Neemrana Heritage Hotel in Rajasthan - Travel Diaries

Neemrana heritage hotel, India

The Moon and the Maharajah

A luxury hotel review
Driving out of Delhi along the Jaipur highway in the thick of fumes and evening traffic you suddenly feel that the road would never end. It seems as if there is a plot to suck you into the churning dust and smoke of a rocketing nation and somewhere between the clamouring Haryanvi bus drivers shouting madly for custom and the obscene outgrowths – the glowing pyramids of progress, that dot the road to Gurgaon and beyond, somewhere in between, they will leave you cold, naked and hungry. And then you wonder why at all you set out to discover what the Conde Nast Traveller describes as `India’s best kept secret.’ Till you reach the Neemrana Fort-Palace hotel and find that there can be plots sublime and pleasant.


Beside that dusty highway about 120 kms out from Delhi sits this old palace hidden from the road, crouching among the Aravallis, waiting surreptitiously. And from the moment you step in through the huge wooden gates and before you realize it, the spell has been cast.


The fortified palace exudes a quaint nostalgia from its ramparts, from every dipping corridor, quiet balcony, lonely staircase and hidden nook for lovers and businessmen. The fine art of conservation is also evident all over fort Neemrana which was begun to be built from the 15th century by the descendants of Prithvi Raj Chauhan III. The maharajah – Raja Raj Deo who selected the location was evidently a man of great refinement. The rough stone passage through the gate that circles up towards the upper level smells of history as you reach Holi Kund - the first of the courtyards, and from there take the breathtaking view of the higher levels. The whole structure is draped in little electric stars.


I step into my room (the rooms are `Mahals’) almost near the highest level, guided by the mild-mannered ushers in red kurtas who speak among themselves in the local dialect. The maharajah’s taste has been expertly recreated in the décor of this and every room, every hall, every garden and hidden bower. Even the `loos have views’ says the brochure and to my amazement I find they do. There is a library for the intellectually inclined and an ayurvedic spa for the beautiful people who might want to linger.


Just outside my room - the Ban Mahal (Jungle House) is a shallow swimming pool on a terrace. The view from here flies straight over the hills to where moving headlamps roll on towards Delhi or Jaipur. The Amphitheatre – modeled after the original – a place for cultural programmes, is two or three levels below us. We explore the fort going down shadowy staircases leading to secret courtyards with tables laid out. Magical vistas await us at every turn.


The St Emilion I drink before dinner plays with my senses. The people around me look as if from another world, we all assembled here for a secret retreat. I make friends with Anu, she is a poet from Lucknow. She speaks in that refined Hindi that is never far from Urdu. I have left my girlfriend in Calcutta!


I look around and can hear the music wafting from the amphitheatre. The king and his men are sitting cross-legged on cushions laid out in the galleries. We join them. A beautiful Rajasthani girl is dancing with earthen pots on her head. One...two...three their numbers increase, the musicians sway slightly with the melody they weave. Naked flame torches gurgle in bright delight as we are transported five hundred years back to a time of kings and courtiers and the grand style. A gibbous moon had risen.


The Taj Mahal’s fans are legion but I will any day put my vote for a fort-palace like Neemrana or some of the old temples of India. I am not much of a marble man and fort Neemrana palace thanks are also due to the conservators and the restorers) amply reminds us what understated grandeur is all about – the touchstone of a classic. The acclaimed travel-writer Pico Iyer describing  the Neemrana heritage hotel in Rajasthan writes, `This is an absolutely enchanting and magical location, which has taught me in the deepest way about Indian life and art and grace.’


The French chef serves an interesting spread at the buffet, at the Hanging Gardens - a patch of green on the second level, on art-nouveau tables covered with white tablecloths and artists and NGOs and western visitors for company. Between ratatouille and rogan josh we make more friends and plan to do some star watching that night.


Two flights up, one bathed in electric incandescence, the other moonlit and skirting the still pool waters, I am back at the Jungle House. The trident of Shiva and a damaru rests against one of the stone columns in my room, the huge four poster bed where I plan to sleep is from another time. But the toilets are modern as is the unobtrusive minibar and a hidden coffee-maker. Nath and Wacziarg the present owners of these properties have put a lot of attention to detail, guest comfort and a kingly style. Anu recites Ghalib in her hauntingly beautiful voice. The damaru plays on its own.


But the stargazers are knocking at my door. We discover this citadel built by magicians, bit by enigmatic bit as we walk down forlorn corridors, catch starlight dripping through intricate jaffrie-work below pink Jaipur stone arches. As we climb higher levels the moon reaches down caressing us. Far in the village below, a boisterous music rises and drowns the old fort and the hills. Then as suddenly as it had risen it is gone. The amphitheatre is deserted, night lamps glow from the Francisi Mahal, the Sheesh Mahal and the forty other rooms of the palace. Mysterious entities multiply as shadows crowd the tantalizing passageways and verandahs. We smoke cigarettes sitting below old brocade umbrellas. Near the highest levels of the fort a thin staircase draw us up higher. A shadow looms in the darkness of a cupola. Alone the king smoking his hookah, while the entire world dozes off to a sweet slumber below the lovely moonlight.
(This is a lightly edited version of a piece published recently in The Statesman newspaper. This article belongs to a series of luxury hotel reviews and restaurant reviews I have been writing, that might someday become a book)
Copyright reserved by author - Rajat Chaudhuri. All rights reserved.