The Offline Backpacking Travel Guide for India

Discover 91 must-see places in India, routes, costs and safety tips. All highlights plotted on a map. Verified for 2026 travel. Registered Dutch Business (KvK: 99855925).

Move constantly through cities, villages, mountains, and forests, experiencing culture, chaos, and diverse landscapes for adventurous, curious travelers.

Travelers navigating vibrant contrasts of culture and scale

On arrival, lock in three non‑negotiables: time is elastic, small change is leverage, and unless a price is printed, you negotiate. This isn’t cynicism; it’s the operating system. Accept it and the country shifts from chaos to choreography.

India’s draw is scale and soul: temple bells and train whistles, cardamom steam and monsoon dust, centuries of artistry wrapped around street-level improvisation. You chase dawn on a Ladakh ridge while prayer flags snap in the wind, then ride a night train that turns into a rolling neighborhood of chai, bunk gossip, and samosas passed down the aisle. Forts in Rajasthan read like stone memoirs; a Ganges sunrise in Varanasi feels like the world catching its breath; a backwater canoe in Kerala slides past coconut shade and slow-cooked curries; a tiger in Kanha is a whisper in tall grass that spikes your pulse for days. Mumbai throws flavor like confetti, Munnar smells like tea and rain, Hampi looks like a myth you can touch. Challenges exist: heat that melts resolve by noon, vendors who test your boundaries, stomachs that object to bravado, and train quotas that punish last‑minute plans. You counter by booking long-hauls early, grabbing a local SIM at the airport, carrying a filter bottle and oral rehydration, taking big sights at dawn, and treating “commission shops” as entertainment rather than obligation. Each small solve earns you better conversations, fair prices, and the quiet corners everyone else rushes past. I once missed a train and followed the brass band from a wedding instead; it was the better journey.

Compared with Nepal’s measured mountain rhythm, India is louder and broader, swapping pure peaks for everything-at-once. Sri Lanka is gentler and compact; Bhutan is curated and pricey; Pakistan’s north is epic but logistically heavier; Bangladesh offers big-hearted warmth with lighter infrastructure. India is for travelers who want maximal return on curiosity per day, who can trade precision for presence and find humor in the shuffle. If you like your trips tidy, look elsewhere; if you like them alive, start here.

Varanasi

Ghats, cremation fires, winding alleys

Jaipur

Pink facades, palace complexes, gemstone bazaars

Udaipur

Lake palaces, whitewashed lanes, rooftop cafés

Agra

Taj Mahal, Mughal tombs, river views

Delhi

Red Fort, street food lanes, Mughal gardens

Jaisalmer

sandstone fort, desert vistas, camel safaris

Hampi

boulder fields, temple ruins, riverside sunsets

Pushkar

sacred lake, temple ghats, annual fair

McLeod Ganj

Tibetan enclave, monastery life, mountain views

Mahabalipuram

rock-cut temples, shore monuments, stone carving

Khajjiar

alpine meadows, cedar forests, high-altitude lake

Gulmarg

alpine meadows, gondola rides, winter snowfields

Dharamkot

forest trails, yoga retreats, mountain cafés

Taj Mahal

white marble dome, reflecting pool, symmetrical gardens

Golden Temple

sacred pool, gilded sanctum, community kitchen

Ajanta Caves

rock-cut monasteries, Buddhist murals, ancient frescoes

Ellora Caves

multi-faith temples, basalt cliffs, monolithic carvings

Khajuraho

erotic sculpture, sandstone temples, Chandela dynasty

Jim Corbett National Park

river valleys, Sal forest, wild elephants

Kaziranga National Park

flooded grasslands, one-horned rhino, wild buffalo

Ranthambore National Park

ruined fort, dry scrub forest, tiger sightings

Bandhavgarh National Park

steep ridges, ancient fort, high tiger density

Kanha National Park

meadow clearings, Barasingha deer, bamboo forest

Goechala Trek

high-altitude pass, Kanchenjunga views, rhododendron forests

Markha Valley

Ladakh villages, river crossings, barren mountains

Chadar Trek

frozen river, Ladakh winter, ice caves

Hampta Pass

crossover pass, contrasting valleys, river crossings

Pin Parvati Pass

glacial crossings, Spiti landscapes, remote villages

Radhanagar Beach

white sand, turquoise water, forest backdrop

Varkala Beach

red cliffs, mineral springs, yoga retreats

Gokarna

temple town, cliff trails, laid-back coves

Kovalam Beach

lighthouse views, crescent bays, fishing boats

Anjuna Beach

rocky headlands, flea market, trance scene

Qutub Minar Complex

red sandstone minaret, ruined mosque, ancient inscriptions

Red Fort

red sandstone walls, Mughal palaces, ceremonial gates

Amer Fort

hilltop ramparts, mirrored halls, Rajput courtyards

Mehrangarh Fort

clifftop fortress, museum galleries, blue city views

Jaisalmer Fort

sandstone bastions, living fort, desert vistas

Holi

Colored powders, water splashing, street revelry

Kumbh Mela

Mass pilgrimage, river confluence, sadhus

Diwali

Oil lamps, fireworks, sweet exchanges

Pushkar Camel Fair

Camel trading, livestock contests, desert carnival

Durga Puja

Clay idols, pandal displays, Bengali cuisine

Goa

coastal villages, seafood markets, Portuguese-era streets

Kerala Backwaters

canal networks, houseboats, village life

Himachal Pradesh and the Himalayas

mountain hamlets, apple orchards, Buddhist monasteries

Ladakh and the Trans-Himalayan region

high-altitude deserts, Buddhist stupas, salt lakes

Rajasthan

desert forts, painted havelis, stepwells

India rewards hikers who respect its scale. In one trip you can cross Ladakh’s wind-burned passes, climb through Sikkim’s rhododendron belts toward Kanchenjunga, and wake in Uttarakhand meadows that explode with first light. The payoff is real; the gotchas are too, and dodging them saves your legs and your budget.

Build two buffer days—landslides happen. Aim post-monsoon (Sep–Oct) for Himachal, Uttarakhand, Sikkim; save July–Aug for Ladakh. India is not Nepal: beyond a few day hikes (Triund, Kedarkantha), you’ll camp or use homestays—budget for mandatory guides on some routes (Goecha La), forest entry fees, and mules priced per kilo. Carry cash; ATMs thin out fast.

Permits aren’t drama if you prep: Inner Line for Ladakh, Protected Area for Sikkim; passport copies and spare photos shave hours. Pro tip: leech socks in the Western Ghats during rains—cheap insurance.

I’ve stood on the 4 a.m. ridge at Sandakphu and watched Everest, Lhotse, Makalu, and Kanchenjunga line up in hard, clean air. That’s what you’re protecting your energy for.

India rewards architecture hunters who can handle heat, lines, and the occasional rule that makes no sense until you’re inside the courtyard. You get rock-cut audacity at Ellora, mathematical calm at Humayun’s Tomb, gopurams that look like living mountains in Madurai, desert geometry in Jaisalmer, and modernist swagger in Chandigarh and Kahn’s IIM Ahmedabad—all in one loop.

Budget guardrail: foreigner ticket prices run higher; plan for it and buy ASI e‑tickets to skip queues. Tripods are often banned or taxed; drones are a hard no near monuments. Temples mean shoes off and sometimes no leather; carry thin socks or you’ll learn how hot stone gets in April.

Pro tip: see Hampi at dawn by bicycle, when the boulders glow and you have Vijayanagara colonnades to yourself. I do Humayun’s at opening bell, then sit under a neem tree and watch the light pull the red sandstone into focus. Taj is closed to tourists on Fridays; don’t burn a day getting that wrong. In Jaipur, skip the elephant rides to Amber and take the shared jeep; cheaper, faster, and you’re not complicit.

India feeds you if you show up smart. The country’s kitchen runs from smoke-stained tandoors in Old Delhi to coconut-slick breakfasts in Tamil Nadu, from charcoal kebabs in Lucknow to pepper-cracked fish curry in Kerala. It’s loud, cheap by global standards, and deeply regional, so every train ride tastes different.

Guard your gut and your rupees. Eat where the line is long and the wok never rests. Hot off the flame beats anything sitting under glass. Skip ice, raw salads, and sketchy chutneys; ask for “thoda kam mirchi” if you want the heat dialed down. I carry ORS packets and hand sanitizer; that’s saved more days than any medicine.

Pro tip: hit Chandni Chowk at 7 a.m. for jalebi at Jalebi Wala, then roll to Karim’s for kebabs before crowds pile in. In Chennai, chase fluffy idlis and filter coffee at sunrise; morning turnover means fresh batter. In Mumbai, Dadar vada pav is a fist-sized lesson in speed and value. Don’t over-order—portions run big, and sauces are bottomless. Street vendors don’t expect tips; round up and move on. Save your splurge for one serious biryani in Hyderabad. It’s worth it.

India pays off if you respect its friction. The reward isn’t just temples; it’s the chai-wallah who remembers your order, the drumline that hijacks a lane, the monastery where the wind does half the chanting.

Protect your energy. Pick one region and move slow. Distances lie; a “200 km” bus can eat a day. Trains are your backbone—book 3AC sleeper weeks ahead; Tatkal opens the day before and vanishes in minutes. Night buses save a room but cost recovery time on bad roads.

Protect your budget. Foreign monument fees are real; decide which forts and museums you’ll actually study, not sprint through. Festivals spike prices; either book well ahead or pivot to the next district.

Protect your gut. Eat where the line is long and the oil is hot. Peel your fruit. Carry ORS and a filter bottle; water costs add up. Don’t bank on mobile payments; carry small notes, ATMs run dry outside cities.

Permits exist (Arunachal, Nagaland, parts of Sikkim). Bring passport photos, patience. Pro tip: prepaid taxi counters at airports and major stations save you from “special price” welcomes.

I earned my best day sharing a jeep across Spiti: thin air, thin road, fat silence. Worth every slow mile I didn’t waste elsewhere.

India rewards the traveler who works for it. Slow down, eat where workers eat, ride trains instead of planes, and your daily spend stays in the low-to-mid double digits (USD). Keep it simple and you can push the low end without feeling deprived.

Where the savings live: thalis in canteens, dosa joints near bus stands, and station chai that’s hot, safe, and cheap because turnover is relentless. Overnight sleeper-class trains move you across states and replace a hotel night—book a lower berth, chain your bag, sleep hard. Buses are even cheaper, but only worth it for short hops.

Avoid the gotchas that bleed a budget. Big sights use dual pricing; add camera fees and lockers to your mental total. ATMs charge per pull—withdraw more, less often, and carry small bills for rickshaws. Ask for “all-in price” at hotels; taxes and “service” appear at checkout. Prepaid auto stands beat street haggles. Bring a filter bottle or UV pen and stop buying plastic water.

Personal win: in Tamil Nadu, I lived on crisp dosas and overnight trains for a week and spent less than I would on one Friday night out back home.

Most travelers need a visa to visit India. You can apply for an e-Visa online through the official Indian e-Visa website. Check the website for eligibility and ensure your passport has at least six months’ validity.

The sweet spot for backpacking India is mid‑February to mid‑March, with a secondary window of late September to late October if you dodge the Diwali week. Here’s why: winter holiday inflation has deflated by February, trains and decent guesthouses have space again, the north’s killer fog eases, Rajasthan is warm without frying you, Kerala’s backwaters aren’t a steam room yet, and low-altitude hikes in the Himalaya start to reopen. Wildlife parks are still open and sightings improve as water sources shrink, without the furnace of April. The post‑monsoon shoulder (late Sep–Oct) gives you clean air, green hills, full waterfalls, and prices that haven’t climbed to December levels—just avoid festival spikes that fill beds and jack fares.

Peak (Dec–Jan on the plains; May–June in hill stations): You’ll fight for rooms, pay holiday rates, and queue for everything. Go anyway if you want winter’s crisp Varanasi dawn—oars slicing the Ganges while ash settles on cold water—or that blue, high-clarity air in Himachal. In summer, the hills and Manali–Shimla toy train turn into a moving crowd, but cool nights and deodar forests can reset a fried brain. You earn the high by absorbing the grind; budget for it or skip it.
Shoulder (Feb–Mar and late Sep–Oct): India loosens its jaw. Trains release berths, shop shutters rise, trekking tea houses sweep out damp mats, beach shacks repaint and reopen. You move faster with fewer negotiations. This is where kilometers stretch cheaper and your patience lasts longer. Crowd anomaly: October is deceptively busy around Durga Puja/Diwali, especially in Kolkata and Rajasthan—book those weeks or slide your dates.
Monsoon/Extreme (Jun–Sep, plus the furnace of Apr–May): The country turns inward. Rice fields glow, lanes smell of wet earth, and you get long, empty museum rooms and quiet ghats. Rains wash roads; landslides clip Himalayan buses; coastal ferries pause. Survival hack: travel at first light when storms stall, stash a roll‑top dry bag for your pack liner, wear quick‑dry synthetics, and sip ORS salts; in the pre‑monsoon heat, start before sunrise, nap at noon behind thick walls, and ride AC sleeper trains instead of buses.
High‑Altitude Window (Ladakh/Zanskar Jul–Aug): While the rest of India steams, the trans‑Himalaya opens. It’s a magnet—expect scarce beds in Leh and surge‑priced taxis—but the payoff is walking past prayer flags cracking in thin air and moon‑yellow rivers under big skies. Book jeeps and permits early or you hemorrhage time in queues.

My tactical move: for any intercity overnighter during shoulder months, I lock a 3A/SL berth two to four weeks out—before Tatkal day—so I keep my cash and my sleep instead of paying surcharges and riding a folding seat.

Varanasi Ghats at Dawn: The river breathes before sunrise—bells, low chants, smoke from sandalwood pyres drifting into your clothes. Hire a shared wooden boat from Assi before first light; it’s calmer and usually a third the price of the hard-sell motorboats near Dashashwamedh. Don’t photograph cremations; it’s not edgy, it’s disrespectful, and you’ll get chased off. Keep small notes for chai and tips, and wear sandals you don’t love—you’ll step on wet stone slick with river grit. Evenings pack hard for the aarti; guard your pockets and watch for fake “official guide” badges that look convincing in the half-dark.

Hampi’s Ruins and Boulders: Rust-red granite, palmyra shadows, ruins stitched between boulder hills that glow like coals at sunset. Start before the sun gets mean; after 10 a.m., the heat chews through your energy and your will to explore. Cross the river early—last ferries can stop without notice and the detour is long. Rent a simple bike and carry water; distances look short on the map and feel endless under a white sky. At Vitthala Temple, skip the queue for the “perfect photo” and listen—the stone corridors trap your footsteps with a low, dry echo. Monkeys will unzip your bag faster than you can say “banana.”

Taj Mahal, Agra: Marble that drinks the first light and hands it back, softer. Arrive 45 minutes before gates open; the difference between front-row quiet and tour-bus chaos is that small. Closed on Fridays—don’t learn that the hard way at 5 a.m. Keep your bag minimal; food, tripods, and anything that looks like a drone will get you turned around. Shoe covers come with the foreign ticket; use them or go barefoot and feel the marble cold under your arches. Guides swarm at both gates; if you hire one, agree the route and duration upfront or you’ll speed-walk through history. Mehtab Bagh gives a cheaper sunset view across the river.

Ladakh’s Monasteries and High Passes: The air is thinner than your excuses, and the mountains don’t care—you acclimatize or you sit down and wheeze. Land in Leh and give yourself 48 hours of slow walking, water, and no alcohol; skip this and you’ll pay for it on Khardung La. Permits are required for Nubra and Pangong; handle paperwork in town before you chase the horizon. Buses are rare and weather doesn’t read your itinerary; keep a spare day. Bring cash—ATMs sulk in storms. Prayer flags snap like whipcracks, butter tea leaves a slick on your tongue, and the wind will peel the moisture from your lips in one hour flat.

Kerala Backwaters, Alleppey: Canals like green hallways, kingfishers strafing the water, and the slow creak of oars that puts the day on mute. Skip the oversized diesel houseboats unless you want fumes, markup, and a fixed menu of views; a small shikara or canoe buys you silence and back lanes for a fraction of the price. Start early to dodge midday glare and bring repellent—mosquitoes aren’t shy. Ask how trash and greywater are handled; you’re paying for the environment, not just the ride. You’ll smell wood smoke, curry leaves frying for breakfast, and the brackish edge of the lagoon. For quieter edges, consider Spiti’s high monasteries, Dholavira’s Harappan ruins, or Assam’s Majuli island; my personal favorite is Spiti for the way silence rings like a bell at dusk.

Republic Day — 26 January. Fixed date every year. Central and state government offices, many banks and schools close. Major parades in New Delhi cause road closures and high-security measures; allow extra time for airport/train transfers and book travel early if visiting Delhi.

Independence Day — 15 August. Fixed date every year. Flag-hoisting events and official programmes take place nationwide; central and state offices and many businesses close. Expect crowds at public ceremonies and possible altered transport schedules, so avoid city-center travel during morning events.

Gandhi Jayanti — 2 October. Fixed date every year. Memorial events at Raj Ghat and institutional observances occur across the country; government offices and many schools close. Plan administrative tasks and official appointments on other days to avoid disruption.

This 30-day route is for travelers who want the big India arc: classic north Indian cities, desert forts, Himalayan trekking, and a lush southern finish, moving at a steady but not frantic pace with a mix of trains, a few domestic flights, and some scenic road journeys. It’s designed for people who like variety—temples one week, mountains the next, backwaters after that—without stacking exhausting travel days back-to-back.
Days 1–4: Delhi and Agra – empires and marble
Start with three nights in Delhi to ease into the country and its history, using the metro and auto-rickshaws to bounce between Old Delhi’s lanes around the Red Fort and the more spacious New Delhi districts. Make time for the Qutub Minar Complex to see the early stonework that prefigures so much of what you’ll see later, and add either the Lotus Temple or Akshardham Temple for a modern spiritual contrast. On day four, take a short train to Agra and stay two nights, giving yourself a sunrise at the Taj Mahal, a deep wander through Agra Fort, and a half-day trip out to Fatehpur Sikri before you swing west into Rajasthan.
Days 5–10: Jaipur and Pushkar – palaces and holy lakes
Travel overland to Jaipur for four nights, using the city as your base for Rajput architecture and bazaar wandering. Dedicate a full day to Amer Fort, another to the City Palace and Hawa Mahal, and keep time free for street food, textiles, and just watching the city’s rhythm from a rooftop. Then head a few hours away to Pushkar for two nights, trading urban energy for a compact pilgrimage town wrapped around a holy lake; here the pace slows, with sunrise walks around the ghats and mellow evenings in cafes before you push deeper into the desert.
Days 11–15: Jodhpur and Jaisalmer – blue city to desert citadel
Continue to Jodhpur for two nights, where the main event is Mehrangarh Fort, a fortress so commanding it almost feels like a separate city above the blue houses below. Spend a full day exploring its ramparts and museums, then wander the old town’s stepwells and markets before catching a train or car west to Jaisalmer. Three nights in Jaisalmer lets you really sink into the atmosphere of the Jaisalmer Fort, a living citadel of golden stone, and still have time for a desert excursion into the dunes and a slow day of rooftop lounging and haveli-hopping before you loop back toward the plains and the mountains beyond.
Days 16–20: Rishikesh and the Himalaya – river rituals and trekking
From Rajasthan, connect via Delhi to reach Rishikesh, where three nights gives you a gentle re-entry into nature: Ganges-side walks, yoga classes, and evenings watching the aarti with the hills rising behind the ashrams. Use your time here to adjust to the idea of altitude and slower days, then travel on into the mountains for a multi-day trek in the Himachal Pradesh and th

Question: Get your own 2025 guide book for India

Answer: The TakeYourBackpack guidebooks are your all-in-one travel companion, featuring the best cities, national parks, hikes, beaches, and unique sites, along with essential tips on when to go, how to get around, exchanging money, and even local phrases to get you started — everything you need for a smooth, unforgettable backpacking adventure.

Question: How do I find the best and cheapest places to stay in India?

Answer: Personal tip: I normally search on good rating for atmosphere (for meeting people) and location (for easy exploring). Cleanliness as a bonus.

Question: Do I need vaccinations to visit India?

Answer: Hepatitis A and B vaccines are recommended for most travelers to India. Typhoid vaccine is advised, especially if you plan to visit rural areas or eat street food. Consider a rabies vaccine if you’ll be interacting with animals or exploring remote locations. Japanese encephalitis is recommended if you plan to stay for an extended period in rural areas. Routine vaccines like MMR (measles, mumps, rubella), DPT (diphtheria, pertussis, tetanus), and polio should be up to date. Always consult with a healthcare provider for personal advice.

Question: What are the best SIM cards and internet options in India?

Answer:
When I first started traveling, I often spent part of my first day in a new country hunting for a local SIM card. While this can still be slightly cheaper, it also takes time and planning.

These days, it's much simpler to install an eSIM before leaving home. Once you arrive in India, you can activate it immediately and have mobile data from the moment you land — which is especially useful for ordering transport or navigating away from busy airports.

There are many providers nowadays, and price differences are usually small. I personally go with Airalo, as it offers excellent network coverage throughout the country and strong global coverage, so you can manage multiple countries from a single app.

Question: What are the cultural norms and etiquette in India for travelers?

Answer: Touching with the left hand is considered unclean, so try to use your right hand for eating or handing over items. Remove shoes when entering homes or temples. Dress conservatively; women should cover shoulders and knees. Public displays of affection are frowned upon. For LGBTQ+ travelers, public openness about sexuality is not common; be discreet for safety. Women should avoid traveling alone at night and consider using women-only areas on public transport. Always negotiate taxi fares in advance or use metered options.

Question: What food should I try in India?

Answer:
Trying traditional food is always a great way to experience the culture. Here are some must-try dishes for India.
Biryani: A fragrant rice dish cooked with aromatic spices and either chicken, mutton, or vegetables. Originating from Mughal kitchens, it’s a festival on a plate, celebrated for its rich, layered flavors.

Butter Chicken: Also known as Murgh Makhani, this dish features tender chicken pieces simmered in a creamy tomato sauce. It’s a staple in Indian cuisine, bridging the gap between traditional tastes and global appeal.

Masala Dosa: A thin, crispy pancake made from fermented rice and lentil batter, filled with spicy mashed potatoes. Hailing from South India, it’s a breakfast favorite that’s both filling and flavorful.

Chole Bhature: A spicy, tangy chickpea curry served with deep-fried bread. Popular in North India, it’s a hearty dish that’s perfect for those who love bold flavors.

Rogan Josh: A staple of Kashmiri cuisine, this aromatic lamb curry is slow-cooked with a blend of spices and yogurt. It’s known for its rich color and deep, warming flavors.

Pani Puri: A street food classic, these are hollow, crispy puris filled with spicy, tangy water, potatoes, and chickpeas. It’s an explosion of flavors and a must-try for any foodie.

Paneer Tikka: Cubes of paneer (cottage cheese) marinated in spices and grilled to perfection. It’s a popular vegetarian dish that showcases the versatility of Indian spices.

Question: Is the tap water safe to drink in India?

Answer: Most locals in India drink tap water, but it’s not recommended for tourists due to varying water quality standards. Stick to bottled or filtered water to avoid the risk of stomach issues. Always check that bottled water is sealed before purchasing.

Question: Can you get by with English in India?

Answer:
The main language in India is Hindi. Backpacking is way more rewarding if you know a bit of the local language, so I'd suggest brushing up on the basics just in case your Hindi skills have become a bit rusty.

English is widely spoken in India, serving as an associate official language alongside Hindi. It is commonly used in urban areas, major cities, and among educated populations. In metropolitan regions like Mumbai, Delhi, and Bangalore, English is prevalent in business, education, and media, making communication relatively easy for travelers.

In rural areas, however, proficiency in English may decline, with local languages taking precedence. Many Indians, especially those in the hospitality and tourism sectors, can communicate effectively in English, catering to the needs of international visitors.

While most people can understand basic English, accents and regional variations may pose challenges. Travelers may encounter varying levels of fluency, but overall, English serves as a useful bridge for communication across diverse linguistic landscapes in India.

In summary, English is a valuable tool for navigating India, especially in urban settings, though it’s beneficial to learn a few phrases in local languages to enhance interactions and show respect for the culture.

Question: What is the local currency in India?

Answer: The local currency of India is INR (₹).

Question: How do I get cash or use cards in India?

Answer:
If you’re backpacking in India, here’s the lowdown on money matters. ATMs are pretty widespread in cities and towns, but rural areas might leave you high and dry. Always have some cash stashed away for emergencies. Indian Rupees (INR) are the go-to, and while dollars and euros are handy for initial exchanges, you’ll want local currency for day-to-day expenses.

Cards are becoming more accepted in urban centers, especially in restaurants and hotels, but cash is still king for local markets and small vendors. When exchanging money, avoid airport booths if you can—terrible rates and fees. Opt for a local bank or a reputable exchange service in town. A quick tip: keep an eye on your bank charges for international ATM withdrawals; they can add up quickly. A little planning goes a long way in keeping your trip budget-friendly.

Question: What is the tipping culture in India?

Answer: Tipping in India isn’t obligatory but appreciated. In restaurants, leaving around 5-10% of the bill is common if a service charge isn’t included. For smaller services like porters or housekeepers, a tip of 20-50 INR is usually sufficient.


The Offline Backpacking Travel Guide for Indonesia

Discover 91 must-see places in Indonesia, routes, costs and safety tips. All highlights plotted on a map. Verified for 2026 travel. Registered Dutch Business (KvK: 99855925).

Island-hop through volcanic landscapes, tropical forests, and bustling towns, moving naturally with local customs, ocean tides, and vibrant culture across the archipelago.

Johan Kruseman (90+ countries since 1996)

Island adventurers exploring diverse landscapes and cultures

Off-the-beaten-path backpacking budget-friendly adventure culture nature hiking beaches cities towns villages transport costs scams history phrases

Ride the public boat from Jakarta’s Muara Angke to Pulau Pari and camp on sugar‑fine sand for less than your airport coffee. It’s the capital’s easiest escape to clear water and grilled fish on paper plates—no resort markup, just sea breeze and a rented tent. More importantly, it teaches Indonesia’s rhythm: ferries, patience, and simple rewards earned with small effort.

Travel here works best when you move with intent. Beat the sunrise to watch Mt. Bromo’s caldera glow, then ride a motorbike past clove trees to Ijen’s electric crater; trade the crowd’s tripod forest for a side ridge and you’ll hear the volcano breathe. In Yogyakarta, skip staged dinners and follow the clang of real gamelan into a neighborhood pendopo; batik smells like warm wax and time slows under shadow-puppet light. On Sumatra’s edge at Bukit Lawang, a humid climb puts you eye‑level with orangutans—your legs will complain, your grin won’t. In Flores, warungs ladle smoky ikan bakar and sambal that wakes your bones before you jump with manta rays off Komodo; on Sulawesi, buffalo bells and soaring tongkonan roofs turn a market day in Tana Toraja into living heritage. Java hums at prayer, clove smoke and kretek mingle with the hiss of street woks, and every ferry deck becomes a classroom in how this archipelago connects.

Yes, Bali’s surf towns gouge prices and scooter traffic crawls; temple fees stack up, dawn tours crowd viewpoints, plastic sometimes rides the tide, and delays stretch a “three-hour” hop into an all-day shuffle. But here, friction polishes the experience. Early alarms sharpen the light; the long boat teaches patience; choosing alley warungs over big-name cafés saves cash and starts conversations. The miles you earn make the country feel like yours.

Compared with Thailand’s polished tourist circuit, Malaysia’s tidy infrastructure, or the Philippines’ English-easy island hops, Indonesia asks more of your legs and your planning—and pays you back with deeper texture and wilder variety. Come if you’re the backpacker who likes to move, to sweat for big views, to trade convenience for character, and to let a ferry timetable—not an app—set the day.

Yogyakarta

royal palace, batik workshops, street art

Denpasar

Balinese capital, Hindu temples, urban beaches

Jakarta

megacity, skyscrapers, street food

Kuta

surf beaches, nightlife strips, street markets

Surabaya

port city, colonial remnants, Arab quarter

Ubud

art galleries, rice paddies, wellness retreats

Senggigi

beachfront strips, sunset bars, Lombok gateway

Maumere

bay views, weaving villages, post-earthquake rebuild

Ruteng

rice terraces, cool highlands, Manggarai culture

Tenganan

walled village, double ikat, Bali Aga customs

Borobodur

stone reliefs, Buddhist stupas, sunrise panorama

Prambanan Temple Compounds

Hindu spires, stone reliefs, temple complex

Lake Toba

volcanic caldera, Samosir Island, Batak villages

Labuan Cermin Lake

dual-layer waters, glassy surface, forested shore

Kota Tua Jakarta

colonial facades, cobbled square, street museums

Komodo National Park

Komodo dragons, savanna hills, pink sand beaches

Bromo Tengger Semeru National Park

volcanic calderas, Tenggerese villages, sunrise viewpoints

Bunaken Marine Park

coral walls, sea turtles, North Sulawesi reefs

Gunung Leuser National Park

orangutan habitat, dense rainforest, Sumatran elephants

Tanjung Puting National Park

peat swamp forest, orangutan research, riverboat journeys

Mount Rinjani

high-altitude crater lake, steep ascent, hot springs

Mount Bromo

sea of sand, smoking caldera, Tengger culture

Ijen Crater

sulfur mine, turquoise lake, blue flames

Kelimutu

tri-colored lakes, volcanic summit, remote Flores

Gunung Semeru

active volcano, ash plain, summit crater

Nihiwatu Beach

private resort, world-class surf, Sumba island

Gili Trawangan

party scene, dive shops, sunset bars

Pink Beach

rosy sand, shallow reefs, Komodo proximity

Karimunjawa Islands

coral reefs, island hopping, clear lagoons

Gili Air

snorkel spots, relaxed pace, no motor vehicles

Borobudur Temple Compounds

Buddhist stupas, stone reliefs, sunrise panorama

Uluwatu Temple

clifftop shrine, ocean panorama, Kecak dance

Tanah Lot Temple

sea temple, tidal rock, sunset views

Besakih Great Temple

mother temple, sacred courtyards, panoramic views

Tirta Empul Temple

spring-fed pools, ritual bathing, Balinese architecture

Nyepi Festival

day of silence, empty streets, ogoh-ogoh effigies

Bali Arts Festival

Balinese dance, handicraft exhibitions, open-air stages

Dieng Culture Festival

mountain sunrise, dreadlock-cutting ritual, volcanic plateau

Pasola Festival

horseback jousting, Sumba rituals, spear games

Bau Nyale Festival

sea worm harvest, Lombok beaches, Sasak folklore

Bali

rice terraces, temple ceremonies, surf beaches

Raja Ampat Islands

biodiverse reefs, limestone islets, liveaboard cruises

Java

volcanic peaks, ancient temples, urban sprawl

Sumatra

rainforest trekking, volcanic lakes, Sumatran wildlife

Lombok

Rinjani trekking, Sasak villages, surf breaks

Indonesia’s postcards lie by omission. Sunrise decks clog with tripods, parking fees stack up, and the “easy” views on Bali cost like Southern Europe in high season while Komodo boats can eat a Java week’s budget in two days. Go anyway. The real magic lands when you move your legs and earn the view.

Start before dawn and climb. Bromo’s ridge grinds your calves, then the caldera opens like a living machine—sand seas, rumble, smoke. Ijen’s sulfur stings your throat and eyes, but the crater lake glows otherworldly once the wind shifts. Pro tip: bring a real respirator, not the tourist cloth mask, and go on a weekday to thin the line into the crater.

Jomblang’s cave drops you by rope into a cathedral of light; time it for the late morning beam. Lake Toba rewards the night bus with cool air, pine, and quiet shoreline miles beyond any resort strip. Baluran’s parched savannah and skittish deer feel like a budget safari if you roll in at first light.

Walk one ridge past any railing. Rent the scooter. Take the long ferry. The crowds fade; the view stops posing and starts breathing.

Forget the postcard grin. In Indonesia, people don’t perform niceness—they close the distance. Kids yell “halo, mister!” from a swarm of scooters; an auntie at a warung waves you onto a plastic stool before you’ve decided what to eat. You’ll be asked where you’re from twenty times in a morning. That’s not a hustle; it’s curiosity looking you in the eye.

Crowds press, schedules slip. The real cost is your time. Pay it gladly. Chats stretch into sweet tea, then kretek smoke, then a plate of something you can’t pronounce. Laughter lands fast, often at your sweat-soaked shirt. Laugh with them and doors open.

Pro-tip: lead with “permisi,” “terima kasih,” and titles—Pak/Bu for older folks, Mas/Mbak for younger. Use your right hand. Shoes off at thresholds. At a small eatery, ask, “Rekomendasi Ibu apa?” and let the cook choose.

I once thumbed a ride on Flores and got folded into a village wedding—sarong, dance, grilled fish, the works. I offered to help wash dishes; they handed me an uncle’s chair.

Best places to meet people: dawn markets, ferry decks, volleyball courts at dusk, roadside coffee shacks. Skip the stage-managed stuff. Sit, sip, and let the conversation run.

Come for dragons; stay for the sweat, leeches, and the Wallace Line doing its weird magic. Indonesia isn’t a zoo you drive through. It’s work. Komodo day trips cram boats and stack fees; dragons nap like bored dogs by noon. Raja Ampat is gorgeous but costs roughly 2–3x Bali per day once permits and boat transfers pile up. Go anyway. The payoff lives in the margins.

At dawn in Gunung Leuser, gibbons whoop like sirens and the forest revs. I’ve stood in ankle-deep mud for an hour, then watched a female orangutan ghost through a strangler fig with her kid clinging on—no feeding platform, no crowd, just breath held. In Kalimantan, a slow klotok creeps the blackwater and proboscis monkeys explode from mangroves at sunset.

Pro tip: pick Rinca over Komodo Island for a quieter dragon walk, and move fast—first ranger slot, earliest boat. For Sulawesi, Tangkoko is small but fierce; carry a red-filtered headlamp and sit still for tarsiers. Divers, time Manta Ridge in Raja Ampat for slack tide; even on a budget homestay, share boat fuel and bring your own reef-safe sunscreen. The animals don’t pose. They appear when you’ve earned it.

Indonesia earns its backpacker stripes the hard way. You’ll dodge Bali traffic, queue behind tripods at swings, and pay more for a cappuccino in Canggu than a full meal at a Javanese warung. That’s the Instagram tax. Pay it if you must, then get moving.

The pay-off starts when you travel under your own steam. Scoot inland and the air cools, the roads roughen, and breakfast comes wrapped in banana leaf—rice, sambal, a sliver of fish—for the price of a bus snack in Europe. Java’s trains give you clean seats and a window on endless rice fields; ferries put you on deck with truckers and grandmas, all sharing sweet tea and stories. I’ve slept on a Pelni’s open deck under a milky sky, woke to flying fish, then rolled my mat and followed porters into a market that smelled like cloves and diesel.

Pro tip: at Bromo, skip the dawn jeep circus at Penanjakan and walk to the crater rim mid-morning—quiet wind, ash underfoot, no shouting. Learn ten words of Bahasa and buy from Padang counters by pointing; your plate fills and your day gets easier.

Skip the glossy gate shots. At Lempuyang you’ll queue for a mirror-trick photo; at Borobudur the premium sunrise slots bite harder than three local lunches; Prambanan bleeds tour buses by 9 a.m. Indonesia still rewards the hustler. Move fast, go early, and chase the craft, not the hashtag.

The payoff sits in the details: Majapahit red-brick portals at Trowulan that glow like kiln fire at dusk; the Yogyakarta kraton’s peeling blues and brass hinges; Toraja carpenters carving buffalo horns into rooflines that actually frame a family’s story; Minangkabau houses in West Sumatra throwing those wild horned eaves against rice terraces; Banda Neira’s Dutch forts and nutmeg mansions creaking with sea salt; Wae Rebo’s conical homes holding heat like clay ovens; Jakarta’s Istiqlal Mosque facing the Cathedral across a park, two ideas in conversation, not conflict.

Pro-tip: beat Kota Tua, Jakarta at 6 a.m.—sweep past Lawang Sewu in Semarang as it opens—no bridal shoots, just light and echoes. I carry thin socks for noon stone at Prambanan, and a tiny flashlight for Taman Sari’s damp tunnels. Go when the air still smells like last night’s rain, and the architecture tells you why it was built.

It depends on your nationality. Many travelers can enter Indonesia without a visa for up to 30 days, but if you need one, you can apply for a Visa on Arrival at the airport. For a longer stay, consider applying for a B211A visa through an Indonesian embassy or consulate before your trip.

Late May through June, then September into early October, is the sweet spot for backpacking Indonesia. The logic is simple: monsoon mud fades, volcano trails set firm, and inter-island ferries hit their stride before the July–August price surge and the Christmas choke. Mornings run clear on Java and Bali, reefs east of Lombok calm enough for budget boats, and the air still carries moisture so rice terraces glow instead of baking brown. Guesthouses answer with real prices instead of “high season” shrugs; trains and long-distance buses have seats without the lottery. Waterfalls still move, but not so much that every path is a slide. You cover ground faster, spend less, and still smell clove smoke and wet earth at dawn on a crater rim. The caveat: skip the big domestic holiday migration if it falls inside this window; everything else tilts in your favor.

Crowd/Heat Peak (Jul–Aug + late Dec): You grind for the good stuff. Fast boats to Nusa islands overbook, sunrise queues knot on Batur, and room rates jump by a head and a half. But the trade is real: bone-dry ridgelines on Bromo, glassy dawn surf on the Bukit, high-viz reef days around the Gilis. If you commit to pre-dawn starts and late lunches, you thread the crush and earn those long, windless sunsets that make the heat worth carrying.
Early Dry Shoulder (May–June): The country shifts gears. Tarps come down, paint dries on warung signs, ferries keep to daylight runs, and guides answer texts again. Trails harden, scooters stop fishtailing, and rice fields pop neon right beside the road. You move—train, bemo, ferry—in a clean rhythm, bargaining without groveling, landing volcano summits with clear mornings and empty shelters.
Monsoon/Off-Peak (Nov–Mar): The interior voice gets loud. Rain drums on tin roofs, jungle breathes, and towns slow to a human pace. Boats cancel and you learn patience; temples drip and belong to you and the caretakers. Heat presses, but the solitude pays. Survival hack: carry a cheap umbrella instead of a sweatbox rain jacket—shade in sun, airflow in rain, and your daypack stays dry.
Late Dry Shoulder (Sep–early Oct): Dust rises in eastern islands, paddies fade gold, and crowds thin fast after school breaks. Prices soften, transport runs on time, and dive ops still hum. Haze can creep in on Sumatra/Borneo; chase coasts with sea breeze and lean into dawn starts. Waterfalls shrink, but long crossings calm, and you get empty guesthouse verandas and early nights that actually restore you.

Personal tip: in the shoulder months, I book domestic flights about 12–14 days out (stretch it to 4–6 weeks for July–August) and let ferries and rooms stay flexible.

Raja Ampat: The postcard promises empty lagoons; the truth is boat fuel and park fees add up fast, and the Piaynemo lookout can feel like a queue on a staircase. Push past that. Sleep at a homestay on stilts, ride a longboat at dawn, and drop into water so clear you watch schools scatter like iron filings in a magnet’s pull. The current grabs your ribs and shoves you along a wall ablaze with soft coral, your ears ticking with the reef’s crackle. Salt dries white on your cheekbones, diesel clings to your shirt, and a manta ghosts in from the blue like a zeppelin.

Bromo–Tengger–Semeru National Park: Sunrise here isn’t romantic; it’s tripods, jeeps, and a ticket that costs more than most volcano viewpoints in Java. Beat the scrum by skipping the platform and moving your legs—drop early onto the Sea of Sand and walk as the sky pales. The volcano’s throat rumbles like an idling jet, fine ash grits between your teeth, and sulfur bites the back of your nose. Horse bells clink out on the flats. When the light finally hits, Semeru coughs a dark puff on the horizon, and you’ve earned it with dust on your boots instead of exhaust in your lungs.

Komodo National Park: Day boats run a conveyor belt—Padar viewpoint, dragon walk, pink beach—plus layered conservation fees that make the wallet wince compared to other islands. Go anyway, but sleep aboard and leave before the flotilla. Drift Batu Bolong when the tide is right and the sea turns into a moving sidewalk of fish, your hands buzzing with plankton and your mask filling with your own grin. Dragons aren’t props; rangers keep distance, and their breath carries the iron stink of carrion. Eat on deck, feel the trade wind flatten your hair, and watch a sky you forgot could hold that many stars.

Tana Toraja, Sulawesi: This isn’t a museum; funerals are real, and you’re a guest, not a spectator, so bring a small contribution and humility. Getting in takes time—long bus rides or a hop from Makassar—and rooms run basic compared to Bali. The payoff lands heavy and human: gong beats thump through your chest, clove smoke hangs sweet-sour in cool mountain air, and buffalo horns climb the front of timber houses like a ledger of pride. Guides don’t sell you a show; they read family histories from grave cliffs and carved balconies. By dusk, mist threads the rice terraces and roosters still haven’t called it quits.

Borobudur & Prambanan, Yogyakarta: The sunrise slot costs more than a week of street food and funnels you into managed viewpoints with shoe covers and guards keeping you moving. Save your money and walk late afternoon instead; tourists thin, shadows sharpen the reliefs, and the pilgrim story in stone finally slows down enough to meet you. Basalt stays cool under your palm, incense drifts from a nearby shrine, and gamelan floats across fields like breath. Prambanan after dark humbles with floodlit spires and bats flitting across the moon. Off the map: Alor’s ripping channels, Wae Rebo’s ridge-top village, and the Togeans’ jellyfish lake; my personal favorite is a pre-dawn walk alone across Bromo’s sand sea while the jeeps idle on the rim.

New Year’s Day (Tahun Baru Masehi): 1 January. Government offices and many shops close; expect heavy travel demand and book transport and accommodation ahead.

Chinese New Year (Imlek): Date varies (lunar calendar). Businesses with Chinese roots close and restaurants fill up; plan transport and festive reservations early.

Nyepi (Balinese Day of Silence): Date varies (Saka calendar). All of Bali enforces a strict silence day with businesses and streets closed and flights into/out of Bali suspended; avoid scheduling arrivals or departures on that date.

Good Friday (Wafat Yesus Kristus): Date varies (Christian calendar). Public offices close nationwide and some services pause; expect local church events and altered schedules.

Isra’ Mi’raj Nabi Muhammad SAW: Date varies (Islamic calendar). Public offices close and some transport timetables shift; religious observances can affect local services.

Labour Day (Hari Buruh): 1 May. Public offices close and rallies or demonstrations can occur in major cities; avoid congested central areas on the day.

Ascension of Jesus Christ (Kenaikan Yesus Kristus): Date varies (Christian calendar). Government offices close and Christian communities hold services, which can change local opening hours.

Vesak (Waisak): Date varies (Buddhist calendar). Major ceremonies (often at Borobudur) draw crowds and cause local road closures and busy transport; book ahead if visiting temples.

Eid al-Fitr (Hari Raya Idul Fitri): Two official days; date varies (Islamic calendar). This is the peak domestic travel period (mudik) with massive congestion and widespread multi-day business closures; secure tickets and allow extra travel time.

Eid al-Adha (Hari Raya Idul Adha): Date varies (Islamic calendar). Public offices close and local festivals occur; expect some services and restaurants to be closed or on reduced hours.

Islamic New Year (Tahun Baru Islam / 1 Muharram): Date varies (Islamic calendar). Public offices close and some community events take place; plan for altered local schedules.

Maulid Nabi Muhammad SAW (Prophet’s Birthday): Date varies (Islamic calendar). National holiday with mosque gatherings and government office closures; allow for schedule changes around observances.

Pancasila Day (Hari Lahir Pancasila): 1 June. Government offices close and official ceremonies occur; most tourist services continue but some public institutions are shut.

Independence Day (Hari Kemerdekaan): 17 August. Nationwide celebrations and parades can cause road closures and altered public transport; plan urban travel around events.

Christmas Day (Hari Natal): 25 December. Public offices and many businesses close, especially in Christian communities; expect busy travel and restaurant demand around the holiday.

This 30-day route is for travelers who want to go all-in on Indonesia: a month-long, moderately paced adventure that stitches together big cities, classic temples, volcano hikes, and serious island time across Java, Bali, Lombok, Flores, and Komodo. You’ll use a mix of trains, domestic flights, ferries, and private cars, with the pace designed to alternate between demanding days (like pre-dawn hikes) and slower stretches in coastal towns and islands where you can actually catch your breath.
Days 1–4: Jakarta, History, and West Java Warm-Up
Land in Jakarta and give yourself a couple of days to adjust and understand the country’s modern heartbeat before you scatter to islands and volcanoes. Spend time at the National Museum of Indonesia to get a handle on the archipelago’s cultures, then wander Kota Tua Jakarta for colonial streets, coffee, and a sense of how the city has reinvented itself. Add an evening performance at Gedung Kesenian Jakarta or a visit to Taman Ismail Marzuki Arts Center if you want to see how contemporary arts and traditional forms collide. Use a day at Taman Mini Indonesia Indah as a fast-forward preview of the regions you’ll later visit for real, then ride the train to Bandung for cooler air and volcanic scenery.
Days 5–8: Bandung Craters to Central Java Temples
Base in Bandung and take a day trip to Kawah Putih, where the pale turquoise crater lake and sulfur smell remind you that Java’s calm surface hides a lot of fire. If you’re keen on hiking, add a day in Gunung Gede Pangrango, sticking to moderate trails to keep your legs fresh for later volcano days. Then travel by train to Yogyakarta, settling in for a deeper cultural phase. Use one dawn for Borobudur Temple Compounds and a separate visit to the Borobodur unique site to see how guides and viewpoints change your understanding of the monument, then dedicate another afternoon to Prambanan Temple Compounds with its intricate Hindu reliefs. In the city, walk through Yogyakarta Palace, cool off at Taman Sari Water Castle, and drop into Fort Vredeburg Museum for independence-era history, leaving at least one evening free just to eat and wander Malioboro’s chaos.
Days 9–12: East Java Volcano Trilogy
From Yogyakarta, continue east by train toward Probolinggo, your launchpad for Bromo Tengger Semeru National Park. Wake early for sunrise over Mount Bromo, then descend to walk the sea of sand and feel how small you are in that ash-filled amphitheater. Move on toward the Ijen region and spend a night nearby so you can reach Ijen Crater in the early morning, when the turquoise lake glows and sulfur miners are already hauling loads up the steep paths. If your legs are still game and you want a more demanding challenge, add a day to approach Gunung Semeru from accessible viewpoints rather than a full summit, appr

Question: Get your own 2025 guide book for Indonesia

Answer: The TakeYourBackpack guidebooks are your all-in-one travel companion, featuring the best cities, national parks, hikes, beaches, and unique sites, along with essential tips on when to go, how to get around, exchanging money, and even local phrases to get you started — everything you need for a smooth, unforgettable backpacking adventure.

Question: How do I find the best and cheapest places to stay in Indonesia?

Answer: Personal tip: I normally search on good rating for atmosphere (for meeting people) and location (for easy exploring). Cleanliness as a bonus.

Question: Do I need vaccinations to visit Indonesia?

Answer: Hepatitis A and Typhoid vaccines are recommended for Indonesia travelers. Consider Hepatitis B and Japanese Encephalitis if you’re planning extended stays or rural visits. Rabies is optional but wise if you’ll be around animals. Ensure routine vaccines (measles, mumps, rubella, diphtheria, tetanus, and pertussis) are up-to-date. Malaria prophylaxis varies by region, so check local areas. Always consult a healthcare professional for personalized advice.

Question: What are the best SIM cards and internet options in Indonesia?

Answer:
When I first started traveling, I often spent part of my first day in a new country hunting for a local SIM card. While this can still be slightly cheaper, it also takes time and planning.

These days, it's much simpler to install an eSIM before leaving home. Once you arrive in Indonesia, you can activate it immediately and have mobile data from the moment you land — which is especially useful for ordering transport or navigating away from busy airports.

There are many providers nowadays, and price differences are usually small. I personally go with Airalo, as it offers excellent network coverage throughout the country and strong global coverage, so you can manage multiple countries from a single app.

Question: What are the cultural norms and etiquette in Indonesia for travelers?

Answer:
Dress modestly, especially when visiting religious sites; cover shoulders and knees. Remove shoes when entering homes or temples. Use your right hand for eating and giving or receiving items. Public displays of affection are frowned upon.

For LGBTQ+ travelers, discretion is advised outside urban areas. Women should be prepared for some male attention, particularly in rural spots, but a firm, polite decline usually suffices. Avoid discussing sensitive topics like politics or religion. Always ask for permission before taking photos of people.

Question: What food should I try in Indonesia?

Answer:
Trying traditional food is always a great way to experience the culture. Here are some must-try dishes for Indonesia.

Nasi Goreng: Indonesia’s take on fried rice, usually made with kecap manis (sweet soy sauce), shallots, garlic, and sometimes shrimp or chicken. Often topped with a fried egg. It’s a staple comfort food and a go-to meal for locals and travelers alike.

Rendang: A slow-cooked beef dish simmered in coconut milk and spices. Originally from West Sumatra, it’s known for its rich, spicy flavor. Rendang is often served on special occasions and is considered a dish of pride due to the time and effort it requires.

Sate: Skewered and grilled meat, typically served with a thick peanut sauce. It’s a street food favorite, with variations found across the country, each region adding its twist to the marinade and sauce.

Gado-Gado: A salad of slightly boiled vegetables and hard-boiled eggs, served with peanut sauce dressing. Often described as Indonesia’s salad, it’s a healthier option that’s both filling and flavorful.

Soto: A traditional soup mainly composed of broth, meat, and vegetables. With numerous regional variations, it’s a dish that showcases the diversity of Indonesian flavors. Soto Ayam (chicken) is particularly popular.

Bakso: Meatballs served in a beef broth, often with noodles or rice vermicelli. A favorite street food, it’s loved for its warm, comforting nature, making it perfect for a quick, satisfying meal.

Question: Is the tap water safe to drink in Indonesia?

Answer: Tap water in Indonesia isn’t safe to drink for tourists, and most locals don’t drink it straight either. Stick to bottled or filtered water to avoid any stomach issues. You’ll find bottled water easily available and cheap at most shops.

Question: Can you get by with English in Indonesia?

Answer:
The main language in Indonesia is Bahasa Indonesia. Backpacking is way more rewarding if you know a bit of the local language, so I'd suggest brushing up on the basics just in case your Bahasa Indonesia skills have become a bit rusty.

In Indonesia, English proficiency varies significantly by region and demographic. In major cities like Jakarta and Bali, you’ll find a higher number of English speakers, especially among younger people, professionals, and those in the tourism sector. Many hotels, restaurants, and tourist attractions offer English-speaking staff, making it easier for travelers to navigate.

However, in rural areas and smaller towns, English may be less commonly spoken. Locals might understand basic phrases, but communication can be challenging without some knowledge of Bahasa Indonesia, the national language. Learning a few key phrases in Bahasa can enhance your experience and help bridge any language gaps.

Overall, while English is not universally spoken, you can generally find enough English speakers in tourist hotspots to get by. Being patient and using gestures can also help in situations where language barriers arise.

Question: What is the local currency in Indonesia?

Answer: The local currency of Indonesia is IDR (Rp).

Question: How do I get cash or use cards in Indonesia?

Answer:
ATMs: You’ll find ATMs in most towns and cities in Indonesia, but they’re not as common in rural areas or on some smaller islands. Always have a backup plan if you’re heading off the beaten path. Make sure your card is activated for international use, and inform your bank about your travel plans to avoid any awkward blocks.

Carry Cash: It’s smart to carry some cash, especially for smaller purchases, local markets, and in places where card machines are nonexistent. Indonesian Rupiah can fluctuate, so keep an eye on the exchange rate before you go. Big cities are card-friendly, but cash is king in rural areas.

Dollars or Euros: U.S. Dollars and Euros are widely accepted for exchange, but they’re not used for transactions. Keep them crisp and in good condition; locals can be picky about the state of your bills. Don’t rely on them too much, though; always have Rupiah for day-to-day expenses.

Card Acceptance: Major cities and tourist hotspots will accept credit cards, but always have cash as a backup. Small vendors rarely accept cards, and outside tourist zones, cash is your best bet. Visa and Mastercard are most commonly accepted — Amex, not so much.

Exchange Tips: Stick to legitimate exchange counters — avoid street exchangers no matter how tempting the rate seems. Airports are convenient, but the rates are often less favorable. In towns, reputable money changers will have clear signage and usually offer better rates than banks.

Question: What is the tipping culture in Indonesia?

Answer: Tipping in Indonesia isn’t obligatory but is appreciated. In restaurants, a tip of 5-10% is common if a service charge isn’t included. For taxi drivers and hotel staff, rounding up the fare or giving small amounts like IDR 5,000-10,000 is considered generous.


The Offline Backpacking Travel Guide for Iran

Discover 91 must-see places in Iran, routes, costs and safety tips. All highlights plotted on a map. Verified for 2026 travel. Registered Dutch Business (KvK: 99855925).

Cross deserts, mountains, and historic cities, experiencing culture, architecture, and landscapes for travelers seeking immersive, offbeat journeys.

History and culture seekers crossing deserts and cities

I gave up an hour to sip tea and ask “rial or toman?” and left with a cheaper SIM and a free ride. In Iran, patience pays because money, manners, and logistics run on parallel tracks. Learn the code and the country lets you in.

What you get for learning it is huge: blue domes in Isfahan that seem to breathe, poets whispering through Shiraz gardens, windcatchers cooling clay alleys in Yazd, and Persepolis glowing at day’s edges. You move from Alborz trailheads and Damavand’s ash-gray slopes to the otherworld of the Lut, where night throws a skyful of stars at you, then down to Qeshm’s canyons and mangroves and caravanserai courtyards where the silence carries. Food is comfort and ceremony—herbs on everything, saffron like a drumbeat, bread carried like treasure—and strangers fold you into their day before you can protest. Yes, there are rules: headscarves and modest dress, a cash economy where your cards go dead, filtered internet that needs a VPN, ta’arof that sounds like “it’s free” but actually means “please insist,” and distances that are bus-long not scooter-short. But each is solvable, and solving them is the price of admission to the good stuff—real conversations, porch tea at sunset, a sense you’re not just seeing Iran, you’re being hosted by it.

Turkey is easier and louder; the Caucasus pours wine and shrugs at rules; the Gulf is polished and pricey; Oman does desert in a whisper. Iran is for travelers who value depth over speed, architecture over nightlife, mountains and deserts over beaches, and human warmth over convenience.

Isfahan

Blue-tiled mosques, river bridges, grand squares

Shiraz

Poets’ gardens, ancient ruins, citrus courtyards

Tehran

Urban sprawl, mountain views, modern museums

Yazd

Windcatchers, adobe lanes, Zoroastrian sites

Tabriz

Covered bazaar, mountain backdrop, Armenian quarter

Ramsar

Caspian coastline, forested hills, hot springs

Hormuz

Colorful geology, salt caves, island villages

Susa

Archaeological mounds, ancient palace, ziggurat

Sareyn

Thermal baths, mountain views, summer crowds

Garmeh

Desert oasis, palm gardens, mudbrick alleys

Masuleh

stepped alleys, foggy hills, rooftop streets

Kandovan

rock-cut homes, volcanic landscape, troglodyte dwellings

Persepolis

Achaemenid terraces, stone reliefs, ceremonial stairways

Meidan Emam, Esfahan

grand square, Safavid palaces, bazaar arcades

Bam Citadel

adobe fortress, desert ramparts, ancient watchtowers

Masjed-e Jāmé of Isfahan

layered prayer halls, brick domes, calligraphic tilework

Qeshm Island Geopark

salt caves, tidal valleys, fossil beds

Golestan

mixed forests, waterfalls, mountain passes

Lut Desert

sand seas, yardangs, extreme heat

Alamut Valley

castle ruins, limestone cliffs, remote villages

Dena Protected Area

Zagros peaks, alpine meadows, endemic plants

Khar Turan National Park

steppe desert, Asiatic cheetah, sand dunes

Mount Damavand

volcanic cone, sulfur vents, high-altitude ascent

Alam-Kuh

granite walls, glacier fields, technical ascents

Dena Mountain Range

oak forests, limestone peaks, alpine meadows

Sabalan Mountain

volcanic crater lake, hot springs, summer pastures

Kaluts of Shahdad

desert labyrinth, wind-carved formations, salt flats

Kish Island Beach

coral sands, clear water, cycling paths

Hormuz Island Beach

red sands, salt caves, mineral-streaked hills

Chabahar Beach

rocky cliffs, tidal pools, Makran coast

Bandar Abbas Beach

industrial port, palm-lined promenade, local markets

Bushehr Beach

mudflats, fishing boats, Persian Gulf breeze

Golestan Palace

Mirror hall, royal court, tilework mosaics

Chehel Sotoun Palace

Reflecting pool, wooden columns, garden pavilion

Ali Qapu Palace

Safavid architecture, music balcony, miniature frescoes

Tabriz Historic Bazaar Complex

Vaulted corridors, trading domes, merchant caravanserais

Vakil Bazaar and Vakil Bath

Stone arcades, traditional shops, historic bathhouse

Nowruz

spring equinox, Haft-Seen table, family visits

Chaharshanbe Suri

fire jumping, street gatherings, festive noise

Yalda Night

winter solstice, pomegranate, poetry readings

Kashan Rose Water Festival

rose fields, copper stills, local markets

Fajr International Film Festival

cinema premieres, filmmaker panels, Tehran screenings

Zagros Mountains

Alpine valleys, nomadic camps, rugged limestone peaks

Gilan

Caspian coastline, tea plantations, forest villages

Iran runs on face-to-face kindness. Strangers stop you to ask where you’re from, then try to feed you, guide you, or put you in their cousin’s car. It’s generous, and it can eat your day. Protect your energy with polite boundaries.

Learn about taarof, ritual politeness. When someone says “it’s on me” or “no need to pay,” insist three times and place the cash on the tray. Say “taarof nakon, lotfan” to cut the dance. Don’t rave about an item you don’t intend to buy—you might be gifted it.

Expect quick humor and genuine curiosity. Tea is default; meals and invites happen. If you accept a home invite, bring sweets or fruit and shoes off at the door. Ask before photos. With the opposite sex, wait for a handshake cue. Settle taxi prices upfront and carry small bills.

Iran is architecture you can walk through: cuneiform at Persepolis, blue-domed math in Isfahan, windcatchers in Yazd, the rebuilt bones of Bam, Qajar mansions with stained glass in Kashan, and a modern punch like the Tabiat Bridge. The payoff is real if you travel smart. Cards don’t work; bring cash and skip the ‘special’ taxi detours. Many sites close on Fridays or at prayer; plan mornings when tilework actually glows and crowds haven’t filled Naqsh-e Jahan. Expect dual pricing and tripod bans at some museums; save the fee for a rooftop at sunset. Dress conservatively, keep drones at home, and accept scaffolding as part of the story. Do Isfahan–Yazd–Shiraz in a tight loop and you’ll spend less time in buses and more time under domes that were laid by hand and still beat most concrete today.

Iran is the rare place where your biggest expense is mistakes, not prices. Sanctions kill your bank card, so bring crisp USD/EUR and change at the market rate; do that and long bus rides, saffron rice, and a bed in a courtyard house cost less than a taxi in Europe. Distances are huge, but night buses and cheap domestic flights keep the pace. Friday closures are real; plan cities for weekends and ruins midweek. Dress rules exist; pack loose layers and move on. Learn ta’arof fast—people decline payment out of politeness, not profit—so insist kindly. Get a local SIM and a VPN. Dual pricing at sights stings, but Naqsh‑e Jahan, Yazd’s badgirs, and Persepolis earn it. The deserts—Kavir, Lut—remind you why you left the obvious trail.

Iran is where a backpacking budget stretches. Intercity VIP buses are cheap, comfy, and run everywhere; take a night bus and you’ve paid for transport and “accommodation” in one move. Simple eateries feed you well for small change, and public taps keep a refillable bottle full. Most backpackers can live around $20–30/day without fuss.

Gotchas: it’s a cash economy. Foreign cards don’t work. Bring crisp USD/EUR and swap at licensed sarrafi, not airports or hotel desks. Prices are quoted in tomans (drop a zero), but receipts show rials; always confirm the unit before you hand over money. Some sights charge foreigners much more—bundle museums into one day and prioritize the heavy hitters. Use Snapp/Tap30 instead of curbside taxis to dodge “special price.” Do this, and your money buys time and miles.

Iran is where serious mountains meet hospitality, without the lift lines or Alpine price tags. Damavand breathes sulfur on your face; the Alborz throws you cold dawns over a capital city; the Zagros rolls for days on oak-backed ridges. I keep coming back for the mix of big terrain and human warmth you can afford. You can go from the Tehran metro to a 3,900‑meter ridge in one long day, then drink tea while your socks steam. The catches are what keep it good: altitude hits fast, wind bites harder than the forecast, border ranges have checkpoints, and huts are basic. Gas canisters are scarce beyond Tehran, so bring an adapter; filter your water and start early because transport is cheap but slow. Plan smart and you swap hassle for big peaks and small crowds on a weekend-in-Europe budget.

Most travelers need a visa to visit Iran, which you can apply for at Iranian embassies or consulates. Some nationalities can get a visa on arrival, but it’s safer to get an e-visa through the official Iranian Ministry of Foreign Affairs website before you travel. Note: U.S., U.K., and Canadian citizens must pre-arrange a guided tour and visa through a travel agency.

Late April to mid-May and late September to late October are the cleanest weeks to backpack Iran without bleeding time or money. The Nowruz crush has drained away, but summer furnace heat hasn’t settled on the plateau. You can walk Esfahan’s bridges all afternoon without melting, climb Yazd’s rooftops at sunset without a heat headache, and sleep in the desert with a light layer instead of a full winter kit. Mountain roads are mostly open, but not clogged with domestic holiday traffic. Bus and train seats exist at walk-up prices, and guesthouse quotes stop yo-yoing. Autumn carries the same perks in reverse: heat bleeds out of the cities, Persepolis lines shrink, and orchard towns wake up with harvest energy. Watch the moving religious calendar; if Ramadan lands in your window, daytime food access tightens—stash snacks and eat big at dawn and after dark.

Peak Heat & Holiday Crush: Late June–August and the Nowruz weeks turn Iran into a grind: tickets vanish, taxi quotes creep up, and desert streets go white-hot by noon. The payoff is visceral—Damavand’s high trails finally open, night markets run deep into the cool hours, and rooftop breezes in Yazd feel earned. Expect closures or reroutes around major religious days; they shift each year and can shut museums or pack buses without warning.
Shoulder Spring: Late April–mid-May moves fast—bazaars reopen fully after the holiday lull, bus stations unclog, and hosts stop playing the peak-price game. Temperatures slide into that walk-all-day groove, deserts exhale their winter chill, and you start stringing cities together without recovery days.
Shoulder Autumn: Late September–late October steadies the pace. Heat drains from the central plateau, caspian humidity eases before the heavy rains, and crowds thin to the point you can linger at Persepolis without a human tide pressing you forward. Roads across the Alborz still run, but storms can close a pass overnight—keep a lowland detour in your pocket.
Winter Off-Peak: December–February strips it back to the interior. Silent caravanserais, frost on mud-brick lanes, empty museums. The hack: move at midday, live in tea houses, and carry a warm liner—desert nights bite harder than you think. Tehran’s smog spikes with cold inversions; if your lungs protest, pivot to Yazd or the south.

Tactical tip: In the shoulder months, reserve intercity trains 5–7 days ahead; everything else you can improvise on arrival.

Naqsh-e Jahan Square, Isfahan: Dusk turns the square into a slow-moving theater: hooves of carriages clop, the call to prayer rolls off tiled domes, and saffron ice cream drips faster than you can eat it. Don’t burn hours midday—mosques close for prayer windows and the light is flat; come late afternoon and buy separate tickets only for the halls you’ll actually enter. Haggle the carriage to a third of the first quote, skip carpet “tea” unless you’re truly shopping, and walk the shadowed arcades to save energy for Sheikh Lotfollah’s honeyed glow.

Persepolis, near Shiraz: Wind lifts the dust across the terrace and the limestone reliefs—knees polished by centuries—feel warm under your palm. There’s no shade worth counting; get in at opening, carry water like it’s currency, and read the map before you climb so you’re not bouncing between staircases. Tickets for Persepolis, Naqsh-e Rostam, and Pasargadae are separate; hire one taxi for the loop and set the fare up front. Ignore the trinket stalls, save your attention for the Gate of All Nations when the tour buses are still on breakfast.

Yazd Old City: The alleys are clay-cool even at noon, windcatchers mutter overhead, and fresh barbari bread leaves sesame on your fingers. Rooftop views are worth it, but pay with a drink, not a “view fee” trap, and ask before stepping onto any private terrace—locals actually live here. The Fire Temple is brief and respectful; the Towers of Silence earn sunset, not midday glare. Don’t chase taxis around the maze—walk it, then grab a ride only from the main arteries where fares are normal and drivers don’t play the “no meter” game.

Tehran’s Grand Bazaar and Golestan Palace: The bazaar hums with hammer-on-copper, tea steam, and porters pushing trolleys like missiles—keep right and let them pass. Most lanes nap on Fridays and mid-lunch; come mid-morning when deals are real and tempers calm. Bring small bills, keep your phone deep, and don’t “just browse” the carpet caravansary unless you mean it. Golestan sells tickets by hall; pick two or three stunners and skip the rest to save cash and feet. Metro beats traffic; a light daypack avoids the cloakroom shuffle.

Kaluts of the Lut Desert, near Kerman: The wind tastes like salt and oven heat, and the yardangs rise like ship hulls from a dead sea—otherworldly only starts to cover it. This is not a solo wander; go with a driver who knows the checkpoints and the sand, carry more water than your pride wants, and never camp in dry washes. Summer cooks; spring and autumn give you breath and stars. Dust will invade your camera—ziplocks and discipline help. Off the map: Chahkooh Canyon on Qeshm’s quiet flank, Palangan’s terrace village in Kurdistan, and the hike up to Babak Castle above Kaleybar.

Nowruz (Persian New Year): 1 Farvardin (around Mar 20–21); expect public holidays covering the first several days of the new year, widespread business and service closures, and heavy travel demand—13 Farvardin (Sizdah Bedar, ~Apr 2) is commonly a day off too.

Islamic Republic Day: 12 Farvardin (around Apr 1); government offices and many businesses close, so plan administrative tasks outside this date.

Victory of the Islamic Revolution: 22 Bahman (around Feb 11); nationwide commemorations and closures affect public transport and services.

Eid al-Fitr: End of Ramadan (lunar date; typically 1–3 days off); date shifts ~10–11 days earlier each Gregorian year and causes extended closures of shops, banks, and government services.

Eid al-Adha (Feast of Sacrifice): Lunar date (usually 1–2 days off); scheduled sacrifices and family gatherings reduce availability of restaurants and some transport options.

Tasu’a and Ashura: 9–10 Muharram (lunar dates); major national observances with public mourning, widespread closures, and altered public transport schedules.

Mawlid (Prophet Muhammad’s birthday) and other Imam anniversaries: Lunar dates scattered through the year; each is observed as a national holiday at times, causing local and national closures—expect variability depending on the year.

Additional official religious anniversaries and memorials: Several other lunar-based birth and martyrdom anniversaries of Shi’a figures are treated as national holidays in Iran; each causes partial or full closures and moves annually with the lunar calendar.

This 21-day route is for travelers who want to go beyond the “greatest hits” and really feel the country’s regional differences, mixing big-name cities with mountains, deserts, islands, and a couple of smaller towns, all at a measured pace using long-distance buses, a few strategic flights, and plenty of local taxis and shared cars. You’ll rarely move more than every two or three days, so you can actually build routines—favorite tea spots, morning walks, and sunset rituals—in each place instead of just collecting passport stamps.
Days 1–4: Tehran and Alborz foothills – Palaces, towers, and a mountain escape
Spend three nights in Tehran to ease into Iran’s culture and logistics before you start bouncing around the map. Use one full day to explore the historic core with Golestan Palace, the Treasury of National Jewels, and the National Museum of Iran, giving yourself time between each for coffee, street food, and people-watching so the history actually sticks. On your second day, pivot to modern and northern Tehran: ride up to Milad Tower for a city panorama, then walk the Tabiat Bridge in late afternoon when locals are out strolling, and if you have the energy, push a bit further into the foothills for a taste of cooler air. On day four, take a classic Tehran escape with a day hike in Darband, riding a shared taxi to the trailhead and following the riverside cafes and paths up into the Alborz for a gentle acclimatization to Iran’s mountain culture before you head deeper into the ranges later in the trip.
Days 5–7: Alamut Valley and Ramsar – Castles to Caspian coast
Leave Tehran by road toward the dramatic Alamut Valley, where you’ll spend a night close enough to hike up to the old fortress and wander the surrounding canyons without racing the sunset back to a distant city. After your Alamut day, continue by road over the mountains to the Caspian-side town of Ramsar, trading rocky ridges for humid air and palm-lined streets. Give yourself two nights in Ramsar to ride the cable car into the forested hills, walk the shoreline, and decompress from the altitude and history before you swing west toward Iran’s lush northwest corner.
Days 8–10: Tabriz, bazaar life, and cave village
Travel by bus to Tabriz and settle in for three nights to explore the northwest without rushing. Anchor one day in the sprawling Tabriz Historic Bazaar Complex, where you can wander carpet halls, spice lanes, and caravanserai courtyards that still feel like a working trade hub rather than a museum. Use another day for a side trip to the rock-hewn Kandovan village, where homes are carved into volcanic cones and you can wander the lanes at your own pace before heading back to Tabriz for a final evening of tea and sweets in the bazaar’s quieter corners.
Days 11–14: Isfahan and Kashan – Imperial squares and merchant houses
Head south by bus to Isfahan and give your

Question: Get your own 2025 guide book for Iran

Answer: The TakeYourBackpack guidebooks are your all-in-one travel companion, featuring the best cities, national parks, hikes, beaches, and unique sites, along with essential tips on when to go, how to get around, exchanging money, and even local phrases to get you started — everything you need for a smooth, unforgettable backpacking adventure.

Question: How do I find the best and cheapest places to stay in Iran?

Answer: Personal tip: I normally search on good rating for atmosphere (for meeting people) and location (for easy exploring). Cleanliness as a bonus.

Question: Do I need vaccinations to visit Iran?

Answer:
For visiting Iran, recommended vaccinations include:

Routine Vaccinations: Ensure you’re up to date with measles, mumps, rubella (MMR), diphtheria-tetanus-pertussis, varicella (chickenpox), polio, and your yearly flu shot.

Hepatitis A: Recommended for most travelers.

Hepatitis B: Advised if you might have intimate contact, get a tattoo, or need medical treatment.

Typhoid: Consider this if you’re traveling to smaller cities or rural areas.

Rabies: Recommended for travelers engaging in outdoor activities or working with animals.

Check with a healthcare provider for the most current advice based on your travel plans.

Question: What are the best SIM cards and internet options in Iran?

Answer:
When I first started traveling, I often spent part of my first day in a new country hunting for a local SIM card. While this can still be slightly cheaper, it also takes time and planning.

These days, it's much simpler to install an eSIM before leaving home. Once you arrive in Iran, you can activate it immediately and have mobile data from the moment you land — which is especially useful for ordering transport or navigating away from busy airports.

There are many providers nowadays, and price differences are usually small. I personally go with Airalo, as it offers excellent network coverage throughout the country and strong global coverage, so you can manage multiple countries from a single app.

Question: What are the cultural norms and etiquette in Iran for travelers?

Answer:
Dress modestly; women should wear a headscarf and loose clothing that covers arms and legs. Men should avoid shorts. Show respect by removing shoes when entering homes. Public displays of affection are frowned upon.

Same-sex relationships are not legally recognized and can be dangerous to express openly. Women might want to travel with a companion for safety and comfort. Use your right hand for eating and greeting, as the left is considered unclean. Always express gratitude for hospitality, but avoid over-praising, as it might embarrass the host.

Question: What food should I try in Iran?

Answer:
Trying traditional food is always a great way to experience the culture. Here are some must-try dishes for Iran.

Chelo Kebab: This is Iran’s unofficial national dish, featuring perfectly grilled kebabs served with saffron-infused rice. It’s the go-to dish for celebrations and gatherings, highlighting Iran’s love for flavorful meats and aromatic rice.

Fesenjan: A rich, tangy stew made with pomegranate molasses, walnuts, and chicken or duck. It’s a staple at Persian weddings and special occasions, celebrated for its unique sweet-sour balance that represents the depth of Persian cuisine.

Ghormeh Sabzi: A hearty herb stew with kidney beans and lamb, seasoned with dried lime. It’s beloved for its complex flavors and is a quintessential comfort food, often served at family gatherings.

Dizi: Also known as Abgoosht, this is a rustic dish of lamb, chickpeas, and potatoes, slow-cooked to perfection. Traditionally served in clay pots, it’s a cultural experience as much as a meal, often enjoyed in cozy teahouses.

Zereshk Polo: Saffron rice mixed with tangy barberries, often served with chicken. It’s a festive dish, appreciated for its vibrant colors and flavors, typically reserved for special occasions.

Question: Is the tap water safe to drink in Iran?

Answer: Tap water in Iran is generally safe for locals, but tourists might want to stick to bottled or filtered water to avoid any stomach issues. Locals often drink tap water without problems, but it’s a good idea to play it safe if you’re not accustomed to it. Bottled water is cheap and widely available, so it’s an easy option for travelers.

Question: Can you get by with English in Iran?

Answer:
The main language in Iran is Persian. Backpacking is way more rewarding if you know a bit of the local language, so I'd suggest brushing up on the basics just in case your Persian skills have become a bit rusty.

In Iran, English proficiency varies significantly by region and demographic. In major cities like Tehran, Isfahan, and Shiraz, many younger people, especially students and professionals, speak English reasonably well. English is taught in schools, and those in the tourism and hospitality sectors often have a good command of the language.

However, in rural areas and among older generations, English may be less commonly spoken. Travelers might encounter challenges in communication, particularly in small towns or villages where fewer people have had exposure to the language.

Signage in tourist areas is often bilingual, featuring Persian and English, which can aid navigation. While English speakers may not be ubiquitous, many Iranians are eager to help and communicate, often using gestures or translation apps.

Overall, while you may not find English speakers everywhere, with some patience and creativity, travelers can navigate and enjoy their experience in Iran.

Question: What is the local currency in Iran?

Answer: The local currency of Iran is IRR (﷼).

Question: How do I get cash or use cards in Iran?

Answer:
ATMs: Don’t count on them. Most ATMs in Iran won’t work with foreign cards due to sanctions. So, have a backup plan.

Cash is King: You’re gonna need to bring all the cash you’ll spend. ATMs won’t help much, so stash those bills safely.

Currency Choice: Dollars and Euros are your best bet. They’re widely accepted for exchange, but dollars might give you a slightly better rate.

Card Acceptance: Credit cards are pretty much a no-go. Only a few places might accept them, and that’s not the norm. So, don’t rely on plastic.

Exchanging Money: Skip the airport exchange rates—they’re usually poor. Instead, hit up exchange offices in the city. In Tehran, Ferdowsi Street is a hot spot for decent rates. Always double-check the rates and count your cash before leaving.

Question: What is the tipping culture in Iran?

Answer: Tipping in Iran isn’t customary, but small tips are appreciated in restaurants and for services like taxis. Leave around 5-10% in cash if you’re satisfied with the service. Be discreet when tipping, as it can sometimes be misunderstood.