"Letters to Zerky, a Father's Legacy to a Lost Son and a Road Trip Around the Workl" is a travel memoir about driving a VW bus across Europe, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Nepal, Sikkim and Assam, in search of the legendary Burma road to China. with a baby and a dog. for more information got to http://www.LettersToZerky.com.
Bill gives an overview of the book:
Letter From Katmandu, Jan. 4, 1968, Nepal, Maps 4 & 5:
We are staying at the Paras Hotel, in downtown Katmandu. Our room costs fifty Nepali rupees a night, which at ten and a half to the dollar works to out to be $4.75 per night, including
four meals a day for your mother and me. You get cold Legume-Boeuf-Foie de Veau babyfood out of a jar. There is no heat in Katmandu, or at least so far we’ve not been able to find any. Our room drops below freezing each night and the days bring icy, hazeless blue skies filled with sunshine. Each morning we can barely wait for the sun to flood onto the tiny balcony outside our window, so we can go out and sit in the sun, which is our only source of heat except for
the daily bath. Our room doesn’t have a sit-down toilet, or a shower, or a bathtub, but for a few cents extra the room bearer will bring us up two buckets of luxurious warm water, both of
them lovingly heated on the kitchen stove downstairs. Then, for a few delightful minutes, your mother and I get warm in turn, as our own private bucket is slowly poured over each of
us by the other. This has become our daily get-warm ritual. But you, Zerky—you lucky dog—you fit in the bucket and get the only warm spot in the entire hotel! But then, unfortunately, like all good things that must come to an end, there comes that time when you need to get out of your bucket and get dried off. Teeth chattering, you cry and you wail, reminding us once again that, yes, your cold-hearted parents really should be taking better care of you, perhaps on some nice warm calm beach somewhere where the waves won’t keep knocking you down and your teeth won’t be chattering. And—Oh, I almost forgot—you don’t like the rats scampering about our room at night either. I have been trying to get your dog Tarzan to do something about this problem, but he just keeps on telling me that’s not his purpose."
Grew up on the Great Plains, moved to the Olympic Penninsula, where I learned to love mountains and boats; Reed College 1954-56, where I learned Greeks; Beatnik in North Beach 1957-67, where I learned to love my first wife and get into "show-biz" as a motion picture...