Suryagarh

A hundred-year-old lady from a nomadic desert tribe might appear while you explore the dunes. Camels are sometimes fed monitor lizards for increased vitality. Carry glamorous, flowing outfits. Nakul knows the most clandestine spots in the desert but he ought to be driving. Siddharth is an expert on the theory of relativity.

If the myth of Indian regal life is alive, Suryagarh is the veritable headquarters. Allow yourself the leisure to be transported for this palace does not adhere, except to taking you on flights of fancy and unimaginable vastness, of space and taste. The moment one is greeted at the airport begins pointing toward the incredible distinction ahead. Camels, canons and Manganiyar folk performers welcome with an entrancing dance into the richly detailed hotel constructed with fable-like craftsmanship and a style of architecture where blocks of Jaisalmer sandstone are interlocked for posterity.

Beyond the palatial reception awaits a most elegant courtyard, one of many, where peacocks and fan-tailed pigeons eagerly offer their company for cocktails re-imagined by some of the world’s finest connoisseurs. In rooms and suites, the balance of every contemporary luxury and perfectly maintained temperatures with astounding views of the desert and palace arches simply stays. With a fleet of sacredly attentive staff waiting on guests in tangerine dunes, by green oases and silver lakes or in speciality restaurants replete with antiques and velvet, this experience is truly inimitable and fiction perfect. The heart then gently unfolds to royally exotic flavours alive in effortlessly gourmet world cuisine made by intuitive chefs whose ten-course tapas is as exquisite as their traditional Rajasthani recipes to captivate all discerning palates.

Rait, the in-house spa offers one of the world’s choicest healing afternoons with French elixirs and home honed spices that extends seamlessly into radiant sunsets as one emerges a queen or king reborn.  Only to be charmed into conversations that travel from verses to relativity and legends of kings, queens and lost tribes before they are squandered to the dunes.  Satchels of perception, of time and plans, must necessarily be left at the gates. There comes a moment under the starlit desert when cameras retire, the mind disengages and folk songs of passion and longing, older than the sand, build a crescendo where you begin to revisit primal places and become part of the immortal legend of Jaisalmer and the mystical time craft that is Suryagarh.