JUST LIKE ANCIENT INDIA...
(but with espresso, power showers and proper electricity)
SOMEWHERE in the deepest countryside of Rajasthan, between the cities of Udaipur and Jodhpur, a table is laid out under an awning. Nearby, beneath a tree, four men in white turbans cook a feast in an array of bubbling cauldrons and bury their cannonball-shaped rolls of bread to cook underground in ashes from the fire.
A boy shepherd tries to keep his curious water buffalo away as we laze on a line of charpoys – Indian daybeds – while the meal is prepared. When we finally sit down at the table and start to eat, the water buffalo and gentle cows can no longer resist their temptation to see what is happening and amble towards us.
It is a scene that could be taking place a hundred years ago when India was dominated by British viceroys, or 400 years ago when the Mughal emperors reigned. The bread is cooked in ashes the same way, and our host is a member of the royal family of Udaipur that has ruled this area since the 7th Century.
The popular way to see India today is to visit the Taj Mahal, see the gorgeous cities of Rajasthan, and stay in gloomy palaces with intermittent wi-fi, watery coffee, appalling lighting and shambolic bathrooms.
But I wanted something different, both more authentic yet also more modern. I wanted to see rural India, get out of the cities, taste the food and see the wildlife, villages and farms. I wanted good wi-fi (because I had to read the last draft of my TV series), proper espresso, a powershower, a swimming pool and well-lit bedroom so that I could read.
Thanks to a new generation of highly creative, hospitable Rajput princes, this is all now possible, and I went with a party of 14 friends and family, varying in age from 13 to 75. We relished every moment. From Delhi, we drove to Jaipur to see Hawa Mahal, the ‘Palace of Winds’, rode up to the Amber Fort on elephants, and enjoyed the reckless mayhem of tuk-tuk drives through the old city.
We stayed at The Royal Heritage Haveli, a converted 18th Century shooting lodge, technically owned by the Maharajah of Jaipur. It is run by three members of his wider family: Pradip Singh, tall, powerful and always in a wide-brimmed hat; his wife Angelique; and his elegant and charming daughter Shyam Bhavi, who joined us for dinner.
The hotel has a modern pool, wi-fi and espresso, while my room was gorgeously turquoise and bijou, had a power shower and proper reading lights.
After two nights, we drove five hours to Chhatra Sagar, a tented camp on a dam. The camp has been created by Harsh
Vardhan and his brother Nandi in the most beautiful location I have ever visited.
They, too, are Rajput aristocrats and live in a house on the dam. ‘Tented camp’ doesn’t quite capture the combination of glamour and simplicity of this heavenly place, and it is meticulously run. Harsh designed the tents that are astonishingly luxurious, with granite bathrooms, and doors that open on to the lake. His taste is exquisite.
There are only 11 tents and they are always booked. Harsh rises at dawn to supervise the arrival of fresh vegetables. The food is breathtaking – old family recipes, cooked by the brothers’ beautiful wives.
Later Nandi took us on a walk through the forest, accompanied by a red-turbaned assistant who bore his telescope/camera and a birdwatching book, in which he pointed out the species we saw – babblers, bulbuls, and rockers, and antelope. Until recently, a leopard lived on the hill above.
Young and old in our group equally adored this camp, but after two nights we drove three hours to Dev Shree, in the village of Deogarh in countryside near Udaipur.
Like Chhatra Sagar, this is another example of royal creativity that fuses majestic tradition with modernity.
Our exuberant host, Shatrunjai Singh, a member of the royal house of Udaipur, and his wife Bhavna, have built a new palace combining a family home with seven guest rooms. Shatrunjai’s ancestors built fortresses and the big Mahal above the village but for centuries none of the Deogarh family has built anything new.
Now Shatrunjai and Bhavna have created a traditional, magnificent, luxurious home, built in the Rajasthani style, combining ‘heritage’ beauty with all the comforts demanded by modern travellers – a pale yellow palace, designed around an open courtyard.
The wide veranda overlooks the lawn where mongooses play in the morning, and there are beautiful views of a lake embellished with the silhouettes of the family cenotaphs and fort. The swimming pool stands within a palm grove surrounded by charpoys on which to siesta. The food, served by staff whose service is flawless, is again delicious. One day for lunch t served a meal of Bombay ‘str food’ – crisp dumplings with masala dunked in tamarind water, aloo and pav bhajis, po sabzi with aubergine and tom paste in buns, and cold beetro soup for the less adventurous among our group.
Deogarh is an unspoilt villag friendly and safe – the girls haggled and shopped happily.
In the evenings, Shatrunjai a Bhavna each piloted a jeep fo thrilling, surprising ‘safari’ drives into the countryside, bumping down dirt lanes and through small villages of wav children and bewildered cows
One day we visited a temple where we fed sacred fish, and on another occasion we drank cocktails at sunset over a flamingo-filled lake.
But the best was yet to come Their cousin, a village elder known as Bapu (full name – Thakur Gordhan Singhji Vilan who limps following a nocturn collision between his motorbi and a water buffalo, invited u a village feast he cooked with
three brothers. The food was very different and Shatrunjai demonstrated how to crumble bread (cooked underground) to form the base for the laal maas.
Three helpings later the water buffalo decided to investigate, but the shepherd boy redirected them so they passed us lazily. Not as lazy as us, though. We lay on the charpoys out of the sun, just as the Indian farmboys do, and dozed away the afternoon, before our exciting drive home. This is the perfect way to see the real India. Afterwards we drove to Udaipur with its Lake Palace, then flew to Delhi for a last night in the Imperial Hotel, one of the best in the world. But nothing can beat the splendour of those three extraordinary hotels, run by the families who live in them – and nothing could beat Bapu’s feast.