Cool Hotels. Kim Inglis
bread-and-water retreat. In fact, it is luxurious in many senses of the word. You can choose to partake as little or as much as you like in the various health, relaxation and rejuvenation programs on offer. In addition to Ayurvedic and Western therapies, there is yoga, meditation, hydrotherapy and a fully equipped gymnasium and lap pool, with resident nurse, Ayurvedic doctor and physiotherapist on hand. Spa therapists are probably the best trained in Asia; not only are they intuitive, knowledgeable and loving, they radiate inner goodness. It is easy to surrender to their healing hands. They make you feel special, and if serenity, soul-soothing and stress-busting are on your agenda, Ananda delivers—big time.
Ananda ("bliss and contentment" in Sanskrit) is not new to healing and devotion. The maharajah of Garhwal, a pious person himself, invited renowned spiritual leader Ma Anandamayi to set up a base at his palace, and it was from here that she established her ashram propagating universal love and brotherhood, and became a respected figure in India. The legacy of Ma Anandamayi's all-pervading love eases throughout the entire resort: in the same way that the scent of roses—from the flower petals in the room, the rose-tinted spectacles I was wearing, the scented body lotion in the bathroom—wafted through my stay like a blessing, so did this feeling of warmth and love.
It took me precisely half an hour to settle into the rhythms of Ananda. The days began with an early morning yoga session or invigorating jog; followed by fresh fruit and baked delicacies on the Tree Tops deck. Then the only decision to be made was whether to have a swim, steam or sauna, relax on the balcony, or have one of the too-numerous-to-mention pampering treatments.
More often than not, the latter won through, but for those less self-indulgent, there is a vast range of activities. These include visits to the aarti at Rishikesh (the evening ritual where song and prayer are accompanied by releasing little "boats" of flowers and candles along the Ganges), whitewater rafting and trips to the nearby Rajaji elephant wildlife reserve. Another delightful option—and many simply follow this route—is to simply unwind and relax. There's no better place for it.
The Palace Estate, Narendra Nagar, Tehri Garhwal, Uttaranchal 249 175, India
tel: +91 1378 227500 fax: +91 1378 227550
email: [email protected]
The spa at the Ananda is refreshingly modern, with a reassuring no-nonsense air of professionalism. That doesn't mean to say that it isn't beautiful too, With one floor for men and another for women, it's a coo! combination of green marble, sandstone and granite, interspersed with small Internal courtyards with fountains. There is a separate Ayurvedic wing, each room containing a beautiful therapy bed hand-crafted In Kerala from a single piece of neem wood. The relaxation areas and many of the treatment rooms have dramatic views ever the Himalayan landscape, as do many of the rooms. Here, elegant touches include rose petals and lantana flowers floating in a copper bowl, stationery folders in hessian and leather, recurring lotus images and Individual private balconies, The Viceregal Suite In the palace annexe is the most opulent of the resort's suites.
Neemrana Fort Palace Alwar district, India
Is there such a thing as the "real Indian experience?" Perhaps it's easier to approach this question by listing what it is not. The "real India" is definitely not bug-infested backpackers' lodges and third-class rail travel; it also isn't the five-star luxury of new, opulent resorts (although we like some of these very much). Rather, it is a stay at some place like the Neemrana Fort Palace, an extraordinary heritage hotel that combines history and architectural grandeur with honest hospitality. I'd say a weekend there is about as authentic an Indian experience as you'll get anywhere on the subcontinent.
This is not to denigrate its more expensive, super-deluxe counterparts, some of which are featured in this book. If we're honest, those kinds of hotels lure us with a fantasy element; they take us to another world where we can forget our "real" lives and identities and become anyone we want. They're treats, they're pampering—and they're fun.
But somehow they don't seem real. Neemrana, on the other hand, is raw and real, the genuine article. Dating from the 15th century, and built in stages over 500 years, it is sited on a majestic plateau in the ancient Aravalli ranges. Whilst researching a book on Shekavati in the late '70s, owners Aman Nath and Francis Wacziarg first saw Neemrana glowing on a hill at sunset. It was subsequently bought in 1986 along with two partner-friends. Soon after the first wing was restored to open as a hotel in 1991, they asked their price to bow out, and today it is the flagship property of the Neemrana Group's hotels.
When work began, Neemrana's walls were crumbling, roofs had fallen in, and because nobody had lived there since 1947, villagers had pretty much looted all they could carry through its massive fortified doors. In fact, the doors themselves were about the only things they left behind—and that is because they were simply too heavy to shift! But gradually, over the years, the hotel took shape, and today, the fort palace boasts 42 rooms and suites, all different, all highly individual, situated in various nooks and crannies over nine levels.
As you progress ever upward, India in all its many facets is presented to you. Each room is named after an aspect of Indian life, or a region of the country. The Malabar Mahal sports woodwork from Kerala: part of a catamaran from the Malabar coast hangs from the ceiling and wood carvings taken from nalakettu or traditional warrior's homes are used both as interior and exterior decoration. Many others feature soft chhapai or block-printed cloth, that is hand made locally. The queen's chambers, renamed the Sheesh Mahal or Hall of Mirrors after the original cut-glass ceiling, is resplendent in blue and white: colored glass on the windows, floaty white drapes, and the original geometric latticed windows or jaalis overlooking a central courtyard have been retained. Today, as in the past, you can see the goings on outside, but those outside cannot see in. One of the hotel restaurants, with scalloped-edged arches splitting the space into intimate areas, is dedicated to Raja Rajinder Singh, the last maharajah of Neemrana: old black-and-white family photographs and portraits grace the walls, and there's a sketch of his widow's house, the Vijay Bagh, on the outskirts of the village. If you look closely, you can spot her modest home through the window; she, in turn, can see her former family seat from her terrace.
Like any traditional Indian dwelling, Neemrana revolves around a series of courts. Most are landscaped to some extent, and they lend the rambling palace some breathing space. But it's the exuberant collection of Indian art and artifacts that is particularly noteworthy; everywhere you turn, you are greeted by a statue, or an unusual piece of furniture or an object d'art. One semi-open hall, the Hindla Mahal (from hindola meaning "swing"), is dedicated solely to showcasing a selection of old Indian swings—from a colonial rocking cradle to some enormous examples from Gujarat, Rajasthan and South India. One gets the impression that a truck may just show up at any given moment, and disgorge a veritable treasure trove of paraphernalia personally collected by the owners.
By the millennium, the old palace was totally renovated. You'd have thought this would be the time for the owners to sit back and enjoy their creation. Right? "Actually, no," says Nath.