There’s a strong argument to suggest that I got my domestic travel strategy all wrong. We recently took a trip up to Rajasthan, to the lake city of Udaipur, where we stayed in two of India’s best hotels. Udaipur is a popular destination for both Indian and international travellers. It is known as the “City of Lakes”, but in fact the series of seven manmade lakes are operated more like what we would call reservoirs, irrigating the land around. Still, City of Sophisticated Reservoir Network doesn’t have the same romance to it. Our first hotel was the Oberoi Udaivillas for two nights, and the second for the same length of time, the RAAS Devigarh. My rationale was that while still in my settling in period, and for our first foray into Indian domestic travel, I wanted everything to go smoothly. For this reason, I booked through the luxury travel company Banyan Tours, knowing that this would ensure seamless airport transfers, good tour guides and reliable restaurant recommendations. I also brought Jasper’s nanny Seema along too, to be on baby-wrangling duty in aeroplanes and cars, and to allow Dylan and I the freedom of the odd dinner in a restaurant rather than dining silently in the dark of a hotel room while he slept. I hoped this experiment would give me the confidence in local travel that I needed to then work my way back down to a more appropriate budget range for future trips. The trouble is, nobody does casual opulence quite like India. It’s not only that the hotels themselves were stunning, it’s that the staff made us feel like we genuinely belonged there, and like they really wanted to help make our stay perfect. Now that we have had a taste of high end, palatial accommodation and been made to feel so at home there, I see how hard it is going to be to rein in my expectations and my spending. And not just my own expectations, in fact. Jasper now asks every day to go on an “ana”, which is Jasper for aeroplane, and it is hard to overlook just how comfortable he was galavanting around the labyrinthine staircases of an 18th century palace. That said, I did identify a few things that I would do differently on our next trip. So, while it’s still fresh in my mind, I thought I would write myself a list of things to remember when booking our next trip. Things which, hopefully, will help pull me back out of the deep pit of superfluous luxury into which I will inevitably fall as I start to search destinations.
Photos: (i) Jasper navigating the palace steps at RAAS Devigarh / (ii) Jasper and I deep in conversation as the sun sets over our palace pool / (iii) The Oberoid Udaivillas and its many marble water features at dusk.
We all enjoy the countryside
Neither Dylan nor I is a city person, despite our jobs making it all but impossible not to live in a city. And in his short 20 odd months of life so far, Jasper has also proven himself to be very much the nature boy - paying close attention to flowers, bushes, snails, caterpillars and butterflies while out on walks, and always choosing books about animals over anything else. Unless there is a ball on the page of a book, of course. The natural world sits firmly in second place behind anything to do with balls or ball-shaped things. On our epic transcontinental visa run before arriving in India, I used Our Planet, the Netflix series narrated by David Attenborough to sooth and distract Jasper, to the point where every time he saw a TV he would start signing the words ‘monkey’ and ‘elephant’ to indicate he wanted to watch Episode 3: Jungles.
We are lucky, where we live in Mumbai, to be tucked away in a tree-lined oasis within which we can pretend we are not slap bang in the middle of a chaotic metropolis. We can even see the Arabian Sea from our living room windows. But what we can’t escape is the noise of the city around us. The tranquil silence of the countryside around Udaipur hit me as soon as we emerged from the airport. In just a few steps between the arrivals hall and the car, I could already tell that the air felt purer, the sky felt closer and the volume was set many, many levels lower than Mumbai’s. As we drove towards our first hotel, nestled on the banks of Lake Pichola, we swerved around cows lazing in the middle of the road, and watched as the mountain horizon came closer. Parts of the journey reminded me of Myanmar's Shan State around Kalaw and Taunggyi, while other parts felt more like rural China. It’s hard not to compare India to Myanmar, because Myanmar is what I knew for so long. As we drew closer to our hotel, I caught my first glimpse of Lake Pichola which, although large, pales in comparison to the vast expanse of Inle Lake, but still caused me a wave of wistful nostalgia.
The timing of our trip, in the middle of monsoon season, was due to the long weekend for India’s 75th Independence Day holiday. Dylan works a 6-day week, and doesn’t get all the Mumbai public holidays due to his client being from Bangalore, so when there is a national holiday, I need to jump on it. And while our residential compound is wonderful, there is nothing like a complete change of scenery to give Dylan a much-needed break from the daily grind, even if there is a risk of rain. Udaipur is home to around half a million people, but there seemed to be some disagreement as to whether it is a town or a city. Either way, it is punctuated by lakes and surrounded by mountains which undoubtedly contribute to the serene pace of life the inhabitants appear to have adopted. On our second day, Dylan and I left Jasper and Seema to enjoy the grounds of the hotel and went for a cycle tour through some of the neighbouring villages. Even with tourist vehicles (including our tour guide’s car, following us) and scooters noisily churning up the muddy tracks, it was a calm and welcome escape from the intensity of our everyday life, and from the every so slightly stuffy atmosphere in our grand, luxury hotel. Our second hotel, the RAAS Devigarh was located a 40 minute drive outside of Udaipur and its lakes, nestled in the hills. As we climbed the steps up to the 2nd floor restaurant from whose terrace we had an uninterrupted view over farmlands, mountains and monsoon skies and shared our welcome peanuts with an audacious squirrel, we appreciated even more just how good it is for us all to get out of the city more often. The flock of vibrant green parrots, innumerable pigeons, our new squirrel friend and two grass-trimming tortoises kept Jasper amused for some decent chunks of time, as had the ostentation of peacocks found roaming the grounds of the Oberoi Udaivillas.
Photos: (i) Lakeside gardens at Oberoi Udaivillas /(ii) Sunset from the restaurant terrace at RAAS Devigarh.
I am aware that India is vast and boasts miles upon miles of beautiful countryside, but the flip side of it is that the more untouched the landscape, the further it is from an airport or train station (for when I build up to train travel).
Space is a worthwhile luxury
I am grateful on a daily basis for the amount of outdoor space Jasper has to run around within the IndiaBulls Blu compound where we live. Whether it is the running legs that require the space, or the space that requires the running legs, it is undeniable that Jasper needs space to run. And he can’t just switch his legs off when we go on holiday. Our first hotel, the Oberoi Udaivillas sits on 50 acres of prime lakeside land. Even when some of that land is covered by hotel rooms, restaurants and pools, that still leaves more than enough for a small explorer and his trusty ball carrier. One evening, Dylan and I took advantage of having Seema in tow, and snuck out to dinner at an arguably more famous, more luxurious hotel called the Taj Lake Palace. It calls itself family friendly, but as we approached it by boat, which is the only way you can approach it, Dylan and I thanked our lucky stars we hadn’t been advised to stay there. No amount of service, food or spa treatments would have made up for the fact that Jasper would have been bouncing off the walls, and possibly overboard. It made it clear to us that for the foreseeable future, floating hotels are probably out of the question.
Photo: Approaching the Taj Lake Palace by boat / Dinner a-deux at the Taj Lake Palace, overlooking the City Palace from our private little alcove.
Back at the Oberoi, Jasper was able to spend hours exploring the many different courtyards and gardens. He perfected his peacock dance and his peacock call after some immersive training from the experts. He kicked a ball around on the lakeside lawns, and had fun meeting all the statues dotted around the gardens. We must have all clocked up several kilometres each day just walking from the room to the restaurant and back for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and we all enjoyed a swim in one of the two, freshwater pools we had to choose from. The Oberoi places maps in the rooms to help guests get their heads around the sheer size and layout of their property. The map also helped us play a more analytical and efficient game of ‘find the baby’ when we came back from our cycling trip.
Our second hotel, the RAAS Devigarh had a very different feel to it, given that it is actually a former palace, and not a modern development in the style of some of the traditional architecture as is the Oberoi. As we explored its many courtyards, rooms, turrets, towers and terraces we realised that Jasper would have to be kept on quite a short leash. 18th century palaces were not designed with the welfare of inquisitive toddlers in mind, I’d venture, and even the slick, sensitive, modern renovations that have been done on the place couldn’t make those ledges and rooftops safe. Still, there was a cricket-able lawn near the reception, and a walled garden near the spa, where the two tortoises grumbled around all day long. And actually, Jasper developed a nice way of both descending and cleaning the steep, marble staircases on his bottom, giving them a polish as he went. The hotel had a nice sense of fun, despite its defensive and precarious hilltop location. In the courtyard nearest to our room, there was an enormous 250 year old swing that Dylan very much enjoyed, a rentable games room with a movie-screening projector and a table tennis table, a pool room into which we did not give Jasper so much as a peak, and a beautiful bar /library where we enjoyed cocktails one night, but were denied them the next night due to Independence Day being a dry day.
The best thing about this second hotel was that we had a suite, which meant that whoever was sitting in the room while Jasper napped or slept didn’t have to do so in the dark. During his afternoon nap, I was happy to sit at the table in the living area, staring out of the enormous window over the farms and fields below, working on a writing project I have underway, while Jasper slumbered happily in the dark den of the bedroom. Adjoining the living area was our own private tranche of tower, in which Jasper and I did some early morning colouring and from where we could watch the parrots playing on the roof. There was even a small draughts table under the cloister just outside our room, from where I could both enjoy the warmth of outdoors and hear when Jasper woke up. In the evenings, after dinner, Seema would take up residence on the sofa while Jasper slept and Dylan and I enjoyed a cocktail and several games of pool. Or a pot of hot chai and several games of pool on Independence Day. The suite made the job of baby-watcher so much more civilised.
Toddler-Safe Comfort makes for Adult Relaxation
Comfort is a given when it comes to luxury hotels. Both the Oberoi Udaivillas and the RAAS Devigarh had pillow menus, concierge services and staff for whom nothing was too much trouble. In both hotels the rooms were lovely, as was the environment into which we stepped as soon as we left the rooms. However, I think I would give up the pillow menu for more emphasis on toddler safety. On our long and very enjoyable ramble from our room to the restaurant at the Oberoi, we passed somewhere between seven and ten pieces of wall art that were essentially a bunch of swords loosely hooked onto the wall. From the moment that Dylan decided to see if they were fixed or if he could remove one to engage me in battle, Jasper took it upon himself to check the same every time he walked past. And then there were the water features. Nothing says opulence quite like an excess of pristine water features, but sadly with a water-loving mischiefer who believes that everything was put here on the planet for him to play with, they lead to a lot of clothing changes and safety risk. And then in our second hotel, the one with all the low walls around rooftop gardens and steep, twisting marble staircases, the entire room was made of marble. We are well versed in how quickly a drop of water, or saliva in Jasper’s case, can turn a marble floor into a stunt arena because our entire apartment in Mumbai is marble. Some mornings while in the shower, I feel myself aquaplaning slowly towards the plug hole just because a dollop of conditioner is stuck under my foot and has quickened the already deadly marble surface. Jasper has developed an unfortunate but highly amusing habit of escaping the clutches of his post-bath towel and setting off nungo-bungo, as they say here, on a nudie rudie run. This is fine, in our apartment, when his feet have already been dried by the mat and where we know he will head straight for the sofa which in turn, helps to dry off more of his body. But in a new hotel room where the bath, the walls, the bed and even the windowsills were made of sharp-cornered marble, it was more than a little nerve wracking.
Fine dining is fine, but not all the time
Some days, back in Mumbai, when I am parenting alone I take myself and Jasper to the pool cafe at IndiaBulls and we eat french fries for lunch purely because I just can’t face the preparation and cleanup of a lunch Jasper may or may not decide to eat. On those days I find it hard to imagine feeling fed up with too much restaurant dining. But after just one day in the Oberoi hotel, I longed for a kitchen. The food was great, and despite having a thing called a menu, the cooks would make literally anything we asked for, but the trouble was that Jasper didn’t always feel like eating. I had initially envisaged, based on The Good Baby, Jasper eating his lunch while we tucked into the bread basket, and then Jasper being taken for his nap while Dylan and I continued ordering our own food accompanied by a leisurely glass of wine. In reality, what happened was that Dylan and I ate most of Jasper’s untouched custom-cooked lamb ragout pasta and then stewed over the missed opportunity to order the ribs now that we were half full. We did have the wine I had promised us, but it wasn’t quite the two-tiered lunch arrangement I had hoped for. At the moment, Jasper turns into The Bad Baby the moment we enter a restaurant. He’s all energy and excitement and stands up in his high chair declaring “baby, over” to let us know he’s finished pushing whatever he’s been served around the plate or chair or entire dining room. And unfortunately, this was the baby that came to Udaipur with us. I longed for a kitchen where I could prepare something simple like a bolognese and then serve it to Jasper in various formats for days, to save on the effort of choosing something, selling it to him and then having to eat it myself. The one thing Jasper never said no to was bananas, so by the time we left Rajasthan, Jasper was on a diet of around three to four bananas a day. I’m no nutritionist but I think that’s two or three too many.
On the evening when Dylan and I went out to dinner at the Taj Lake Palace, we left Jasper back at the Oberoi with Seema to have dinner there and then be bathed and put to bed before we came home. We were pretty much the first people to arrive in the restaurant, and then proceeded to wolf down as much of our dinner as we could handle, in less than an hour. It turns out, even when we don’t have Jasper with us, we eat as though we do; at high speed, with our reflexes set to jumpy, and ready to abandon the ordeal before we’ve even made a dent on the bottle of wine. For our next trip I definitely want to investigate self-catering options. But while I say ‘self’ catering, what that actually means here is that we bring or hire a cook to handle all our culinary needs. At least that way we could serve and keep smaller portions for our resident fusspot and put half-drunk bottles of wine back in the fridge for another day.
That said, I do love a breakfast buffet, so I will have to get creative with how we mix and match the luxury of choice at the start of the day, and something less than fine dining, but more than a tupperware of leftovers, a single fork and a tumbler of wine at the end of it.
Sightseeing is for grown ups
This doesn’t require much imagination or explanation. It just hadn’t really occurred to me that Jasper might be a little on the young side for sight-seeing, because in my mind, everything he does is sight-seeing. Everywhere we go, and everywhere we have ever gone, he has been given the audio tour courtesy of yours truly. I suppose the difference between an ancient monument or mediaeval palace and a garden centre is the other visitors. Someone browsing the novelty mugs or pet cacti probably doesn’t mind the disturbance of an escape baby, while someone who is deep in concentration listening to their own audio tour most definitely does. That said, Jasper was very good. He only got bored after about 45 minutes at which point he started to push me towards the exit. I think his focus lasting that long was largely due to Seema’s uncanny ability to find pictures of ‘moustache men’ which not only kept him interested but resulted in him shouting out ‘tash man’ and stroking his own imaginary facial hair by the end of the tour. It was only a little uncomfortable when he was pointing and shouting at actual men, not ancient rulers in painted murals. And then there was the time he found a mural of a lion to whom he then tried to feed some snacks, much to the amusement and heart melting of the crowds around.
Car travel isn’t all that enjoyable
And so to my last observation. Car travel. It’s not that fun with a small person in the car. It’s not that much fun for me anyway as I suffer from mild motion sickness no matter how short the journey. But it’s less fun when I am being used as Jasper’s private climbing frame. I had requested a baby seat in the car, which the company had provided, but I had forgotten that Jasper isn’t a baby any more, he’s a 12kg toddler monster. The seat they gave was too small, therefore, and I decided that if Seema was OK with being the chief baby-wrangler, we could make do without it. As I mentioned before, many of the most beautiful scenic spots in India are not well connected by air or train, which makes for some very long and winding car rides, by all accounts. In future, we will have to decide if it’s worth carrying our own car seat, both for my own comfort and of course, Jasper’s safety.
So, to summarise. The trip was wonderful, and luxury is certainly not to be sniffed at in this country. But too much of it was lost on us with our little terror in tow. For next time, then, I will try to avoid falling down the ‘ooh isn’t it pretty’ wormhole of judging potential destinations purely by their instagrammableness.
Instead, I will be looking for some or all of the following criteria:
Outdoor space, preferably at ground level
Multi-roomed accommodation
Flexible catering options
Minimal car travel or we take our own car and/or seat
No sword walls
Comments