An easy 3 hour plane ride from Bangkok to Kolkata. During our journey through the North of Thailand we had run into a thick bearded cat named Justin from Georgia on different occasions in different places. As life would have it, he ended up on our plane to India. We spared no time in exiting the airport and getting ourselves out into the streets- hotter, busier and louder than Thailand. We hopped on a bus to Sudder Street, where guest houses our plenty. Walked around for a while looking for the best deal in the grittiest guest house and breathing in the new culture. The city was exploding with life on all levels. Traffic was fucking insane. People use their horns more excessively than any other country I've been to. The vibe flips like a coin from peace to madness and back again.
We finally settled on a forth floor dorm room house with at least 21 bunk-beds rammed together. I struck up an instant conversation with an old Swiss Jazz man who seemed down on his luck but was still crackin' jokes about the golden age. He had done it all, and had the photos to prove it. He enjoyed talking and I couldn't blame em' so I listened and laughed as much as I could.
Jon, Justin and I (Triple J) went out for food and met some other travelers at a small tea shop on the corner. I knew right away I would visit this spot every day as long as I was in the city. It was run by two young dudes, one of them deaf and very eccentric. Happier than most people with ears that work.
It was at this tea shop that I also met Chris, a 32 year old rock climber from California (most likely Humboldt). We only chatted for a short amount of time but the cat inspired me. He had the confidence of a man who knew his niche in life. He had taken the risks and opened as many doors as possible to do it, and now it seemed I was talking to a very centered and certain person who had things figured out pretty well.
The sky threatened a storm so we returned to our room and took a needed rest. In the evening the three of us went out looking for a drink. The difference of night and day in India is quite significant in terms of street activity and overall ethics. It was much less chaotic, but the individuals still out there were either looking for or offering drugs, woman or rides to clubs. After 3 tall Kingfisher beers each at a dimly lit tavern, we struck up a deal with a taxi driver who said he could take us to a place with cheap beer and girls. But he must have thought we said cheap girls and beer because he took us to an apartment where 3 middle aged Indian woman presented themselves proudly with hands on hips. When we explained our request further he said "Yes, yes, here are the girls, now how many beers are you wanting?" It took a while to get outta there but eventually we were back in the taxi, cruising while sharing beers and smoke before pulling the curtain on our first night in city with seemingly no limits.
Read Day 2
We finally settled on a forth floor dorm room house with at least 21 bunk-beds rammed together. I struck up an instant conversation with an old Swiss Jazz man who seemed down on his luck but was still crackin' jokes about the golden age. He had done it all, and had the photos to prove it. He enjoyed talking and I couldn't blame em' so I listened and laughed as much as I could.
Jon, Justin and I (Triple J) went out for food and met some other travelers at a small tea shop on the corner. I knew right away I would visit this spot every day as long as I was in the city. It was run by two young dudes, one of them deaf and very eccentric. Happier than most people with ears that work.
It was at this tea shop that I also met Chris, a 32 year old rock climber from California (most likely Humboldt). We only chatted for a short amount of time but the cat inspired me. He had the confidence of a man who knew his niche in life. He had taken the risks and opened as many doors as possible to do it, and now it seemed I was talking to a very centered and certain person who had things figured out pretty well.
The sky threatened a storm so we returned to our room and took a needed rest. In the evening the three of us went out looking for a drink. The difference of night and day in India is quite significant in terms of street activity and overall ethics. It was much less chaotic, but the individuals still out there were either looking for or offering drugs, woman or rides to clubs. After 3 tall Kingfisher beers each at a dimly lit tavern, we struck up a deal with a taxi driver who said he could take us to a place with cheap beer and girls. But he must have thought we said cheap girls and beer because he took us to an apartment where 3 middle aged Indian woman presented themselves proudly with hands on hips. When we explained our request further he said "Yes, yes, here are the girls, now how many beers are you wanting?" It took a while to get outta there but eventually we were back in the taxi, cruising while sharing beers and smoke before pulling the curtain on our first night in city with seemingly no limits.
Read Day 2
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