Few countries besides India leave me feeling so exasperated and so exhausted and yet so eager to return. Though the subcontinent has much to offer the lotus-eating sybarite, it is not the place to go in search of rest and relaxation. India is a destination for those who wish to return home with stories that even future generations may remember (my cousins and I still talk about the Sikh couple our grandparents befriended at the Taj Mahal). The travel here can sometimes be challenging, but it’s often awe-inspiring and always rewarding.

Because it’s been a few years since my last visit, I wanted a classic experience of India: the iconic Golden Triangle of Delhi, Jaipur and Agra. This time, thanks to much-improved highways, my traveling companion and I turned the journey into an unforgettable road trip. Valuing my sanity and safety, I had our Travel Office arrange for drivers to handle India’s rule-challenged streets.

The Oberoi, New Delhi

We started in India’s capital territory, home to its most important airport and almost 35 million people. Guides elsewhere often pooh-poohed Delhi as too congested, but our driver whisked us around with (mostly) admirable speed. We covered a lot of ground, ranging from the crumbling ancient ruins of Mehrauli to much newer Old Delhi, dating from the 17th century, on the opposite side of the metropolis. We stayed right in between, in New Delhi.

Closed between 2016 and 2018, The Oberoi, New Delhi underwent a massive renovation and reduced its room count from 283 to 220. It stands amid the broad avenues of the government quarter, which was laid out in the early 20th century, overlooking a golf course on one side and Humayun’s Tomb on the other. The landmark tomb helped inspire the Taj Mahal, but the leafy fairways are the superior view. The hotel building, a concrete box with windows, is not a landmark. But we didn’t have to look at it much, except during the couple of hours we spent relaxing beside the well-serviced garden swimming pool. (The comprehensive spa also has an indoor pool.)

Once through security — most high-end Indian hotels guard their entrances — we passed a clubby bar and an expensive clothing boutique to reach reception, where we had a comically clumsy check-in. A trainee would take some information and step away, and while she was gone, another employee would come up to request the same information. But the staff at The Oberoi are all so kind and welcoming, I couldn’t muster much annoyance.

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The (almost) floor-to-ceiling windows of our Premier Plus Room faced the golf course, which looked more like a forest. The junior suitelike space was warmed by wood floors, silk accent pillows and framed photos of local scenes, and a walk-in closet provided plenty of storage. The bath was also appealing, with its in-mirror lighting, dressing table and freestanding tub by the window. A Premier Plus differs from a Premier only in that the former affords access to the rather useless ground-floor Residents’ Lounge (it doesn’t serve breakfast, and its happy hour conflicted with our restaurant reservations).

We had a tasty multicourse dinner at Dhilli, which serves elegantly presented renditions of local fare in a rather charmless dining room. On the top floor is a more stylish Chinese restaurant, Baoshuan, and one of the few rooftop bars in Delhi, Cirrus 9, an ideal place for creative cocktails at sunset. Each morning, I looked forward to the lavish buffet breakfasts at 360º.

The ideal location, sweeping views, ample natural light in the accommodations and stylish Indian décor make The Oberoi worth considering. Traditionalists will likely prefer The Imperial New Delhi hotel’s art deco architecture and lavish colonial atmosphere. The Taj Mahal, New Delhi has somewhat dated interiors, but it’s even more central, its views are also enviable, and it has a proper club floor.

The Johri

Once past the traffic of Delhi, we sailed along a two-year-old eight-lane highway for much of the way to Jaipur, passing green pastures and fields ablaze with yellow mustard flowers. After about four hours, we arrived in the capital of Rajasthan, the famous Pink City, so called because buildings in the historic center must be painted a certain shade of salmon-orange.

My own rosy-hued memory of Jaipur encouraged me to book one of the five accommodations at The Johri, a restored haveli (mansion) in the heart of the old quarter. Through a courtyard is the vegetarian restaurant, the property’s main amenity and one of the top dining rooms in the whole Golden Triangle area. Its bar concocts some of the best cocktails in India, and the beautifully presented food left me with no craving for meat.

A jewel of a courtyard behind the restaurant has a petite lounge and the reception desk, staffed by unfailingly warm and cheerful employees. One of them led us to the two-room Moti Suite on the top floor, with windows opening to small private patio (most other suites have windows facing the courtyard).

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I appreciated the airy neutral-toned space that incorporated period details and contemporary elements. Wainscoting of polished plaster was outlined in black, and fan lights topped doors and windows. Natural linen, cotton and sisal softened the suite’s hard edges. Besides the large bedroom and the shower-only bath, we had a dressing room and a separate living room with a day bed.

It was surprisingly quiet, considering The Johri’s central location (Indian drivers honk incessantly). Counterintuitively, being in the heart of Jaipur isn’t much of an advantage. The vaunted Johri Bazaar nearby is just a broad traffic-choked boulevard — a far cry from the souks of Marrakech or the Grand Bazaar of Istanbul. Few of its colorful clothing, spice and jewelry shops look very tempting nowadays. Off the old quarter’s main avenues, ugly lanes of ill-preserved buildings contain little of interest. Motorbikes pass within inches of pedestrians, making exploring unpleasant in any case.

The Johri is a lovely haveli with a commendable staff and superb restaurant, but its unappealing location and lack of amenities make it a poor choice for bedding down.

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Rajmahal Palace Raas Jaipur

In Jaipur, it’s wiser to stay just outside the congested center at a place like the Rajmahal Palace. Gardens surround the hotel, making it an oasis, yet it’s quite convenient for excursions to top attractions like the sprawling City Palace, the immense and sculptural astronomical instruments of the Jantar Mantar royal observatory, the Alhambra-like Amber Fort and the lacy Hawa Mahal (Palace of Winds). Plus, many of the best restaurants and shops are outside the old city walls.

In 2021, the estimable Raas group took over the 13-room hotel, and I was curious how the 18th-century palace was faring under its new management (Jaipur’s royal family still owns the property). We checked in while sipping welcome drinks on a sofa in the Bar, an extravagant space of cypress-speckled wallpaper, marble fireplaces, monumental oil paintings and arches trimmed in gold. A grand staircase lined with intricate marble screens led up to our Palace Suite, one of four in the hotel.

The open-plan Resident’s Suite had a regally symmetrical layout and elaborate décor incorporating gilt-framed mirrors, lavender botanical-print wallpaper, a huge crystal chandelier and a striped seating group facing a mantelpiece. Up a couple of stairs, the spacious bath had an ample shower, a huge separate tub and the suite’s only window. Even so, soundproofing proved inadequate. We could hear distant car horns, the call to prayer at dawn and people chatting in the hallway. At least the hotel placed earplugs on the nightstands.

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After aperitifs at the romantic garden patio, illuminated by fire pits and candles, we had a delicious dinner at the property’s Indian restaurant, the aptly named 51 Shades of Pink, including spicy fall-off-the-bone lamb and fried eggplant in tangy tamarind sauce. On the way back to our room, we spotted a fashion magazine editor and TV personality having a nightcap in the wood-paneled Polo Lounge.

In the cool winter mornings, we sat down to à la carte breakfasts in the light-drenched Colonnade, where we dined on Indian-spiced scrambled eggs and rice-flour pancakes topped with lentil stew, coconut and tomato chutney. Afternoons were warm enough to recline in loungers by the heated swimming pool with glasses of surprisingly good local rosé. I wish I’d had time to have a treatment in the spa, but I stuffed our schedule with touring and shopping. 

Raas manages the Rajmahal Palace with aplomb. The accommodations are literally palatial, and the staff members are elegant but friendly. The larger Taj Rambagh Palace is almost as conveniently located for sightseeing, but the more distant Oberoi Rajvilas is better suited to a couple of days of on-property activities and relaxation following an exploration of Jaipur (both are recommended hotels). I considered also reviewing the new Raffles, but it’s in a charmless neighborhood on the far side of town from the airport and reportedly most popular for local staycations and weddings.

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Six Senses Fort Barwara

We headed farther afield to relax. Our driver took us about three hours south to the little Rajasthani town of Chauth Ka Barwara. On an adjacent hilltop, the 48-suite Six Senses Fort Barwara occupies a restored 14th-century fortified palace with thoughtfully integrated contemporary additions. A striking modern tunnel connects the outer and inner gates, from which a series of walkways, corridors and indoor-outdoor lounges lead up to the splendid lobby (reportedly the maharajah’s former bedchamber).

Our room was ready, but feeling peckish, we headed to the Rani Bagh patio restaurant for a refreshing lunch of roasted watermelon with herbed tahini and seared local singhara fish with grilled-vegetable couscous, accompanied by mojitos made with cardamom-infused vodka. Our umbrella-shaded table faced the lengthy main swimming pool, framed by loungers and graceful colonnades. I was loath to depart such a blissful setting, but curiosity about our Fort Suite overtook me.

Although we booked the smallest accommodation category, we hardly felt cramped in the 753-square-foot space. Our suite was in a new wing, but it had ample character, with bas-reliefs of potted plants and geometric wooden lattices. In the living room, a sofa nestled into a scalloped niche facing a trunk that bore plates of marigolds and fruits. The television (our first of the trip) could be rotated to face either the sofa or the bed, which was crowned with mosquito netting. I loved the shimmering marble bath, not least for its large walk-in closet, but instead of the terrace described on the hotel website, we had a useless smoking room.

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I most certainly made time for a treatment in the atmospheric spa, an impressive complex in the former women’s palace. The restorative Ayurveda Experience was a pleasure, and I dozed off during the wonderfully lengthy scalp massage at the end.

I also enjoyed excursions arranged by the hotel. We skipped the popular five-hour tiger safaris in Ranthambore National Park, having visited before. Instead, I rose early one morning for a scenic private sunrise hike in the hills near the hotel, a memorable way to work up an appetite for the ample breakfast buffet. And we took a guided walk in Chauth Ka Barwara, which sees few tourists. Charming, curious residents would come up to greet us and practice their English.

Each evening, we’d head to the Cortile courtyard for aperitifs. Bordered by a half-ruined fortress wall, illuminated by fire pits and oil lamps and enlivened by traditional musicians, the space was utterly transporting. Patio tables beside heat lamps were hot commodities at dinner, but the vaulted interior of the restaurant was also a pleasant place to dine.

Service at the restaurants could be quite slow, and I spent so long waiting in the spa lounge that I wondered if my massage had been forgotten. But such is the beauty of the resort and the friendliness of its staff, I recommend it wholeheartedly.

The Oberoi Amarvilas

My consolation at checkout was that Agra was our next destination. We broke up the six-hour drive from Chauth Ka Barwara with stops for lunch and to tour the restored ruins of Fatehpur Sikri, capital of the Mughal Empire in the late 16th century. From there, it was less than 90 minutes to the 102-room Oberoi Amarvilas.

Now, was it necessary to re-review this magnificent urban resort that overlooks the Taj Mahal? I assured my beleaguered accountant that it was, but really, I went because I could. What a fool I’d be, to pass up the opportunity to stay here and marvel once again at one of the world’s greatest monuments.

I felt a surge of excitement at the sight of the doorman, dressed in his formal tunic and turban, standing beside the sandstone hotel gate. Walkways spanning a fountain-studded pool led to reception, a great coffered cylinder capped by an ornate dome. We passed by the front desk to a cozier but equally palatial lounge for welcome drinks. Arched windows framed the Taj Mahal.

At last, we were shown to our Premier Room With Balcony. The smallest of our accommodations on the trip, it nevertheless was quite comfortable. Past the striking bath clad in white marble and peacock-blue panels, the bedroom contained an armchair, a wood desk embellished with bone and a marble side table. It was inlaid with semiprecious stone in the style of the Taj Mahal, clearly visible from our balcony, which was furnished with a table and two chairs. I immediately ordered flutes of sparkling wine from room service.

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We tore ourselves away from the balcony from time to time, to dine on flavorful (but not very spicy) thali platters in the romantic Esphahan restaurant and international dishes at Bellevue, where I especially enjoyed the spinach pappardelle with rich lamb ragout and fresh red chiles. And the pool was irresistible. Sunken in terraced gardens punctuated by fountains and domed pavilions, the lapis-hued pool beautifully contrasted the fringed, jewel-toned umbrellas shading the loungers.

Our first morning, we headed out early to get to the Taj Mahal before sunrise. Our guide wisely suggested making a beeline for the building itself, to pass groups who paused to take photos and listen to their tour leaders expound. We had the interior, where an exquisite inlaid marble screen surrounds replicas of the royal graves, almost entirely to ourselves. On the east side of the building, we finally stopped to take in the scene. Perhaps only a dozen other people were there. Fog from the sacred Yamuna River rose up and obscured the opposite bank. The white mist just touched the base of the monument, turning the Taj Mahal into a heavenly apparition emerging from a cloud. The magic of the moment left even me speechless.