I just got back from Rajasthan, and honestly? I still feel like I’m floating somewhere between a dream and the desert breeze. There’s something about that state. The colors, the chaos, the quiet—all tangled up into one long, golden memory.
But today, I’m not going to ramble about the forts or food (even though the laal maas deserves its own post, my god). I want to talk about where I stayed—the hotels. Except, calling them “hotels” feels wrong. These were palaces. Literal palaces. Or at least they felt that way.
And trust me—I’ve traveled. I’ve slept in treehouses in Bali, hostels in Berlin, and a very questionable boat in Amsterdam. But nothing, nothing compares to luxury stays in Rajasthan.
Udaipur: The Lake Palace That Ruined All Future Hotels for Me
Let’s start with Udaipur. I stayed at the Taj Lake Palace—you know, the one floating in the middle of Lake Pichola? From the moment the boat (yes, boat) took me across the still waters at sunset, I knew I was screwed. I would never enjoy a regular hotel again.
The place smells like jasmine and old secrets. My room had views of the lake and the Aravalli hills, and the silence there… it echoed. Like, it made you pause. Slow down. Feel things.
The staff greeted me with rose petals and some kind of saffron drink—I still don’t know what it was, but I’d give my left arm to taste it again.
And the food? Ugh. Imagine having dinner on a terrace with candlelight, classical Rajasthani music playing softly, and your own personal chef explaining each dish like it’s a poem. That happened. I cried a little. No shame.
Jodhpur: A Fortress With Turndown Service
Next up was Jodhpur. And this is where I stayed inside Mehrangarh Fort. Okay, technically I stayed next to it, at the Raas Jodhpur, but the view was of the fort, lit up at night like something out of a fever dream.
The hotel itself is this gorgeous blend of 18th-century Haveli architecture and modern design—think sandstone walls, but glass bathrooms. The contrast is weirdly perfect.
Every morning, I had chai on the terrace watching the blue city wake up. Birds swooping between rooftops, kids running through the alleyways, smoke rising from breakfast fires. It felt like I was watching life, quietly, respectfully.
One afternoon, I wandered into Phool Mahal inside the fort. Golden walls, mirrored ceilings—it’s like someone went, “Let’s make this room look like a jewel box,” and just did it. If you’re ever curious about the things to see in Phool Mahal Jodhpur, just… go. You’ll understand.
Side note: I may or may not have spent 30 minutes pretending I was royalty in that room. Don’t judge me.

Jaipur: Where I Dined With Peacocks
And then, of course, Jaipur. The Rambagh Palace. I’m still recovering.
This place was once home to Maharajas. Now, it’s home to spoiled, wide-eyed tourists like me. But they treat you like you’re the royalty.
My room had velvet everything and smelled faintly of sandalwood. A butler (a BUTLER??) brought me masala chai every evening, and on the second night, I had dinner in the garden with—I kid you not—real peacocks strutting nearby. I almost dropped my wine.
There was this one evening where I wandered through the palace halls, barefoot, just soaking it all in. Old photographs of kings, faded rugs, and marble floors that echoed when you walked too fast. I felt like I was walking through time. Like it was letting me in for a little while.
Bikaner (Bonus Stop): The Hidden Gem I Almost Skipped
I hadn’t even planned to go to Bikaner, but someone I met in Jaipur insisted I check out Narendra Bhawan. Best. Decision. Ever.
It’s quirky, nostalgic, and weird in the best way. Every room is styled after a different phase of the last Maharaja’s life—from his English boarding school days to his Bombay jazz club phase. I’m not making this up.
The rooftop pool is ridiculously underrated. And the food… again, I can’t keep talking about food or I’ll never finish this post. But just know: they served me a five-course Marwari tasting menu, and I basically ascended.
Final Thoughts (If I Can Even Summarize This Trip)
You know how sometimes you visit a place and it changes your pace? Rajasthan did that. These hotels—these palaces—weren’t just places to sleep. They were part of the story. They shaped the story.
I left Rajasthan with sand in my shoes, way too many photos of doorways, and a full, happy heart.
If you’re thinking of going and wondering where to stay—go royal. Even if just for a night. Splurge. Indulge. Let yourself live in that old-world fantasy, even briefly.
Trust me. It’s not just about comfort or views. It’s about stepping into a slower, grander version of life for a while. And honestly? We all deserve that.
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