The year 2020, may well go down in history as the year in which travel around the world, came to a halt. But for travellers and shutterbugs, perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. To explain this, let me take you on a trip down memory lane.

Monsoon Diaries

For the past few years, we’ve planned short vacations in mid-August — partly because we can combine a national holiday with a weekend, and partly, because it is the only time during the year, when we don’t have festival-related travel plans.

Mid-August in India, is also the middle of the monsoons. Extremely notorious for flooding the plains near rivers, and causing landslips in mountainous regions, monsoons leave a select number of safe places to travel to. And even if you have identified a location, unpredictable weather conditions are almost surely going to ruin a a meticulously planned itinerary.

In Gwalior, for instance, we had to skip visiting a few places, because we got stuck indoors, while it poured outside.

Jai Vilas Palace
Jai Vilas Palace, the home of the Scindia family, from inside the museum. A Palace isn’t a bad place to be marooned in!

In Udaipur, on the other hand, rain seemed to appear from nowhere, and stopped equally abruptly. At one time, we, quite literally, had to head for the hill, to escape the rain.

Ominous clouds hang above the city, Udaipur
Petrichor filled the air, as we dined at one of the many roof-top cafes in Old Udaipur, right next to the City Palace. Shortly after our meal, we found ourselves jogging up the hillock, on top of which, was the City Palace (not in picture). We made it just in the nick of time.

For three straight years, we found ourselves reworking our plans due to the rain. But we didn’t mind. Because it meant that the weather wouldn’t be as hot; the grass and trees would be vibrant; the monuments fresh and clean; and the cloudy skies, dramatic.

For our fourth monsoon trip, we factored rain into our planning, and were looking forward to the prospect of getting stuck somewhere!

Little did we know, the weather Gods had planned something else, entirely.


“There’s nothing up there,” said the auto-driver, who dropped us at the bottom of the hill. “It’s most likely going to rain. And you can’t take shelter anywhere.”

We looked at each other, and replied, “We’ll take our chances. And if it rains, we’re quite happy getting drenched!”

We got off, and stared at a narrow, stone path, leading towards Nahargarh Fort. The trek was steep. But freshly-washed greenery on the trail, the clouds above, and the cool air in between, made the journey breathtaking. While it didn’t rain, the trek set the stage for the main reason for our trip — Abhaneri.

The steep, winding path towards Nahargarh Fort, Jaipur

Abhaneri is a small town about an hour and half away from Jaipur, famous for one of the most photogenic step-wells in India, the Chand Baori. If the weather was to be as unpredictable as it had been so far, odds were, that we’d find ourselves in the rain, yet again.

But that was not to be — the sun was out in all its glory. And the sun beat down upon us on that hot, humid, August day, something inside us, snapped.


Legend has it, that Chand Baori’s grandeur is at peak under a full moon, with the well reflecting the moonlight. However, nowadays, the well is closed on sundown, and the steps barricaded for safety purposes.

But such restrictions and distance cannot diminish the likes of Chand Baori. Drenched in the golden hues of the sun, scantily clad, revealing 11 of her 13 layers, she was perfect. The best part, was that there were few tourists. We were in Instagram heaven. Yes, we took our pictures. They were beautiful. But standing there, something didn’t feel right.

That day, in Abhaneri, Chand Baori revealed to us, that we were no longer travellers.

Chand baori’s beauty is in the scale, simplicity and symmetry of its numerous steps: 13 levels, 5 feet each (11 are visible, two levels are submerged)

The perfect trip

Ahead of our trip to Jaipur, we’d done our research: a comprehensive Google search, Instagram hashtags, travel blogs, spoken to a few people who live there, and dipped into our own past experience of visiting the city. A trek up Nahargarh Fort, followed by a visit to Amer on one day. Abhaneri, followed by road-side halts to view the illumination of various monuments, on the second day. And a visit to the Patrika Gate and markets on the third day.

Pre-wedding video shoot in progress at Patrika Gate
A pre-wedding video shoot in progress, complete with the mandatory twirl, at Patrika Gate, Jaipur.

We’d spent close to four, full days in Jaipur, in which, we kept the City Palace and Hawa Mahal out of our itinerary. It should have been the perfect, relaxing trip. And a look at our phones and cameras would reveal several Instagram-worthy pictures.

But we returned home disappointed, and exhausted.

What went wrong

Let’s go back in time — just a few decades; before globalisation, before inexpensive transportation, and most importantly, before the smartphone. At that time, travel was about exploring new places. To see, first-hand, what we had heard about. To take family pictures at exotic places for our album. To experience something different.

Now, though, we see most places before even visiting. Our itineraries are packed with one spot after the next, our minds pre-set on the exact photo-angle we want, in order to post on Instagram.

Most tourist destinations are perpetually crowded with groups of people following a tour guide along a standardised sight-seeing package. Local residents, along with their unique stories, are hard to come by. Shop-keepers around popular places sell standardised tourist-y items like Darjeeling Tea, Taj Mahal replicas, or ‘Tribal’ Art — it doesn’t matter if it isn’t local, let alone authentic.

Local cuisine, too, is elusive, as restaurants cater to imported palettes of tourists, rather than locals — usually one, or more of the following: American-style fast food, Indian-Chinese noodles, South Indian idli-vada-dosa, North Indian daal-roti-sabzi and some variation of paneer (cottage cheese), fried rice, salad and curd.

Every souvenir is already available online. Every picture is already in our minds. Nothing surprises us anymore.

It is in this reality, that rains bring in the unpredictability, thrill, and a sense of adventure. They force us to take a break, and just be still for a while. Isn’t that what vacations are all about?

Looking back, I can’t help but wonder, how tiring it would have been, if we hadn’t taken that long nap, waiting for the rain to stop, the day we landed in Udaipur. That afternoon, we had all, but given up hope of going anywhere. And then, just as we woke up from our slumber, early evening, the sky had cleared, and we visited the Monsoon Palace.

Dramatic lighting and freshly-washed monuments are a sure-shot during Monsoons! This here, is the aptly titled, Monsoon Palace, Udaipur

Or our very unstructured stay at Khajuraho, for which, we hardly had any itinerary at all. We simply walked around town, deciding on the spur of the moment, where to head.

Gwalior, Udaipur and Khajuraho are all small towns, making them easy to explore on foot, and so, getting stuck in the rain wasn’t stressful. We strolled around leisurely, sometimes even circling back to the same places. By the end of our stays, we felt more local, with some shop keepers recognising, and greeting us. We were even able to provide directions to other tourists!

Jaipur, on the other hand, was a traffic nightmare, leaving little room to explore.


So here we are, in 2020. Quarantined due to a pandemic. Travel, as we knew it for the last few years, and to a large extent, took for granted, has come to a grinding halt.

I can’t help but think that this is some grand cosmic conspiracy, to put us in our place — literally. To slow us down. To see what a mess we’ve made of our planet. Unlike what most people would have us believe. Life is quite long. We don’t need to constantly be running around. Let’s just stay put in one place, and take a look at the 16000-plus photographs on our devices. (Yes, that’s the number of pictures waiting for me to sort through, on Flickr.)

Yes, there are hundreds of thousands of people who depend on tourists, for their livelihood. But, for now, we’re all marooned. And just like every other time, the spell of rain will eventually stop. And when that does happen, the real question we all have to ask ourselves is, are we going to treat our planet, local cultures, and our vacations, with more respect.

Waiting for the rain to stop, inside the Javeri Temple, Khajuraho.

Photographs in this post from the Flickr Album: Marooned Traveller. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sort out more pictures and add to the album in the near future.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Protected with IP Blacklist CloudIP Blacklist Cloud