Kolkata on a Rupee and a Prayer: A Messy Travelogue

kolkata's humidity hit me like a wet blanket the moment i stepped out of sealdah station. i'd read that the city was steeped in history, but no one told me it was also steeped in sweat. i checked my phone: temp 27.95°c, feels like 30.44°c, humidity 69%. i shrugged-how bad could it be? ten minutes in, i was a sweaty mess, my shirt plastered to my back. the air smelled of diesel, frying fish, jasmine, and something rotting in a gutter. welcome to kolkata, i muttered, as i flagged down a yellow taxi that smelled like a mix of incense and old shoes.

i'm on a shoestring budget from a tiny college in delhi, so every rupee counts. i'm shacked up in a dorm at a hostel near college street for 300 rupees a night. the fan creaks, the mattress is springy, and the guy above me snores like a freight train. but i'm here for the chaos, not luxury. if you're looking for five-star hotels, skip this post.

the city spreads out like a messy collage of crumbling colonial buildings, bustling bazaars, and neon signs that flicker on at dusk. i've spent days getting lost on purpose, turning down alleys that reek of frying fish and jasmine garlands. i've seen hand-pulled rickshaws-still a thing here-competing with swanky cars, and trams that clang their way through the city like moving museums. someone told me that the trams might be scrapped soon, so i hopped on one just to say i did. it was slow, it was hot, but it was cheap-5 rupees for a ticket. i even took a photo of the driver, an old man with a white beard who looked like he'd been driving that tram since before independence.

i'm a bit of a history nerd (call me a dork), so i geeked out at the victoria memorial. that huge white marble mausoleum glows in the sun, but the surrounding garden is a mess of beggars, stray dogs, and couples taking selfies. i sat on a bench for an hour just watching the world go by. i overheard a tour guide say that the memorial was built for queen victoria, but the indians added their own touch-the surrounding lawns now host political rallies and kite festivals. i also prowled the streets of old kolkata, past crumbling havelis with peeling paint that used to belong to zamindars. one old man sitting on a charpoy warned me, 'beta, don't go into that lane after dark. the ghosts of the bengali renaissance still haunt it, and also there are rats the size of cats.' i laughed, but i took his advice and turned around. i later heard from a waiter at the indian coffee house that the lane is actually where the city's first printing press was hidden during the freedom struggle. ghosts indeed.

food is where the budget student lives or dies. i've been surviving on roughly 100 rupees a day: a kathi roll from a stall near college street (30 rupees), a bowl of aloo dum from a street vendor (20 rupees), and endless cups of chai (8 rupees each). i've got a mental list of must-eats: the fish curry at 'bhojan' (but it's closed on mondays), the mishti doi at 'mishti doi corner' (the best i've had, though the shopkeeper is grumpy), and the kochuri at 'kalika' that's so spicy it clears your sinuses for a week. i read on a reddit thread called r/kolkatafood that a hidden gem called 'adda' serves the best egg chop, but you have to know the secret knock. i tried to find it, but i got lost and ended up at 'college street canteen' which was decent. still, i'm hunting. i also rely on yelp for ratings: kolkata street food guide on yelp lists some spots i've checked out. for more, i've bookmarked tripadvisor's cheap eats. and for the latest buzz, i follow the kolkata food subreddit. those links saved me from eating the same thing every day.

i also did a day trip to the sunderbans. it's about a three-hour drive south, but the mangroves are a whole different world. the air felt cooler, the water brackish, and we saw a spotted deer from the boat. that's when i realized how exhausted i was from the city heat. i came back re-energized, if only for a day.

back in the city, the humidity doesn't let up. i've learned to carry a handkerchief, wear loose cotton, and drink water like it's my job. i heard someone complain that during summer the 'feels like' temperature can go above 40°c, but i'm here in this 27.95°c weather and already dying. maybe i'm just a northerner who can't handle the east. i've also heard that the city's drainage system can't handle the monsoon, so when it rains, whole streets flood. i'm lucky it's not rainy season.

as a broke student, i've mastered the art of free stuff: the museum has free entry on tuesdays, the botanical garden costs 20 rupees, and i've spent hours just walking the ghats, watching fishermen mend nets. i've met other travelers in my hostel: a german guy doing a documentary on kolkata's street art, a japanese woman researching kolkata's tram system, and an american kid who says he's here to 'find himself' and then got scammed by a taxi driver. classic.

i've captured a few moments on my cheap phone. here's a glimpse:

so that's kolkata so far: a city that smells like a thousand spices, looks like a faded painting, and feels like a wet hug that won't let go. i'm still here, still broke, still sweating, but i wouldn't trade it for air conditioning. maybe tomorrow i'll try that haunted lane. just kidding. maybe.

if you're planning a trip, remember: pack light clothes, bring water, and keep an open mind. and if you get bored, darjeeling's tea gardens are just a four-hour drive away-you can escape the heat for a while.

kolkata?

Kolkata on a Rupee and a Prayer: A Messy Travelogue

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About the author: Chloe Weaver

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