

Final Verdict

Perfect for armchair travelers, history lovers who enjoy primary sources, and anyone who likes a good, old-fashioned adventure tale. If you enjoy books that transport you completely to another time and place through personal experience, you’ll love this. It’s a forgotten classic of travel writing that deserves a new audience.