My Rajasthan Rhapsody.
Palaces, Leopards, and a side of Masala.
By Lana Herzan, Travel Concierge Client Experience Designer
They say travel changes you. In April, I had the joy of teaming up with “Magical Mohan” — Mohan Narayanaswamy, the creative force behind Travel Scope — and from the very start, I knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary trip. Mohan didn’t just plan our journey; he composed it — a living symphony of color, spice, history, and heart. And somewhere between the notes, I was changed too.
Delhi: Bubble Baths & Rickshaw Rallies.
Our journey began at The Oberoi, New Delhi — a haven that feels equal parts luxury retreat and Lutyens-era time capsule. From my window, Humayun’s Tomb shimmered through the city’s dusty twilight. The bathtub alone was big enough to vanish in — and almost persuasive enough to keep me there forever.
Almost. Because India doesn’t whisper; it calls.
Old Delhi arrived in a rush of sound and scent: spice carts sizzling, rickshaws weaving through labyrinthine alleys, cows claiming traffic lanes as their own. One minute I was savoring masala chai; the next, I was gripping a cycle rickshaw for dear life, linen blouse and all. (You can probably guess which moment won my heart.)
Agra: A Love Letter in Marble
Next stop: Agra.We stayed at The Oberoi Amarvilas, where even opening your curtains feels like greeting royalty. I woke before dawn for a sunrise view, and watched the Taj transform from pale blush to dazzling ivory. It was as if Shah Jahan himself flipped a celestial light switch.
The Agra Fort was a sandstone city unto itself—parrots, monkeys, tourists, wedding processions, all in a ten-minute mashup. Dinner at Esphahan? A spiritual awakening via dal and live ghazals. Michelin, who?
Udaipur: Venice with a Sari.
Next: Udaipur. The Oberoi Udaivilas had me second-guessing why I’d ever slept elsewhere. Tuk-tuks glided through the old city, leading me to a surprise watercolor session with a family whose ancestors once photographed maharajas. Because why not?
Udaipur is a city of lakes, lanterns, and pure magic. I shopped, painted, and even tried jal sanjhi—painting on water (yes, it’s a thing!). The city usually whispers—until the Mountbatten Supper Club kicks in with Sinatra and Dean Martin on the rooftop, and suddenly you’re dining under the stars, laughing with strangers who already feel like friends.
The next night, a boat carried us to dinner at The Leela Palace beneath a sky jeweled with stars. In Rajasthan, every meal is theater—and every moment, a scene worth remembering.
Jawai: Land of Leopards.
If Udaipur was a fairy tale, Jawai was a wilderness poem. At SUJÁN Jawai Camp, the “tents” are basically five-star suites—safari chic with a Vogue twist. Relais & Châteaux has totally nailed the art of luxury glamping here.
At night, we sat by the fire under a sky full of stars, G&Ts in hand. By day, we bounced through leopard country in open jeeps, with Rabari shepherds in bright red turbans spotting leopards the way I spot croissants in a bakery.
But what really stayed with me wasn’t just the leopards—it was the people. SUJÁN Jawai funds local schools, healthcare, and conservation. A mobile clinic runs six days a week across five villages, and thirteen schools have been adopted to support education. Meeting the children who benefit from these efforts was even more unforgettable than the safari itself.
Narlai: A Dream in Lantern Light
In Narlai, the past doesn’t whisper—it sings. One evening, we descended into a 16th-century stepwell, where a thousand lanterns shimmered like fireflies suspended in stone. Their light flickered across ancient carvings while a lone musician—India’s answer to Bob Dylan—sat cross-legged on a silk pillow, his voice threading through the night like a timeless lullaby. The scene wasn’t a meal; it was pure enchantment.
Just when I thought Rajasthan had reached its crescendo, dawn lifted the curtain once more. “Magical Mohan” had one final surprise: a pre-dawn safari through the stillness of the countryside, ending in a champagne breakfast at the edge of the world. As the sun poured its golden light over the hills, we raised our glasses to a moment so breathtaking, it felt like the final scene of a film I never wanted to end.
Jodhpur: The Blue City & My Red Lipstick.
On to Jodhpur—walls painted cerulean, vendors peddling bangles like life promises. Mehrangarh Fort stood crownlike. I lingered in RAAS, then made my entrance at Umaid Bhawan Palace draped in a red sari. I whispered, “I am royalty,” and for a few golden minutes… I believed it.
What Stole My Heart.
More than the forts, palaces, and peacocks, it was the people who stole my heart. Rajasthanis wear their colors not just on saris and turbans, but in their spirits—kind, generous, endlessly welcoming. From the shepherd who waved us toward leopard tracks to the shopkeeper who insisted on chai, every encounter felt like stepping into a story. They don’t just greet you—they fold you into their world, with kindness and a sparkle in their eyes.
Final Thoughts.
This wasn’t just a trip—it was a masterclass in opulence, culture, and wild beauty. From palace suites to leopard tracks, every moment in Rajasthan felt like a scene in a movie I never wanted to end. The food, the fabrics, the fortresses—each one a love letter to India’s soul.
I went seeking luxury, but I found something far richer: a deeper connection to history, humanity, and myself. India isn’t for the faint of heart—it’s for the full of heart. For the color-drunk, curry-loving, fort-climbing, chaos-embracing traveler who finds joy in honking rickshaws and surprise monkeys. (And if that’s not your vibe, maybe skip Delhi!)
India doesn’t tiptoe. It bursts. It surprises. It hums. It touches. And it leaves you wanting more.
I left a piece of my heart in Rajasthan and will return to reclaim it in October 2026. If you’d like to join me—or pick another date of your own—click here to get in touch.
I hope you’ll join me for the adventure!
—Lana