November 2005: Into India’s Wild East

Exploring Calcutta & Simlipal National Park on a Two-Week Trip Through India, Bangladesh, and Bhutan

As part of a larger two-week adventure across Bhutan, Bangladesh, and eastern India, a friend and I dove deep into the bustling energy of Calcutta and ventured into the untouched wilderness of Simlipal National Park in Orissa State—one of the least-visited corners of India. What followed was a journey full of contrasts: urban chaos, colonial charm, and remote jungles rarely seen by outsiders.

Day 1–2: Arrival in Calcutta

We arrived in Calcutta (Kolkata) at 5:45 PM, immediately greeted by the city’s characteristic chaos—honking rickshaws, colonial facades, street vendors, and a relentless buzz of life. We checked into a hotel and spent the evening exploring the city’s crowded lanes, savoring the first taste of Indian street food and its colonial-meets-modern energy. The next morning, we departed for Bhutan, the next leg of our journey.

Day 3: Bhutan to Balasore via Calcutta

After a week in the serene mountain kingdom of Bhutan, we returned to Calcutta on a late morning flight (11:15 AM). Upon arrival, we were whisked off to Kolkata Railway Station, where we boarded a train bound for Balasore at 3:25 PM, arriving around 7:25 PM.

From Balasore, we were transferred to our lodge—Aranya Niwas, located near the edge of Simlipal National Park. That evening, we took a jungle hike near the hotel, our first introduction to the wild, forested heart of Orissa.

Day 4: Deep in Simlipal National Park

We spent the full day exploring Simlipal National Park—a vast and rarely visited reserve home to dense forest, waterfalls, wildlife, and echoes of forgotten royal hunting grounds.

Our jeep safaris took us to:

Barheipani & Joranda waterfalls – thunderous and hidden deep in the jungle
Gudu Gudia – a serene spot ideal for bird watching
Chahala – the site of the former hunting lodge of the Maharaja of Mayurbhanj
Salt pits – a surprising hotspot for wildlife viewing, attracting animals from across the park

We returned to Aranya Niwas for a second night, surrounded by jungle sounds under the stars.

Day 5: One Last Safari and Return to Calcutta

Our final morning in Simlipal was spent on another early safari, hoping for more wildlife sightings as the mist lifted from the forest floor. After lunch, we were transferred back to Balasore Railway Station to catch the 3:50 PM train to Calcutta.

That evening, we returned to the city, dusty and tired, but filled with stories from a park few travelers ever see.

Day 6: Onward to Bangladesh

We left early in the morning for the Benapole border, heading into Bangladesh to continue our cross-border adventure through South Asia.

Day 7–8: Return to Calcutta and Departure

After a week in Bangladesh, we returned once again to Calcutta. We spent our final night back in the city before departing the next day, bringing this wild and diverse journey to a close.

Simlipal National Park

The Chaos and Allure of Calcutta

A City Every Traveler Should Experience—At Least Once

Every traveler should experience a city like Calcutta at least once. It’s not easy, and it’s certainly not relaxing, but few places on Earth hit the senses—and the soul—with such unapologetic force.

We arrived in Calcutta and found ourselves immediately swallowed by the city’s relentless crush of life. Our taxi couldn’t even reach our hotel. The streets were too congested—teeming with people, cows, rickshaws, and even monkeys. So we were dropped off at a street corner and had to walk the final blocks on foot, navigating a dizzying maze of honking horns, crumbling buildings, and open-air food stalls.

A Full-Body Assault on the Senses

Calcutta wasn’t just chaotic—it was an assault on all five senses. The heat was oppressive, the noise ceaseless, the air thick with incense, sweat, diesel fumes, and decay. The sights were overwhelming: vibrant saris, towering colonial ruins, endless traffic, beggars, and barefoot children playing cricket with sticks.

There was poverty everywhere, a level of desperation so deep it settled into the bones of the city. At one point, we were told that bodies sometimes remained on the streets for days before being collected. People here lived on the razor’s edge of survival, and it was painfully evident that life, in many corners of the city, was held on by threads.

A Hotel with Fewer Cockroaches Than the Rest

The hotel hunt was bleak. After visiting a few options, we finally settled on the one with the fewest cockroaches inside—a victory of sorts. Our room was spartan and hot, the window opening to a cacophony of honking horns, shouting vendors, and the ever-present buzz of humanity.

We could only handle the city in small bursts—venturing out for one-hour increments, returning each time physically drained. Yet there was something about the madness that kept pulling us back out.

Not Beautiful, But Unforgettable

Calcutta was not beautiful in the traditional sense. It was gritty, raw, and overwhelming. But it was also utterly fascinating—a city of deep history, relentless energy, and the kind of authenticity that seasoned travelers crave.

This wasn’t the India of curated palace tours or pristine beaches. This was India at its most visceral. And in a strange way, that’s what I came for.

Funeral procession in the streets as family members carried a dead body

A small altar to a Hindu God, a common sight on the dash of all taxi cars

Rickshaw driver carrying a group of men through the streets.

Through the Flooded Streets on Human Foot Power

One of the most striking—and controversial—sights in Calcutta is the hand-pulled rickshaw. Though technically banned due to its perceived inhumanity and degrading nature, the practice still persists, especially in the older parts of the city. Rickshaw pullers, often barefoot and wiry, carry passengers on foot through the chaos, hauling wooden carts with metal wheels and weathered seats behind them.

The city may frown on it, but for many of these men, it’s their only means of survival. We saw rickshaws everywhere, usually transporting multiple passengers or goods through alleyways too narrow for vehicles.

During one particularly heavy rainstorm, the city began to flood—water pooling ankle-deep in the streets, paralyzing cars and motorbikes. Ironically, the rickshaw pullers became the most efficient way to get around. Like many others, we reluctantly hired one, letting him carry us through the flooded streets, his feet slapping through the water as rain poured down.

It was a moment that felt both practical and ethically complicated. We were grateful to reach our hotel dry, but also deeply aware of the weight—literally and figuratively—carried by the man pulling us. Calcutta doesn’t hide the hard truths of human endurance, and this was just one more reminder of its complex, unfiltered reality.

Into the Forgotten Forest: Simlipal National Park

Tigers, Tribes, and Waterfalls in Remote Orissa

I chose Simlipal National Park for a reason. Nestled deep in the heart of Orissa State, it leapt off the pages of my travel guide and refused to let go. A vast forest of Sal trees, Simlipal is home to tribal villages and a historically high population of tigers, though few travelers make it out this far. That isolation, its wildness, was exactly what drew me in.

Off the Grid: The Journey into the Park

To reach the park, I organized the logistics through a local fixer in Calcutta. He helped us book a train ticket from the city, which dropped us in a small, dusty town near the park’s edge. From there, a pre-arranged driver met us at the station and brought us deep into the reserve.

Our accommodation was humble—a basic forest bungalow managed by the reserve authorities. It was quiet, surrounded by jungle, with little more than a creaky fan, a mosquito net, and the soundtrack of the forest outside our door.

In Search of Tigers and Hidden Beauty

By day, we set out in a jeep to explore the park, scanning the trails and forest clearings for signs of tigers and bears. While we didn’t spot any big cats, we saw plenty of sambar deer grazing through the undergrowth.

Even without the predator sightings, the park revealed its magic through stunning waterfalls, including one where we could actually swim beneath the falls, surrounded by lush forest and the occasional monkey watching from above.

Encounters with the Tribal Heart of Simlipal

Perhaps the most fascinating part of the trip wasn’t the wildlife—it was the people. Scattered across the park are tribal villages, home to communities who’ve lived in the forest for generations. On the surface, they might resemble rural villagers from elsewhere in India, but their customs, languages, and traditions are distinct.

Visiting one of these villages felt like entering a parallel world—modest homes made of mud and thatch, children playing barefoot, and elders who still speak in indigenous dialects, wear traditional jewelry, and live closely tied to the land.

Rural streets

Road construction done by hand from cheap village labor

Simlipal National Park wildlife

Waterfalls

Waterfall

A sacred waterfall we swam in next to a cave dedicated to the Hindu monkey God

Simlipal National Park wildlife

Me being attacked by frisky sambar deer

Our bathroom in our bungalow-shoes highly recommended

A Rare Encounter: Meeting the Tribes of Simlipal

One of the most memorable parts of our time in Simlipal was spending a full day with the tribal communities who live within the park boundaries. These villages are tucked deep in the forest, far from paved roads and well outside the reach of mass tourism. Foreigners are a rare sight here, and our presence drew wide-eyed stares, cautious curiosity, and eventually, warm smiles.

We visited a local school, where a room full of children gathered around us, eager and excited. Through our guide’s translation, we taught them about San Diego, sharing photos and stories from our home. They were fascinated—by the ocean, the skyline, even the concept of a place so far removed from their jungle world. Their questions were full of wonder, and their laughter echoed in the classroom like music.

Later, we were welcomed into several village homes, where we had the chance to observe daily life. Cooking over open fires, families sitting on floors woven from reeds, elders wearing traditional jewelry—every detail felt like a window into a world that exists quietly, hidden from modernity.

For us, it was a beautiful cultural exchange. For them, it was a surprising moment in their day-to-day rhythm. And for both sides, it was a reminder of how human connection transcends geography.

Tribal village of Orissa

November 2015: Returning to Calcutta, a City Changed

A Decade Later, A Familiar Chaos with a Modern Face

Ten years after my first encounter with Calcutta, I returned—this time with my girlfriend Paula—as part of another extended journey through India. I wasn’t sure what to expect. My first visit in 2005 had left a deep impression: a city of unrelenting chaos, raw poverty, and overwhelming sensory overload.

This time, Calcutta felt different.

The city still had its madness, still throbbed with color, crowds, and life—but it was noticeably more modern and organized. The poverty was still there, but not as staggering or desperate as I had remembered. I heard that some of the worst slums had been relocated, though whether for better or worse, I couldn’t say.

Sacred Shores of the Ganges

One afternoon, Paula and I explored some of Calcutta’s Hindu temples nestled along the banks of the Ganges River. The air was thick with incense, chants, and the hum of spiritual devotion. Priests blessed pilgrims with red powder, and families bathed along the river’s edge in ritual purification.

It was a different side of Calcutta than the one I remembered—a city still full of contrasts, but also of resilience and quiet beauty. For Paula, it was all new. For me, it was both nostalgia and discovery, layered together.

Ganges River

Dakshineswar Kali Temple built in 1847

Worshippers kissing the Cobra idol

Paula at the Dakshineswar Kali Temple

Dakshineswar Kali Temple builtin 1847

Experiencing the Madness of Calcutta and the Tribes and Wildlife of Similipal National Park in Orissa