A Budget Traveler's Daily Journal of His Solo Adventures Through Asia

By Jim Moehlenbrock

This daily journal reveals what it is like to travel into foreign countries without knowing anyone in those countries and not knowing their languages while traveling alone and while not being a part of any tour group. The journal answers many questions about why anyone would want to travel solo and how you can make it a positive experience. You might even feel confident enough to try traveling that way yourself. Read the journal and see if you can picture yourself filling in for me. I bet you can.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Proisle Publishing Services
• Release date: May 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9781960224996

Book preview

June 20, 1976, Sunday, USA

It is the evening before my morning flight. My backpack is packed except for the last-minute morning things.

My friend, Jack, called this evening after 9 P.M. inviting me over. He was wishing me luck.

I know my past travel experiences will help me make a successful venture out of this one where there are risks of possibly being mugged, losing important items, or developing health problems. Yet, I don’t have these fears. Still yet, it does take a strong initial step to leave an area where one feels comfortable.

From age 25 through 27, I taught math at Zweibrucken American High School in Germany for the U.S. Department of Defense (DOD). During that time, I had purchased an old car and used it to travel to more than thirty countries in western and eastern Europe, so I had developed some experience in travel, and it was already in my blood to continue traveling. For this trip, at age 30, I will simply fly to India and go from there with no real itinerary.

The trip will be refreshing, seeing new life styles, seeing differences in others that are accepted and my being truly accepted when there are many differences – religious, racial, nationality, clothing, cultural, and economic differences.

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21 June 1976 Monday (USA)

My 11:20 morning flight was 35 minutes late, but I did get to sit next to a window. Two businessmen were sitting next to me from Charlotte after the hurried transfer, and since I didn’t have the chance to go to the bathroom in Charlotte, I had to crawl over them. They said Don’t try that again. Nice start!

From LaGuardia, I helicoptered to JFK. Bombay flight 102 was to leave at 8:45 P.M. It was after 11 P.M. before we boarded and 2:15 A.M. before we got off due to a traffic control strike in Canada.

I sat next to a young wealthy Indian who was the wife of a doctor. Both were in their 20’s. She talked about her $160,000 home in New Jersey and her ’76 Oldsmobile and his wanting to buy a Mercedes Benz.

I got off in London where I photographed the Concord. In Paris, we stayed on the plane and watched armed soldiers on roof tops. I got off in Rome where machine-gunned soldiers were posted at 50-foot intervals and the airstrip was aligned with tanks.

I was flying on an Air India 747 and I never saw its outside until I had arrived in London.

At JFK and throughout the stopovers, I talked with a medical doctor, who was a professor of surgery, and his four high school girls and wife. He was interested in a position at Columbia, SC as Chairman of the Department of Surgery. He was from Denver, Colorado.

Also, I enjoyed my visit with an Indian couple and their 14-year-old son. He was a doctor of food science and she had several degrees. Very interesting!

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Wednesday 23 June 1976

We were originally scheduled to arrive in Bombay at 3:15 A.M. Wednesday and connect with a flight to Calcutta at 4:15. We arrived, however, in Bombay at 9:30 A.M.

Since my connecting flight was missed and the next flight was at 1915 hours, Air India bused me to the only five-star luxury hotel in Bombay with two expensive food vouchers. I ate all I could for lunch with Ellen (a mission’s-major student) and an Indian girl. I then took a nap and had an early supper of steak and then was bussed to the airport – all courtesy of Air India.

From the bus window I could see women carrying full baskets on their heads. General appearance of Bombay reminded me a lot of Morocco. The flight to Calcutta arrived there at 10:15 P.M. Wednesday. A Denver doctor and his wife were staying in Airport Hotel at $20 a bed. They didn’t think it was wise for me to go into town alone looking for an "India on $5 and $10 a Day" hotel, but I decided to go anyway.

I caught a bus for RS7 (84 cents) and rode for miles into town seeing hordes of people late at night in the streets and sidewalks, sleeping in the middle of sidewalks, and sleeping on store shelves. The bus driver drove with the side doors open. When he stopped, kids would jump on free and ride until a passenger got off and a kid would get off with that person wanting to carry the baggage.

One passenger told me he would tell me where the hotel I requested was. Later, he said Get off here and go down this side street and you’ll see it two streets down.

As soon as I got off, an Indian came up to me and wanted to carry my backpack. I thanked him but told him I wanted to carry it myself. Another one, pulling a rickshaw, wanted me to get in. No thank you.

I saw men urinating along sidewalks, lying here and there, some looking gleefully up at me with a hand out for money. A rickshaw man walked alongside me asking softly if I wanted a pretty woman – young about 14-years-old to sleep with me. I told him I was tired and wanted to get some sleep. You can – she sleep with you. I just said No thank you – not tonight. (Not tomorrow night, either, as far as that goes.)

I finally found the hotel with a big front gate slightly open with a big dog lying inside. Hesitantly, I went inside and found the office and got an air-conditioned room with private bath with breakfast for RS60 ($7.20) plus 10%.

In preparing to go to bed, my eye caught this great big something scoot across the floor. I wondered what might be in the bed. I climbed in the short bed, turned off the lights and ten minutes later a weird insect noise started getting slightly louder and louder as if it might be getting closer. I turned on the lights and the noise stopped. I turned the light off and it started again. I finally accepted the insect noise and went to sleep.

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24 June 1976 Thursday (Calcutta)

Breakfast was cornflakes already in a bowl and milk and banana, fried eggs, hot meat, tea, milk and bread and two more bananas. A cold glass of water sat there tempting me, and I was thirsty, but didn’t yield.

I spent the whole day walking the downtown sidewalks with my camera. I saw workers building a subway who were dressed in only a one-piece towel-like thing between their legs and around their waists while carrying baskets full of dirt on their heads. They got paid roughly about RS 5 a day (60 cents).

I spent several hours at the tourist office where I saw different films on India. Janakiram, who worked there, helped route my travels throughout India. Then he and a girl guide and I went to the hospital to visit her sister who had had surgery.

I was asked if I were a writer. I said Yes! I told him I was interested in the people from the very rich to the very poor. He suggested I take a bus tour the next morning and on Saturday take a car tour with a guide for RS140 for six hours ($16.80) to see the city, the leprosy colony, the slums and the wealth of Calcutta. He let me read an article a Frenchman had written for a magazine about Calcutta and it was one sided – only the bad. He hoped I would see both.

I didn’t have any lunch Thursday. I applied for my permit to go to Darjeeling and after 4 P.M. I had a beer with Janakiran. I ate just a little at my hotel that evening. Food was too spicy and I wasn’t hungry. That was supper.

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June 1976 Friday (Calcutta)

Friday morning, I took a bus tour to several temples. One other young American, John, from North Dakoda was on the bus. He had been away from home for two years. He worked for a church order as a missions’ teacher.

After the morning ride I walked to the Oasis and had a non-spiced rice curry meal with tea and eight glasses of water. A fan blew on the back of my head the whole time. It was the best meal I had in Calcutta and the water was boiled – then chilled.

On the walk, I also went to the American Consulate and got Delane Ramsey’s phone number and hotel room number and total program schedule, as he was in India on a Fulbright Scholarship.

I went back to my hotel and took an hour’s nap. Then I went for a walk and met a Thai looking fellow who wanted to buy US dollars for a better rate than I could get from a bank. He had such an open face and likeable personality. I chatted with him awhile and left. Later, I thought it would be nice to buy his supper and he could tell me something about Calcutta. I saw him again along with his commission payer and we agreed to meet at 6 P.M. We met and ate at a Chinese restaurant. By 8 P.M. I wasn’t feeling well and left the two to go back to my hotel. I hadn’t eaten all the chicken chow mien as I wasn’t hungry. Something else was strange. After all that I drank for lunch I hadn’t urinated once and had no calling to.

I went to bed at 8:30, since I was scheduled to take my car tour Saturday.

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26 June 1976 Saturday (Calcutta)

At 3:15 in the morning I got up to go to the toilet and sat down and it was like a fire-hydrant turned on full blast. Diarrhea! A few minutes later I vomited. Every hour I was throwing up and sitting down. By daylight, I was so weak I couldn’t walk to the bathroom without holding onto the walls. I was dehydrating and I had a fever. I took two diarrhea pills, but I couldn’t keep them in long enough to do any good. I would throw up anything that went down.

I called the hotel office to call the tourist office to cancel my car tour. They didn’t deliver the massage and at 9:00 they were at the hotel to pick me up. They called my room from the hotel office and I told them I was sick and after hanging up I threw up again.

Janakiran came over during his lunch break and called a couple of doctors who were both out for lunch. He left and after 4 P.M. he came back with some medicine. By this time my stomach was terribly weak and unsettled, my diarrhea was as bad as ever, and my fever was worse. I had a headache, sore eyes, sore neck and feeling very weak. I called Delane Ramsey and he asked me if I wanted their hotel doctor to come over. I told him to wait about that.

I took the medicine Janakiran had brought me. It was settling my stomach and I went to sleep.

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27 June 1976 Sunday (Calcutta)

The next morning, I woke up with diarrhea, headache, sore eyes, sore neck, sore stomach muscles, and some fever, but I was not throwing up. I had eaten nothing on Saturday and one and a half bananas on Sunday. But Sunday night, I was feeling a little stronger.

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28 June 1976 Monday (Calcutta)

Monday morning, I had breakfast and afterwards, Jarakiram called and asked if we could have lunch together. I was glad to have lunch with him and paid for his and mine. Later, I picked up the permit for Darjeeling.

After that, I went to the Grand Hotel and saw Ramsey and had supper with his group. It was very entertaining with John doing his magic tricks. I ate Filet Mignon with vegetables, soup, and ice cream for RS 44 (about $5). Today’s exchange rate was $1=RS 8.9. I slept really well that night.

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29 June 1976 Tuesday (Calcutta)

On Tuesday, I went to the train booking office for a ticket and reservation to Darjeeling. The 407-mile train ride second class was costing RS41.25 (less than $5). Then I went back to the Grand Hotel and ate an Indian style buffet for RS32 ($3.60).

I enjoyed being with the fun group. Afterwards, I went with Edna to the Calcutta open market and inspected many beautiful wood carvings.

It was nearly time to catch my train, so I walked out of the Grand Hotel with my backpack and asked a taxi how much to take me to Sealach Station. He said RS15. I said that was too much and walked away and two blocks from there I got a taxi for RS5.

It was a long way to the train station where I found my train car with a small section of it reserved for tourists. There were seven of us. Two were Australian missionaries in Bangladesh, one was French, two Japanese, and one other American backpacker besides me. The seats converted to beds and mine was the shortest so the missionary lady kindly swapped with me. The seats were wooden with no cushions and each made into a non-cushioned bed – just wood.

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30 June 1976 Wednesday (Darjeeling)

We left at 1915 hours Tuesday and stayed on the train until 0715 hours on Wednesday. When we got to New Jalpaiguri (NJP) there was a connecting toy train nearly ready to leave, but it was packed and had several passengers riding on top of the train. The other American got on. No one else made it. So, the French fellow decided to take the bus to Darjeeling, India which takes four hours. The missionary couple thought it over and decided to go by bus, too. I was going to go with them, but I was with too few Rupees to pay the bus fare and nowhere at the station was there anyone who would cash a Travelers Check.

The next train was to leave at 0815 hours and I decided to take that one regardless of how crowded it was, even if I had to ride on top. But I was pretty well determined I was going to get in. The Japanese couple was with me.

When it approached the loading area people swarmed toward it – free for all. I got into one and thirty seconds later I was told I was in a reserved area. I didn’t have a reserved seat for that toy train.

With everybody barging through the doorways, we somehow managed to get out and the Japanese fellow found a compartment at the end of a coach the others hadn’t gotten to, yet, so he opened a small window and climbed inside and we handed him our luggage. Then we got in through a door.

The train climbed to more than 7,000 feet in the Himalayas, but an avalanche had occurred covering the tracks so we waited for workers to clear it. It was very slow travel since the locomotive was a steam engine and had to stop for water fill-ups several places along the way. It took twelve hours to go the 56 miles to Darjeeling where I found a nice place with a room with paneled walls and western toilet for RS5 (56 cents) per person. I had a private room. Throughout the train trip, I bought peanuts and bread from local vendors and I drank tea.

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1 July 1976 Thursday (Darjeeling)

I stayed in bed through the 4:00 sunrise over the Himalayan peaks. When I did get up, I went to the western toilet and felt a lot better, afterwards. Then I took a shower – the coldest shower since Kemi, Finland (where I had traveled last summer).

One thing I’ve noticed in leaving Calcutta and heading further north in India is that the Indian people, kids especially, appear happier, friendlier, and more attractive and even better dressed. They also seem healthier and cleaner, showing more pride in the attractiveness of their simple houses.

I had lunch today with three cups of tea. Lunch was vegetable chow mien and cost RS4.45 (50 cents). I ate with a fellow from Ohio and one from France.

I walked this afternoon up very steep hills and saw enormous valleys and the great heights of the Himalayas. Still, however, the peaks cannot be seen for the clouds and overcast and occasional rain.

I bought a very nice colorful umbrella –the best the store had for RS35 ($3.85). The temperature is very pleasant – long sleeve shirt weather.

I ate supper in a rather elite place with white table cloths and waiters dressed in white uniforms with ten-inch wide belts. They looked like people from Tibet. The place catered to the wealthier people of Darjeeling. By South Carolina standards, however, the place would have looked real country with its pink painted walls. I had an excellent cream of mushroom soup – nothing like Campbell’s – for RS2 ($.23) and an abundance of mixed vegetables with rice and a thin omelet spread over it. I had tea and bread and mixed fruit with cream for dessert.

I had asked for water that had been boiled and then chilled. I must have left that chilled part off, as he brought us two glasses of very hot water. The waiter must have thought we had a strange appetite. I was dinning with the fellow from Ohio. I had met him on the train from Calcutta. He’s a very interesting person in that he’s been away from USA for more than two years travelling in Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, Australia, NZ, Antarctica, South Pole, and India. He worked in New Zealand about six months and answered an ad for the need of a cook to accompany an expedition in the Antarctic. He got the job and was paid US$250 a week for two months. He’s got a BA degree and is my age. He was in the national guard for six years and thinks he’ll just continue travelling after a visit home in Ohio in November. He and I do lots together because it’s been so long since he’s been around a western person, especially an American.

Very seldom does one see anyone from America or even Europe in this part of the world. He surprises me as to how well he’s adjusted to the Eastern way of life. He uses the Eastern toilets (squatters) using no toilet paper. I’m going to have to soon, as my toilet paper is almost out. He eats with chop sticks, likes the highly seasoned foods and wears sandals. He’s got a beard that hasn’t seen a razor in one-and-a-half years.

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2 July 1976 Friday (Darjeeling)

It’s been raining all night and all morning. Yesterday, I went to the tourist office to inquire about how to get to Kathmandu. It takes more than three days by mixture of trains and buses to get there. It takes one day to get to a point where I could fly for $12, but the plane only flies on Wednesdays and Fridays. So, I just missed the Friday chance.

I would leave by land-travel today, but I would have to change money when entering Nepal and tomorrow is Saturday. They may not change money on Saturday or Sunday and I would rather stay here than be marooned at some border without accommodations. My plan once I get to Kathmandu, Nepal is to fly from there to Bangkok.

After some figuring with a time schedule, it looks as if I’m going to have to skip Nepal altogether. The weather would prevent me from seeing the mountain peaks, anyway. It also looks as if Indonesia will have to be skipped if I’m to have time to visit the mission field in Bangladesh and to visit Kashmir. I should really allow one whole summer for Indonesia.

My stay in this charming town of Darjeeling is costing about $3 per day and that’s eating awfully well in the best restaurants. Today, I had corn and chicken soup, fillet steak (mutton), a pot of tea, two breads, and another pot of tea – all for RS11.45 (about $1.30). This evening my meal was RS6.24 ($.70). I ate with Steve Sugar again. My private room is only Rs 5 ($.55).

The town has so many very steep terraces with the church tower clock aglow at night and in the fog. Curvy roads and kids with sharp colorful outfits with ties and women with their brightly colored silk saris add to the charm of this Himalayan village.

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3 July 1976 Saturday (Darjeeling)

I got up and went down to the street early with my camera to capture some of the cute children as they walk to school. As soon as I got down there a white cupped beggar started in my direction. Seeing my camera, he knows I have money and others see the situation and wonder why I don’t give money, either. So, I left without one picture on record – just in my mind. It’s too much overcast to use my zoom lens.

For breakfast, I had a pot of tea, an omelet, and French toast with syrup for Rs 3.40 ($.38). Later, I went to the open market with Steve and we bought a whole pineapple and brought it to a restaurant and ate it and drank a pot of tea. The pineapple costs Rs2 ($.23). It was very juicy and tasty.

Looking down from the balcony, I can see a barber on the sidewalk cutting hair and someone else shaving another person as the passersby carry on.

Tonight, Steve and I plan to go to a movie and then eat out. We have to carry our umbrellas nearly every time we go out, as the rains come gradually, but without much forewarning.

Jeeps abound here. Actually, there are not many vehicles here at all, but the vehicles that are here are Jeeps and a few motorcycles.

There is a Buddhist temple in town, but there are many signs indicating Christianity has touched here, too. There are Bibles in the book shops – even Good News for Modern Man. I even saw where someone had written on the side of his house: God is Love. Scripture verses are seen scattered thinly here in Darjeeling as well as in Calcutta.

Today, I cashed $150 into Indian Rs1326. The exchange rate was $1=Rs8.84. It had been 8.9 in Calcutta and then 8.88. It’s fluctuating daily.

Steve and I went to an Indian movie beginning at 9 P.M. and the theater was packed. The person sitting behind me I’m sure could not see a thing, so Steve and I swapped with two persons on the back row. The language was Hindi and we couldn’t understand any of it. We left at Intermission. The movie cost Rs4.40 ($.49).

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4 July 1976 Sunday (Darjeeling, India)

Today is the Fourth of July and it’s raining this morning – rather hard. In the early afternoon, I’m to catch a bus for a five-hour ride to New Jalpaiguri where I am to catch a train to Calcutta. Then, I’m to fly to Bangkok Monday afternoon if I have reservations. I just learned the bus only goes to Siliguri – five Km from New Jalpaiguri. I don’t know how I’m to go the five Km, maybe by rickshaw.

I asked for reservations here in Darjeeling at the Indian Airways office last Friday for Monday and Tuesday, but they can’t telephone for it, so they have to send a message to Calcutta by bus and train and we wouldn’t hear whether reservations were made until Monday at the earliest and I should already be gone by that time.

I’m supposed to meet Steve Sugar in Kashmir between 5-15 August. He’s supposed to have bought a prayer bead made of water buffalo bone. It’s a carving. I paid him Rs20 from which to bargain. The shop is closed or I’d get it.

I bought my bus ticket and asked if I could have a seat with a lot of leg room. The driver gave me the choicest seat in the whole bus. The seat was next to the windshield left and front of the driver. The driver’s seat is on the right-hand side, since he drives on the left as in England.

The clouds were lifting and the sun was coming out and the Himalayan heights were magnificent. The bus had its maximum plus about fifteen additional passengers. It was an interesting four-hour trip to New Jalpaiguri.

In New Jalpaiguri, I went to the booking office and stood behind a large gathering of Indians waiting to book for the Calcutta trip when the booking officer spotted me way in the back. He motioned to me to come around and into a No Admittance door where I was given a ticket ahead of the crowd. Then I had to get a sleeping birth at another window and again I was taken ahead of the crowd.

On the train, I chatted with the only two other westerners I saw. They were from Australia. She, Hilary, was twenty-one years old and was going to be teaching in a primary school in India. She gave me her address. She was a charming person. Her friend’s name was David.

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5 July 1976 Monday (Calcutta)

We arrived in Calcutta having talked a lot with a pre-medical Indian student who asked for my address. The Australians and I had breakfast together at the train station and then took a taxi to the tourist office where I saw Janakiram who told me to go to the SAS and Thai International Office where I could get my ticket.

While there, he wouldn’t accept my money from Travelers Checks I had cashed in Darjeeling. I had misplaced the bank receipt. I had to cash $140 in Travelers Checks again from the bank and then return to the Thai Office to pay for my Bangkok ticket. My plane was to leave at 1:25 and it was already 12:00. After getting the ticket I paid Rs2 to a taxi driver to take me to the Tourist Office where my backpack was and asked him to wait.

He did and off we were to the airport some 50 Km away in lots of traffic. We made it, with his superb driving, at 12:40. I rushed into the airport terminal, got my baggage checked and at customs I was asked how many Rs I had. I had Rs 1400.

I couldn’t leave the country with that much. So, I went to the airport bank to get it exchanged to Thai money. They asked for the bank receipt which I didn’t have. They wouldn’t exchange my money. Then, I went to one of the officials and he wrote me a receipt for Rs1400 for which I had to give him the money, and I would get the money back at the Thai office in Calcutta when I returned.

I then rushed to get on the plane and sat next to a window beside a Columbia Bible College graduate who was with the Wycliffe Bible Translators in the Philippines having been transferred from Nepal.

While getting into the plane the Thai stewardess gave me the Soi da Ca greeting just as I bumped my head on the plane door facing. She was so sorry. She gave me two glasses of wine along with a delicious meal of Filet Mignon, asparagus, beans, potatoes, etc. Excellent eating! The CBC guy had orange juice while I enjoyed my wine following my having told him I was a former Ben Lippen student. He resumed his Bible reading after eating.

I made it through customs without my baggage being checked and to the Privacy Hotel which cost 88 Baht ($3.50). I called the Rex Hotel fellow whose brother said he remembered me from 1972.

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6 July 1976 Tuesday (Bangkok)

My breakfast of