I spent a day tracking my expenses in the lovely town of Copan Ruinas. Prices here seem to be about average for much of Honduras, though the larger cities and islands are noticeably more expensive.

Room — I’m staying at the La Posada de Belssy, near the main square for $12 a night. For that I get a small clean room with fan, bathroom and a hot shower. Wifi is included and there’s a nice rooftop patio with hammocks and a good view. It’s a good value place to stay.

Food — Meals can get expensive here, relatively speaking. A plate at a sit-down cafe can cost $6-10 easily, which seems high when you’re only paying $12 for a hotel. I normally just grab coffee and a baleada (a huge soft taco with beans, cheese and sour cream) but today I woke up starving so I had the tipico breakfast at ViaVia, a popular backpacker cafe and hotel. For $6.50 I got 2 eggs, refried beans, fried plantains, cheese, avocado, tortillas and coffee. A 10% tip is the custom here and is included in that total.

For lunch, I just grabbed a baleada with beans and beef for $2 and had a orange/pineapple smoothie for $1.75. Dinner was a fantastic grilled beef plate from Carnitas Nia Lola for $7 — it was more than I could eat and could easily feed two. Honduran beers cost $1.50 at most places and I had a couple Salva Vidas as I watched the sunset.

Transport — Copan Ruinas is a small town so I really just walked everywhere. I did get caught in a rainstorm and grabbed a local tuk tuk taxi — they’ll run you just about anywhere in town for a buck. I did have one offer me a ride to the Copan site for $10, hoping I didn’t realize that it was only a 10 minute walk.

Bus trips around the country vary widely in price. Large, comfortable buses can carry you from the capitol, San Pedro Sula to Copan for about $6 if you’re willing to go without AC (keep in mind that this distance is about halfway across the country). For a cooler ride, you’ll have to go with the Hedman Alas luxury bus service and it will cost about four times as much. A 12-seater van service will take you to Antigua, Guatemala for $20 and 6 hours of your time.

Miscellaneous — There are tours and such available but I never seem to go for that sort of thing. The nearby ruins are $15 to visit and well worth the money, though I didn’t visit them on this day. Bottled water costs about $.75 a liter — ViaVia cafe will refills your bottles with filtered water for about 10 cents a refill, a nice service.

One expense I’ve trimmed from my budget is cigarettes. My friend Aisha is a hypnotherapist and was kind enough to gift me two sessions at Wellspring Hypnosis and Healing Arts. I always thought I was too stubborn and set in my ways for hypnosis to help but I can honestly say I walked out of her office a non-smoker. She’s based in Austin and has MP3′s available on her website — highly recommended if you’re trying to quit smoking or lose weight. I’m a believer.

All in all, I spent $33.25 for the whole day — not as cheap as I would like but not too bad. I could have easily cut $7-8 off that by eating more cheaply but after spending time on the island of Utila, where food was about 25% more expensive, I just couldn’t resist living it up a bit. There are a couple of hostels in town, too, where I could have saved another $5 on housing but I like having my own room and the view from the rooftop at the Belssy was quite lovely.

One of these days, I’m going to live it up and visit the modern Honolulu. Spectacular ocean views, views of the skyline and home to Iron Chef Morimoto’s new restaurant? Yes, please.

The Delight Guesthouse is really more of a boarding house that a true hotel. While it may not be the cheapest in all of Bombay, it’s certainly the cheapest I’ve been able to find in the popular Colaba district, where most rooms go for $20 a night or more. I’m paying $9, and as in most things in life, you usually get what you pay for.

The clientele here is mostly Indians or foreign business men who are working in Bombay long-term and need a cheap, safe place to sleep. Accessed by a small elevator, the entire fifth floor of a large building has been subdivided into tiny rooms and most are filled with single men or entire families crammed into tiny ‘doubles’ that are the size of a walk-in closet. The halls are less than three feet wide and are lined with narrow room doors spaced about six feet apart. As I walk to my room every night, I can’t help thinking of filing cabinets.

My room is small, smaller than any I’ve seen before. The door only opens about fifty percent of the way, blocked by the narrow bed, and entering is a tricky thing: I squeeze through the door, and then slide sideways into a small space at the foot of the bed so I can close the door behind me and reach the spacious foot-wide walk space between the bed and the wall. If I’m in a hurry, it’s faster just to fall onto the bed and kick the door shut with my foot.

The bed is a little wider than my shoulders and thinly-padded, but at least it’s long enough that my feet don’t hang off the edge. The walls are made of thin, painted pressboard but for the most part its a quiet crowd at the Delight — everyone makes an effort to get along. The fan is powerful and does a good job of cooling the room and blocking out ambient noise. I sleep like a baby every night.

I have a large, barred window that affords a view of Mumbai Harbor, if I press my forehead to the bars and peer between the myriad power lines draped across the side of the building.

I don’t realize at first what a luxury this is here — on my second night, a nice man from the room across the hall knocks on my door and asks when I’ll be checking out. He stays here for months at a time and I’m camped out in his favorite room — most don’t even have windows.

He’s very devout and each night I hear him through the thin walls, chanting his prayers in rapid-fire Hindi for hours at a time. Far from being annoyed by this, I find it relaxing and smile to myself each evening when he starts up.

The bathroom down the hall has two shower stalls, two western toilets, a single squat toilet and three working sinks. Timing is everything when using the restroom — try to go too early and there’s a line for the showers. Go too late and the toilets have been rendered uninhabitable by people who have tried squatting on the Western-style toilets and found that their aim isn’t quite up to the task.

The Delight sits at the far southern end of the touristed Colaba district and the neighborhood is a bit rough. I make it my morning ritual to have tea and samosas at a stall around the corner, but soon find that I’m attracting too much attention from the beggars and grifters. Of these, Abdul is the most annoying, always updating me on the state of his illness and asking for money. The first time we met, he was shaking and running a fever and asked for 50 rupees to pay for a doctor visit.

I had 30 on me and donated to the cause, but the next day he was back needing 80 for medicine. Today, it’s 160 rupees for cab fare to a free clinic across town. As I do my best to ignore him and enjoy my samosas, he launches into a detailed description of the horrible diarrhea that afflicts him.

I stop him and point to my food, but it takes him a moment to take the hint. “Oh, sorry,” he replies. “You finish eating, then I tell you more.” Great. Dinner and a show…

Several other beggars approach, asking for money, but Abdul jumps up and gets into a loud argument with them, essentially calling ‘dibs’ on this particular foreigner. While they’re shouting at each other, I sneak away to find a new breakfast hangout.

The neighborhood is crawling with phony holy men who insist on praying for me for good luck and tying a charm to my wrist. I fend several of them off, but finally relent with one particularly-insistent character, thinking I’ll be able to show to others that I’ve already paid my dues. He feeds me several small crystals of sugar, paints a yellow dot between my eyes, hands me a small orange flower and wraps a red string around my wrist several times while chanting.

After he’s finished, he asks for a donation and suggests that fifty rupees will bring me good luck. Fishing in my pocket, I find about eight rupees in change and hand it over. As he frowns, I explain that “this is all the luck I can afford”.

My plan doesn’t work in the end, unfortunately, as other holy men continue to hound me despite the wristband. I think it just shows that I’m an easy mark.

It isn’t all bad at the Delight, however — I’ve met some good people here, the nicest being Rakesh, a young man who’s worked here as a ‘boy’ for four years. His job involves doing pretty much anything that is needed for the guests and he stays busy, running out to buy beer and cigarettes for the clientele. The pay isn’t much, but tips make up for it.

He gets off work at 8pm and has made a habit of stopping by my room with a small bottle of Officer’s Choice whiskey, which we sip with water as we smoke cigarettes and stare out the window. He tells me about his life in his home village (where they still have no electricity) and laments the fact that his wife refuses to move from Bombay.

Tonight he warns me to close my windows at night. “Rats will come inside and steal things. They like shiny things.” “Are these big rats?” I ask, somewhat alarmed.

“Oh yes, very big. Maybe one foot long or more.” He smiles and adds, “But you should not worry about them.” Thanks. I wasn’t worried at all until you mentioned it.

He heads for home after an hour or so and I turn to my favorite feature in the room: the dimmer switch that controls the fan. When turned to max power, the fan roars into life, blades spinning at a speed that I’m half-convinced will tear the whole thing apart. It sounds and feels like a helicopter is taking off in the tiny room but it cools things down, keeps out the mosquitoes, and fills the space with white noise.

When I wake in the middle of the night, I like to look up at the thumping black blades in the thin city light and pretend –even if only for a moment– that my rescue has finally arrived.

As I was preparing for this trip, I was a bit shocked when I found out how much I would have to spend on vaccines. Even though I had insurance, a single shot for Yellow Fever was going to cost $140 (my HMO gave me a whopping $20 discount).

I’d be lucky to cover the basics for less than $500, which is about 2-3 weeks budget in, say, Laos. There had to be a better way.

Spending a little time online, I found that the Red Cross offered cheap immunizations in Bangkok, my first stop. So I got a free Tetanus stab, courtesy of my HMO, and saved the rest for later. In Bangkok, I found my way to the Queen Saovabha Memorial Institute –after wandering about lost for a good hour– and within thirty minutes, I walked out a happily-immunized traveler.

The process was easy: I filled out a very basic form and paid 20 baht ($.70) to be registered and have my blood pressure taken. Then I was sent to door #4, where a pleasant, English-speaking doctor consulted with me, asking where I was going and recommending vaccines. The consultation cost 50 baht. That’s right: for less than $2, I spent 5-10 minutes talking to a doctor. And I’m pretty sure he was a real doctor, because his handwriting was atrocious.

Door #2 was my next destination, where I paid for the vaccines and consultation/service, then headed back to the doctor’s office. A nurse carefully administered the shots, the assistant filled out my yellow card for my passport and I was a free man. No lollipop.

For less than $100, I got vaccinated against Yellow Fever, Typhoid, Hepatitis A, and Cholera.

Now, this isn’t necessarily a good solution for anyone traveling for a short period of time — some vaccines take awhile to take effect. But if you’re planning on traveling for a couple of months or more, a little research could save you some serious money.

Directions in Bangkok: The Memorial Institute sits at the intersection of Rama 4 and Henri Dunant Road, not far from Bangkok’s central shopping district. The easiest way to get there is to take the BTS Sky Train to the Siam stop. From there, it’s a 50 baht tuk tuk ride to the Institute — I had drivers quote me as much as 250 baht, but eventually found one for 50. Don’t bother asking for the Red Cross Center, as they’ll drop you off at the hospital next door and you’ll wander around aimlessly (voice of experience here).

The Institute has a snake farm right behind the main building — they raise the snakes to provide anti-venom and it’s become a bit of a tourist draw. Tell the driver you want to go to the Snake Farm on Rama 4 and he’ll drop you off right at the curb.

Queen Saovabha Memorial Institute, 1871 Rama 4 Road, Pathumwan, Bangkok 10330 (662) 252-0161-4

Happy (and safe) travels!

I spent a day tracking my expenses in the charming and quiet town of Champasak. Prices here seem to be about average for much of Laos, though the larger cities and popular spots are noticeably more expensive. Here’s the breakdown:

Room — Hotel rates vary widely throughout the country. I’m staying at the Souchitra Guesthouse on the Mekong River, in a basic room with a fan and bathroom for $6.25 per night (50,000 kip). The cheapest I’ve found was a $3.75 bungalow in Nong Khiaw and the most I’ve paid was $10.00 for a clean, basic room with wifi in Vientiane. $9.00 bought me a nice room with AC and cable TV in both Attapeu and Paksong. If you’re willing to share a bathroom, rates are about 20-30% less. A few of the larger towns have dorm rooms available.

Food — There’s a fairly large range in price depending upon whether you eat at a tourist/backpacker restaurant, a local restaurant/cafe, or on the street. The street is cheapest, of course, with a bowl of noodles or rice and vegetables costing $1.25. Main meals at local restaurants are usually in the $2-3 range, while more tourist-oriented places average $3-4 and up. A few nights ago, while celebrating our last night together with some friends, we each splurged on a pizza that set us back $7, and split a bottle of South African wine that cost a whopping $18.

For breakfast, I had a huge omelet for $1.50 and an iced coffee for $.50. Lunch was stir-fried noodles with chicken at a local cafe for $2.00 and a soda for $.50. Later in the day, I stopped at a stall for a coke for $.50 and picked up a spicy smoked Lao sausage for the same. Dinner was grilled fish with rice at local cafe for $3.00 and two big Beer Lao for $1.25 each.

Beer averages about $1.25 in most places, with some more remote places charging as little as a buck. They have any brand you like, so long as it’s Beer Laos. Lao lao, the potent locally-brewed whiskey, is a real bargain — a 750ml bottle usually costs $1.25 or less. The hangover is free!

Unfortunately, fifty cent packs of cigarettes make it incredibly hard to stop smoking. Markets usually have a large food section, where you can sample grilled meats for $.75 and other snacks or doughnuts for as little as 10 cents a pop. Handing a vendor a 5,000 kip note will often yield more food than you can eat.

Transport — Getting around town is pretty easy, with tuk tuks charging about $1.25 (10,000 kip) per kilometer (this is double what the locals pay and you can try haggling, but it rarely helps). Bicycle rentals are usually $1.25-$2.00 per day. Renting a scooter varies dramatically from town to town, with some places charging $7-$8 per day, while popular places, such as Luang Prabang asking $15 or more. Small towns with little competition can be tough — here in Champasak, a scooter rents for $12 a day.

Haggling is key here, if you are renting more than one bike or wanting it for multiple days. In Paksong, the going rate was $8.75 per day, but my friend and I talked them down to $4.50 because we were renting two bikes for a week.

Bus and boat transport in Laos can really tear up your budget. The latest Lonely Planet guidebook is three years old at this point and hotel prices have risen about 50% over what the book lists. Transport and tours have nearly doubled, however — I’d say that bus travel here is roughly 50% higher per kilometer than in neighboring countries. Often, the difference between a crowded local bus and an AC minibus is only 10-20%, so it pays to consider all of the options. A boat from Muang Khua to Nong Khiaw cost $15, nearly double the cost of the bus.

Miscellaneous — Tours are very pricey, compared to Thailand and Vietnam — a 6-hour tour of the Plain of Jars in Phonsavan cost $20 per person, while a 8-hour tour covering similar distances was only $9 in Vietnam. Tubing the river in Vang Vieng costs about $7, which includes a single $1.25 tuk tuk ride and a $1 tube rental — the farang tax here is pretty high for touristy activities.

Many sites, such as caves or waterfalls, have a small entry fee — usually $.50 or so. Some will try to double-dip, charging you for entering the site, then charging again for parking. The most I’ve paid was for $3.75 for the Wat Phu complex here in Champasak and it was worth every penny. Free wifi is pretty hard to find and you’ll often have to seek out a internet cafe for $.75-$2.00 per hour. If you do find a restaurant with free wifi, the food and drink prices are usually 40-50% higher than the average.

While not the incredible travel bargain that it may have been only five years ago, Laos is still an easy and inexpensive place to visit. But get here soon, because it’s growing up fast.

Just what does $4 buy you in Laos? I stayed in a truly basic bungalow in Nong Khiaw and, though it lacked most amenities, I enjoyed it so much that I stayed an extra day.

Another traveler had recommended the Bamboo Paradise Guesthouse, saying it was cheap and clean, but nothing fancy. For 30,000 kip ($3.75 US), I got a bamboo bungalow on stilts with a fan, my own bathroom, hot shower, a large bed, mosquito net, and a balcony with views of the Nam Ou below.

There were cheaper options: I checked out a room up the street that went for 20,000 kip per night, but it was just a small, windowless wooden box with a bed and a door. The rooms had one shared bathroom and no views or common area and there was no breeze. I passed on the sweat box — a balcony and bathroom seemed well worth the extra dollar.

There was plenty of room to move about and the bed was big, but hard — you could feel the springs under a thin layer of padding. I checked the pillows for a mint, but didn’t find anything. Mosquitoes weren’t a problem –surprisingly– and I never had to use the net.

A single florescent tube ran through a hole in the wall, providing weak light to both the room and the balcony — efficient, certainly, but dim. Nong Khiaw has only had full-time electricity for a few months, so I was grateful to have power at all.

Okay, so the bathroom was nothing to brag about. The walls were stained and there were no towels or tiny packets of shampoo. But, it had a flush toilet, was clean, and the hot shower worked — the water here in the mountains is pretty chilly in the morning. The step down from the main room was about 18″ and I nearly did a face-plant the first night. They should add “Adventure” to the hotel name and double the price.

The balcony made up for the bathroom and any other complaints I might have had. There was a cool breeze blowing up from the river and I could comfortably sit during the hottest part of the day and read or write. At night, there was no traffic to be heard and I would be lulled to sleep by the sounds of frogs and cicadas.

Then, I’d be woken the following morning by a monk who walked around with a drum at 5 am, chasing away the evil sleep spirits. Even the roosters hated him.

During the day, large colorful butterflies would land on my drying laundry. They were probably enjoying the salt I hadn’t managed to rinse out and I always had two or three of them to keep me company. Birds darted about, chasing each other through the banana trees and high grasses below.

The view was pretty nice. I could have paid more and found a guesthouse closer to the water, but I was quite content here. The river below was lovely and serene, but the limestone mountain that loomed above the town really stole the show. In the morning, it would be shrouded in thick, slowly-dissipating cloud and at night, it glowed in the moonlight. I could have watched it for days.

Actually, now that I think of it… that’s exactly what I did.