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Travel like a maharaja
Writer and editor Steve Slon recently toured India on an itinerary that included stopovers at some of its outstanding hotels, restaurants and attractions. Forbes Traveler asked Slon to keep a diary for us. Borrowing a title from E.M. Forster's classic, this is an upscale view of the subcontinent.
New Delhi, Day 1
Midnight at the airport. My wife Estelle and I are bewildered after a 12-hour flight, but the moment we step off the plane we are taken in hand by no less than three guides who collect our bags and move us efficiently through the crowds. The place is teeming with people carrying parcels of all shapes, from suitcases to loose bundles to duct-taped cardboard boxes. Outside, on this hazy night in early March the air is warm, clingy. In the background, a faint acrid smell.
In the heart of New Delhi: In spite of the hour, dozens of sidewalk vendors are still plying their wares all along the major avenues. Small knots of men are standing around carts that sell tea or small plates of food. The famous, emaciated, sacred cows amble about freely, often taking up the whole lane or even lying down in it, as if they own the joint. Which, come to think of it, they do.
We are to stay at a friend’s apartment for the weekend before embarking on our travels. They live in a gated, guarded community. The building is shabby on the outside, as all but the newest, ultra posh residences seem to be, but lush within, decorated with luxurious tapestries and paintings of deities, the floors lined with elegant Persian carpets. Our gracious hosts, Sudha and Dennis Gallagher have stayed up to greet us. We are shown to our room, then share a midnight glass of Indian wine, which is welcome more for the social occasion than for the quality of the beverage (India viticulture has a way to go). We go to bed and pass out and the next thing we know it’s 5 AM.
First Class Indulgence: Skipping customs. While most tourists must fight their way through humongous snaking lines and the famously indifferent bureaucracy of Indian customs, as first class travelers with Greaves Travel we are met right outside the gangway of the airplane by a special escort who takes us to the desk of an unoccupied, you-might-almost-say friendly duanier.
New Delhi, Day 2
Sudha and Dennis feed us an Indian breakfast of coconut fritters, pancakes made of lentils, and homemade yoghurt. Instant coffee in a china tea pot with a tea cozy over it. Everything is fragrant or savory or spicy hot. And if it isn’t—the coconut fritters, for example—you dip it in a tangy mint sauce, and then it is. All this is cooked and served by their live-in maid. (House servants are common in India for the middle and upper classes, as are chauffeurs.)
The weekend is shopping and more shopping, as Sudha and her driver squire us around to her favorite clothing and jewelry stores. It seems that shopping is a hobby, a lifestyle among well-heeled Indians. (I know what you’re thinking: yes, it’s the same in the U.S., but somehow the focus on shopping and talking about it seems more obsessive in India.) Without intending to, we quickly get drawn in. By the time we leave, we have filled two extra suitcases—big ones—and shipped home a carpet.
First Class Indulgence: Lunch at the spectacular Imperial Hotel, the grand entrance of which is lined with 24 king palms. Inside, the walls are jammed with a collection of notable British art with an Indian theme. In the hallways, giant crystal chandeliers hover above gleaming marble floors, and huge mahogany tables are topped with exotic floral arrangements. We dine at the 1911 Brasserie where the maitre d’ sports an elaborate silk turban of crimson and safron, called a safa, which, untied is 30 meters long. The tail of the safa hangs down his back, below his knees. I order the most delicious lamb curry I have ever tasted, spicy but not too spicy, and wash it down with a Kingfisher beer.
See a slideshow of first class India highlights.
New Delhi, Day 3
More shopping in the afternoon. I’m hooked.
First Class Indulgence: Before the shopping trip Estelle and I each get a fantastic 45-minute foot massage from Sudha’s regular Sunday morning massage guy. This in-home service costs a pittance, about $12 each.
Agra and the Taj Mahal, Day 4
On the four hour ride to Agra (first class fare: about $15), we are served a constant stream of food—breakfast cereal with bananas, coffee and tea, cakes, fritters and more. We are collected at the station by our new Agra-based guide and driver. At the outer gates of the Taj Mahal, one is swarmed by vendors selling cheap souvenirs and beggars, some abject, others so deformed you can’t bear to look. Next you are herded through a security check. Once inside, there is an outer courtyard, and then…there it is, glowing in the early morning light. You can’t help but feel exalted. A tingle at the back of your neck. The overwhelming beauty, puts you, for a brief instant, out of time.
First Class Indulgence: Stay at the opulent five-star Oberoi Amarvilas hotel, adjacent to the famous monument. Ride to the Taj Mahal in a horse-drawn carriage adorned with flowers. MORE...
See a slideshow of first class India highlights.
