Ellin Pollachek

Author & Photographer

www.ellinpollachek.com

For those who dream of living like a prince, India may be the place where your dreams come true. Many of India’s splendid palaces have been converted into luxurious hotels.

Both opulent and regal, the palace hotels punctuate India’s vast and rugged terrain with their dream-like facades—both marble and pink sandstone—which have been sculpted from the landscape. Palace walls are inlaid with silver and jade, turquoise and garnet, and the flowers are laid with centuries-old carpets. Peacocks freely strut about, and pistachio-colored parrots squawk from the foliage.

Staying at a palace hotel is a pleasure like no other, and many in the wealthy international set - French, Japanese, English, Egyptians - are experiencing it. A step back in time, a palace is a place in which to be served. Outside his room, the tourist will find a manservant anticipating some request. He can expect desk clerks to treat him as if he were a direct descendant of a Moghul emperor or Lord Mountbatten himself. A sanctuary from modernity, a palace hotel nonetheless offers everything modern. Facials, dry cleaning, billiards, banking, theater, and physicians are never more than a beck and call away.

India's palaces were built in two phases. From the 16th through the 18th centuries the Moghul emperors built their palaces; the British raj inspired more palace construction during the 19th and 20th centuries. In 1948, just after the annexing of India, a new tax law limited the extravagances of the ruling maharajas and maharanis. To maintain palaces, of which many royal families had two or three, became a grave financial burden.

Being an impetuous but practical man, Maharajah Man Singh decided in 1957 thatJaipur, the capital of Rajasthan – a region southwest of Delhi - badly needed a hotel, and to that end, he relinquished the Ram Bagh, his wife's palace. Maharani Gayatri Devi lost her private ivory tower, but India gained its first palace hotel. The 26-room residence opened its doors to the Spanish ambassador, Count Artaza - its first public guest - on Dec. 8,1957. Neither India, its hotel industry, nor the traveler in search of princely treatment and finery has since been the same.
Rajasthan is the logical starting point for a visit to the palace hotels. It is there, as Indian legend has it, that the first prince touched Earth. Born of the sun, the Prince of Rajasthan came to earth carrying a black ostrich feather fan and a symbol of the sun - a gold disc. He started the royal lineage of warriors, the Rajputs, in the city of Udaipur.

So it is in Rajasthan - where caravans from Mrica, Kashmir, China, and Persia exchanged fruit, opium, silks, and arms; where conquerors were made heros and heros lost their lives; where the code of chivalry demanded that a man be more than a man, that a man be a prince - that most Indian palaces can be found.

The Ram Bagh

Begin in Jaipur. A pink, walled city, a world city, Jaipur is the home of Man Singh's Ram Bagh. Built by Ram Singh as a mansion of just four spacious rooms in 1835, by 1887 the Ram Bagh had grown to 26 rooms surrounded by woodland, gardens, and places to play tennis, billiards, and pig-sticking - a sport, similar to bullfighting, the rich played by moonlight. When Man Singh took up residence in the palace in 1925, he arranged for the construction of an official polo court and the conversion of the mansion into a palace. The Ram Bagh became the world's only private residence with polo courts.

Today the Ram Bagh has grown to 120 rooms, each of an individual shape. Dressed in art deoo furniture and bedded down with foot-thick mattresses, the rooms are surprisingly exquisite, coming, as they do, at prices that are surprisingly low.

For a standard single or double room with private bath one pays $45 to $55 per night, not per person. An elaborate suite that includes living room, bedroom, and private balcony overlooking the marble fountains ranges in price from $79 to $92 per night. The most luxurious Royal Suites - four or five rooms with gardencost $195 to $215. Regardless of the economics, the service is always the same: premium.

Gleaming white on the outside, inside the Ram Bagh is powder-pale turquoise. Although ceiling fans would seem perfectly appropriate here, most of the rooms are air-conditioned. The dining hall is almost as large as a football field, but the food is less impressive.
Still, one can't go wrong with grilled fish or tandoori - meat or seafood cooked in a special oven with sauce on the sideor a curry. In general, India's Chinese dishes are quite good, and if you have a taste for one that's not on the menu, ask for it. Entrees run from $3.50 to $5.00 in the best restaurants, and appetizers, soups, and desserts are about $2.50 each.

Impossible to resist, the Ram Bagh shopping arcade's dozens of shops sell exquisite silks, unset stones - this seems to be the place to buy tiger's-eyes - and inlaid marble.

While the temptation is to sit under the Ram Bagh's columned portico sipping soda and fresh lime forever, there are palaces open to visitors that are no longer private residences but have not been converted into hotels. Leave the manicured perfection of the Ram Bagh lawn and hire a guide to take you to the old city's great wall.

Within the wall lies the Hawa Mahal, or Palace of the Winds. Not actually a building, the facade is a fanciful display of balconies and lattice work built to uphold the tradition of purdah or veil. Originally solely a Moslem custom, purdah was adopted by all Indian women for protection against Islamic Moghuls who repeatedly ravaged India's northern lands and, in their excitement at seeing female faces, made off with the unveiled women. The Hawa Mahal was built as a haven from which royal ladies and their maidservants could view festivals without wearing the veil.

After mingling with the people, pricing silver anklets and ivory bracelets, venture further into India's past. Beyond the crowds, beyond the brightly dressed women, beyond the camels and elephants and street hawkers, visit the Amber (pronounced A'mair) Palace. Seven miles from the heart 'of Jaipur it stands trium. phant and uninhabited except for an occasional tour group, a nostalgic Indian, or a lone traveler looking for beauty and legends of past glories.

Set at the mouth of a rocky mountain gorge, the palace is reflected against a peacock blue lake. Take a car as far as the foothill. From there, continue up the ramp on foot or seated' in style on a brocade-lined howdah (seat) atop an elephant.

Embedded in the sandstone are stories of the past, stories told in glass mosaics and porcelain tiles, stories reflected in mirror work and silver filigree. For six centuries the house of Amber ruled as the capital of Rajasthan; when it lost favor among Moghul rulers, it was abandoned for Jaipur. But Amber still maintains the same dignity it held centuries ago.

Whereas Rajasthan's capital is pink, Udaipur is white. To Jaipur's crowds Udaipur offers silence. Remote, Udaipur is entrenched in its own history. Its energy is romantic, its streets white. washed, narrow, and twisting. From the high wall of the City Palace the driver points into the distance, past the clouds and the mountains, to the Lake Palace Hotel perched on an island in the Pichola Lake. Like the island and the palace, the lake is man-made - a dazzling spectacle for even the most jaded traveler. A rowboat awaits the hotel's guests and ferries them across the placid water. The Guide to Rajasthan, published by the Indian govern men t, calls the Lake Palace a "whim of an 18th century ruler" another fantasy made real.

Like marble jewel boxes, each of the 85 rooms is set with stained glass windows and decorated with items from the first maharaja'_ personal glass and jewelry collection.

Walls are inlaid with sterling silver and stone, but best of all, each room faces both the Pichola Lake and an inner courtyard that is set around a baguette shaped pool sweetly scented by blossoming gardenias, roses, baby's breath, and bougainvillea. It is here that Roger Moore played 007 in the movie Octopussy.

Again the temptation is never to leave, to have meals ordered in and take an occasional stroll to the terrace. For a vision of the past on a grander scale however, you must travel back to the City Palace, back in time. Now a museum, the City Palace rides high against the skyline, hugging the lake shore as if ready to escape an intruder - or enemy troops.

Inside, rooms are lush with mirror work and tales linearly painted on Chinese tiles. Pictures tell of prowess in the fields, of barking dogs stalking graceful deer, and of gallant Rajputs armed with spears and arrows. In this world lions, panthers, and tigers ruled - until man had his way.

One story embedded in a palace shrine: Raja Bhim, the king, promised his beautiful daughter, Krishna Kumari, to the prince of Bombay, hoping to avoid war. In order to avoid war with Jodhpur, he also promised Krishna Kumari's hand to the prince of Jodhpur. Of course Raja Bhim's strategy not only did not avoid war, it guaranteed it.

Unable to bear the thought that she was the cause of such suffering, Krishna Kumari, in the Rajput tradition, drank a poison potion of kasoomba blossoms. She saved Udaipur, but her death drove her mother to suicide by the same means. Raja Bhim, to console himself, spent the rest of his life building the rich red and silver mirrored shrine to his daughter.

Teatime at the Lake Palace - a manservant brings tea and biscuits - and mealtime are opportunities to retreat from Rajasthan's draining heat. The question is not only what to eat, but where: on the veranda in the main dining hall or in your room? Because the Taj chain runs the Lake Palace and the Ram Bagh, menus and prices are similar, but chefs differ and so does the food; the Lake Palace comes out on top.

Aside from standard continental offerings, the menu includes vegetarian Indian dishes likepanir- tiny blocks of cheese filled with either spinach or peas; vegetable-filled samosas - vegetables sauteed in mild curry, stuffed in airlight crust and fried; or meat. Try murg rogan josh, a rich chicken curry; murg hawamahal, a batter-fried chicken; or anyone of a dozen lamb dishes. Because cows are sacred in Hindu tradition, beef, if available, has been imported and generally is very tough. There is a great variety of wonderful breads; chapa tis are oven-baked, puris are fried, and parothas, also fried, are usually stuffed with dal (lentils) or potatoes. Add yogurt and you have a meal.

Never pass up dessert...Jelabes- flour, butter, and sugar syrup-are deep-fried and served warm. For a more sophisticated flavor taste ladoos, or sweet balls; halva, which is totally unlike our American halvah; and sweet noodles. Diehard Westerners will find there's a table laden with chocolate mousse, meringues, butter cookies, and layer cakes.

The Umaid Bhawan Palace

Jodhpur, in the stark Thar desert, is a short plane ride away, but attracts the more adventurous, hardy travelers. Few Americans make it this far. The Umaid Bhawan Palace stands high on a hill. As the sun sets behind it, the structure appears to bay at the moon. Fortresslike, the palace consists of 347 rooms, countless recreational areas, dining rooms, secret stairwells, and a 700-foot frontage, It is run by the India Tobacco Corp. (ITC) chain of hoteliers and offers everything from shoe shines to hair styling. Billiards, indoor swimming, golf, squash, and tennis are available on the grounds.

Inside, the warm sandstone facade mellows the chilly marble. Like other palaces, the Umaid Bhawan is an architectural mix-and-match, Whereas the Maharaja Sir Umaid Singh commissioned the palace, English architects built it. The Beaux Arts style staircase is anything but Indian. The rooms are decorated in a combination of art deco and raj splendor. Paintings of the Duke of Windsor dot the main-floor walls; apparently, when on a tiger hunt, he spent a fortnight here.

The ultimate luxury is the palace's spaciousness. Finished in black marble with art deco brass fixtures and a large lion-footed bathtub, the bathroom could sleep six. But because Jodhpur is less frequently visited, rooms are considerably less expensive than in other palace hotels.

Standing before the palace's main gate in the last moments of daylight, run your fingers over 15 pairs of handprints. They are all that remain of the maharanis who, following Indian custom, committed suttee by throwing themselves on their husbands' funeral pyres. Belief had it that male souls, helpless alone, needed the souls of their wives with them in order to pass peacefully into the other world.

Removing Jodhpur's night chill is as easy as having a turbaned servant stop by and light the 1930s fireplace in your suite. In the theater room you may catch an Indian puppet show or a Kathakale dance based on ancient Hindu rituals, as a young man serves you wine or scotch, peanuts, and coconut chips.


The Oberoi Palace

Those in search of a new landscape must visit Kashmir, often called Paradise on Earth. Here Shah Jehan, the Taj Mahal's creator, planted the Shalimar Gardens for his beloved wife. And in the capital city of Srinagar, Maharaja Sir Hari Singh built his summer palace. Taking after Moghul emperors who lived amidst opulence and by self-indulgence, Hari Singh denied himself nothing; he covered the palace floors with Bukhara carpets, filled the gardens with elaborate fountains, and installed elegant furnishings.

In addition to restaurants the palace offers a poolside bar, baby sitters, sameday laundry, a health club, a beauty salon, and complete secretarial services. Rooms are air-conditioned and wired for four-channel music.
Unlike Rajasthan, Kashmir has few I fortresses. Here the traveler spends time I outdoors. From March through October the gardens are in bloom, and in winter Kashmir, the Alps of Asia, beckons to skiers.

Although the palace has its own golf course, any serious golfer will want to visit the world's highest - and possibly most lavish - 18-hole golf course. A car or bus takes you 32 miles to Gulmarg, or you can stop just short of it and travel the rest of the way on a pony.
At an altitude of 5,200 feet, one needn't leave Srinagar to feel heavenly. Walk a few yards from the palace to Dal Lake and take a shikara (gondola) with an overhead canopy and silk curtains to the floating gardens. Rising from the lake's crystal-clear waters like new growth in spring, the floating gardens' beauty is eternal and effervescent before a backdrop of the Himalayas - the mountains of the gods.

Houseboats by the dozens dot the lake. Flowers line the rooftops and sweeten the air. Inside the boats you'll find oak dining halls, four-poster beds, and Kashmiri carpets covering both walls and floors. Ask to be served dinner in one of the deluxe houseboats, and the wish is yours.

You are in India. And India is a land that has known many princes, a land where princely dreams come true.