Pabbu ki Dhani: Adventures in the desert.

By Rakhee Ghelani.

This was my home for 24 hours when I visited this small, isolated village in the Thar desert. To call it a village is probably too big a word, it is a simple home which has 4 small huts for visitors, this is Pabu ki Dhani.  Pabu welcomed us into his home so we could experience a little piece of the Rajasthani desert. Unlike other desert treks near Jaisalmer (I went on another with my father over 10 years ago), there are no other tourists in sight, this is a true rural experience.  There is no running water, no electricity and no glamourous permanent tents. This is real life.

Pabu (along with his wife Capucine who was not there on our visit) aim to support the local villages and expose their visitors to the crafts that are practised every day.  There is no big sales push, just the chance to see people doing what they do every day.

We visited one village where we watched this man create candlestick holders, bowls and cups from a lump of clay.

The village that he lived in looked isolated.

Of course in each village there are children who followed us begging to have their photo taken and then squealing with delight when they could see there visage back on the digital screen.


These young girls were not at school even though it was a weekday, the privilege of education that is something afforded only for the boys in this village. Sadly when we asked their age none of them could tell us because they didn’t know. This was just an afternoon for us, but for them this isolated village is their life. My heart sank as I saw the squalid conditions in which they lived. Rajasthan is one of the least educated states in India and also one where poverty is more marked.

I have written before (here and here) about how helpless I feel when seeing poverty here, I now don’t even think I can verbalise how I felt after meeting these young girls.


As we drove from village to village, the long empty roads of the desert stretched before us.

The landscape is eerie but spectacular.  It seems incomprehensible to me that people have survived in this inhospitable environment for hundreds of years.  It is certainly easier nowadays with jeeps and mobile phones, but even in this modern age one cannot escape the harshness of the desert.

Of course as a guest in someone’s home I was spared the harsh reality of desert life.  Instead I was treated to fabulous home cooked food and had comfortable shelter.

Being a tourist I couldn’t resist the obligatory camel ride in the desert. I recall the last time I was in Jaisalmer I took a camel ride with my father, at the end of which he declared that it was unlikely he would travel with me again (camels didn’t agree with him  ).  Despite this memory I decided to give this odd looking beast one more chance.


Thankfully she was kind to me.

She took me through the sand dunes that seemed to stretch on for hours.

As evening approached we settled on the verandah and listened to some local men sing folk songs around the fire.  Looking up at the stars, I closed my eyes and just listened to the serenity.  This really must be the most peaceful place in India.

The author blogs at aussiegirlinIndia.com and tweets @aussiegirlindia.


For more stories off the beaten path in India, visit www.indiauntravelled.com or join India Untravelled on Facebook.

Spiti: Ladakh's lesser known cousin.

By Shivya.

As I walk along the green fields of Pin, I smile in delight at the pink, purple and yellow flowers in bloom; I haven’t seen greenery for the last 3 days in the mountain desert terrain of Spiti. I carefully walk the fragile bridge across the Spiti River, to the village of Gulling, where I hope to hitch-hike my way back to Kaza, Spiti’s capital, instead of waiting for a bus the next morning.

 I have never hitch-hiked in India before; it would be a parent’s worst nightmare for their 23-year-old daughter in the northern cities of India. But 2 weeks in Spiti have convinced me that there isn’t a safer alternative to travel the region. The mountain people welcome you with big hearts, space or no space, and it’s a great way to meet fellow mountain travelers.

As I reach Gulling, I’m greeted by a gorgeous view of green slopes topped by snow-capped peaks, some of which have melted into swift waterfalls. The aroma of freshly cooked breakfast draws me in to a little dhaba. I chat with the cook as he beats some eggs, and ask him if any cars will be heading to Kaza soon. Immediately, he calls out to an elderly gentleman, who in turn, summons some boys to find me a ride; by the time my breakfast is done, the entire village is scrambling around to find a way to get me to Kaza.

 The cook invites me to take refuge in the shade of his dhaba for the few or many hours before a car passes by their humble village, but I insist on taking my restless self to walk the single road of the village under the trees. As I stroll along, every passer-by has a smile to give and help to offer. A young man tries to initiate a conversation in English. I oblige, and gradually break into Hindi, to which he seems surprised. Immediately, he insists that I join him for tea, and as I run out of excuses, I follow him into a shed by the roadside. He calls a boy and tells him to make us his best tea, and as the boy heads out, I look at the tattered, isolated surroundings of the shed. Over the next hour, I hear everything about this man and his family, his entrepreneurial spirit, and his move to Pin from Manali. It’s only in Spiti, I think to myself, that my eyes didn’t subconsciously dart around for escape routes.

I find a ride just after noon, and as we drive through the precarious mountain roads, with the majestic Himalayas watching over us, I feel glad, yet again, that Spiti has salvaged the notion of atithi devo bhava for me; all the world has heard of Indian hospitality, but living in the cities made it seem like a hoax.

 Traveling to & in the Spiti Valley:

I am charmed by the landscape in some of the highest villages in the Himalayas; the sky seems to get bluer as I go higher, and surprisingly, the mountain slopes get greener. Typically, these mountain villages have a population of merely 50-100 people in a dozen or less households, and are 5-10 hour hikes away from Kaza, Spiti’s administrative headquarters and a good base to explore the region. Perhaps it is this unique geography that hasn’t allowed the peculiarities of urban India to seep into its hospitable culture.

Recommended: The villages of Langhza, Komic and Kungri.

 I am convinced that life couldn’t be easy in these villages during the winter months, when temperatures dip below -30 degree Celsius on average, practically cutting off the valley from the rest of India. The locals must hoard food and wood during the summer to be able to survive the extreme conditions. Despite their hardships, the spirit of the locals is heartening. They derive much of their conviction from the teachings of Tibetan Buddhism, some of the oldest monasteries of which are perched precariously on hills in the valley and associated with fascinating folklore & legends.

Recommended: The monasteries of Key, Dhankar and Tabo.

 Spiti’s location on the leeward side of the Himalayas has deprived it of much rainfall, but the Spiti River and the Dhankar Lake can charm any traveler.

Summer (May-October) is the best time to visit Spiti, either via the 20-hour paved road from Shimla or the 10-hour dirt road from Manali. While the journey is not for the faint-hearted, it is certainly one of the most spectacular routes I’ve ever traveled.

It is upon every independent traveler to protect and conserve Spiti’s fragile ecology. 

Travel can also be organized via India Untravelled; our partners in Spiti ensure that all trips into the trans-Himalayas are carbon neutral. Volunteering options are also available.

Hampi: Watching India's history come to life.

By Farah Z.

Hampi in the state of Karnataka is accessible by a well-connected town by the name of Hospet. The transportations between Hospet and Hampi are cycle-rickshaws, pony-tongas and city buses. The daily life of people living along the main road to Hampi ignites the excitement to visit the most celebrated of the medieval Hindu metropolises in the history of India.

Virupakshapura is the most sacred, ancient and best preserved of the Saiva townships of the Vijayanagar period. What appears in the picture is the Main Gopura that is the main gateway to Virupaksha rises to the height of 52 mts. To enter, you have to take off your shoes and pay some amount of money for somebody to watch over your shoes and if you are lucky enough, you will bump into an elephant, who will give you some blessing.

Overlooking the Virupaksha is Hemakuta hill, a baffling site of the great many monuments. Not two, not three but 17 temples, 12 shrines, 3 mantapas, 2 galleries and one pillar. One striking monument is a pillared fort of Hemakuta which resembles a Roman monument.

A stroll down along the river bank of Tungabhadra is an endearing experience for this is where Hampi comes to life, albeit the dead and deserted kingdom. Hampi is famous of its big rocks or boulders. It is a scene like no other, as piles of boulder scattered along the river bank add a dynamic combination to the calm river water.

Indians, river and laundry – how could you separate one from the other? Along the river, most visitors to Hampi take a bath and wash their clothes in the river. The picture captures an old man holding one end of his cloth while the other end was tied to a stick; no clothes pegs needed here in Hampi.

When I was told there is Noblemen’s Quarters in Hampi, I couldn’t help but wonder how civilized the empire was back then. Noblemen consisted of members of the royal family, high officials and generals. At noblemen’s Quarters, there are no less than 6 ruined palaces surrounded by public hall, gymnasium, schools and kitchen.

Lotus Mahal is one of the celebrated monuments in Hampi – used to be a place of power, pagentary and pleasure, all at one. Note the elements of flora and fauna decorating its arches, a typical example of Hindu and Islamic blend in architecture.

At first glance, I mistakenly thought it was a mosque because of the domes and other Islamic similarity in architecture. Apparently, it was an elephant stable which accommodated 10 royal elephants.

Hydraulic skills and elaborated network of water-work are other impressive skills of the Vijayanagara empire. At the Darbar Enclosure, you will find plaster-lined channels, stone tanks, monolithic stone trough and stone aqueducts.

My favorite monument in Hampi can be found in Vithala Temple in the form of a stone car. It was set on moving wheels indicating the elements of stability and movement, both at once.

According to the Persian visitor, the city of Vijayanagar is “such that the eye has not seen, nor ear heard of any place resembling it upon the whole earth”. As the first place visited on my India trip, it rings true as I have neither seen an empire like this nor architecture so beautifully created. There are many other monuments on site, and each has its own stories. In fact, it was difficult for me to select only 10 pictures for this post. Hampi is one of the best places I've visited on the whole wide world. And you too should go and see it with your own eyes. 

Farah Z, the author of Thatsofarah is an avid traveller whose dream is to travel the world with no reservation. At present, she juggles demanding work as a lawyer in Kuala Lumpur and her passion to travel. She travels on average once a month to a new destination. Follow her on Twitter @thatsofarah.

If you would like to contribute a guest post or photo essay of your travels in India on the India Untravelled blog, please email us with your ideas at shivya@indiauntravelled.com.

Pranpur: the craftsmen of Madhya Pradesh weave magic.

As we drive into the heart of India, dubbed Madhya Pradesh, I awake my sleepy self to the sight of the Betwa River, a beautiful expanse of clear water vigorously flowing through a dam. I am suddenly kicked about venturing into an India that is far off the tourist circuit; Spiti & Hegdenagar feel like a long time ago.

Men sort layers of Chanderi Silk in open air in the fields of Pranpur.

My notion that this landlocked state will be devoid of much greenery is dispelled ten minutes past the Uttar Pradesh border. We cross large plots of land growing their own wilderness, andPranpur, a little village just south of Jhansi, throws us a cozy green welcome. I immediately delight in the absence of crowds, and the pace of passers-by. Unlike other rural parts of India I’ve been to, however, the locals do not seem inquisitive about seeing us walk their streets. That is not to say that they are not welcoming; each time we try to peep inside a village hut, we get invited in and offered tea & food.

As we stroll through the two-ish kilometer squares of Pranpur, my friend from the village points to me the three communities that inhabit it. Baboo-da, a 60-something frail man represents the potters; their women make mud utensils (which they use for cooking) and small figurines of gods & goddesses, while the men make bigger festive murals. When I ask him why men don’t make utensils, he smiles broadly to reveal his three teeth, and shyly says it’s the women’s forte.

Potter Bhaiya Lal displays the mud mural he has made for the upcoming Dusherra celebrations.

Baboo-da's wife displays her mud utensil and Ganesha figurine. She proudly claims that the food made on mud utensils tastes much better!

We walk past a traditional step well, locally called a baoli, where kids splash about in the water. The lack of excitement to see foreign faces is affirmed by the children, who don’t watch us curiously or wave to us. Their indifference makes me wonder whether they’ve ever met people from outside of their little village, because it couldn’t possibly be the other end of the spectrum; I see no non-local faces during my weekend visit.

A traditional step well (baoli), made such that people can step down to the surface of the water to fill their buckets.

A little deeper into the village, I constantly hear clicketty-clack sounds. I can sneak a peak into each household we cross, through its open doors, and soon realize that the sounds belong to the looms of the weavers. I meet men and women, young and old, weaving Chanderi Silk saris in different styles, colors and designs. Randhir Kohli, revered as a master of weaving, invites me to try my hand at the loom. His experienced hands make the intricate work seem so easy that my clumsiness surprises me!

Perhaps if Pranpur was in another country, it would’ve been a hotspot for the talent it homes within its narrow borders. But India is peculiar that way; people (women) all over the country are heavy buyers of Chanderi Silk saris, an expensive variety of the traditional Indian costume, but few know that it is weaved & loomed in the forgotten village of Pranpur, where weavers are barely compensated for the days that go into the making of a single sari. I was guilty of that ignorance until a month ago.

Weaving in progress.

The last of the village communities has reduced to two households; that of metal craftsmen. The head of the household greets us with a warm smile, but the sadness in his eyes reflects the state of his business. I look closely at his finished ornaments and instantly draw a parallel to some antiques I’ve seen in a museum in the nearby town of Chanderi. I wonder if his work will be admired only long after our generation is gone…

Wax, mud & metal moulded to form this metal ornament.

Pranpur gives me my first insight into an India that rejoices in its crafts. Hopefully some day, when the middlemen are all gone, I’ll be able to use the word “thrive” instead.

If you'd like to take a trip to Pranpur, all details are here on our website, and you can reach me at +91 8527 141 626 or shivya@indiauntravelled.com to book your stay & plan your trip. Go soon :)


This post was originally published on The Shooting Star.

Long weekend travel ideas for the Easter break!

Live on a farm, learn a craft, take a do-nothing break - we explore the states of Himachal Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan & Punjab for quirky travel ideas on the coming long weekend in April. 

1. Learn pottery, ride a bullock cart & draw water from a stepped well  in the village of Pranpur in Madhya Pradesh.

2. Live in a hillside homestay & watch the clouds play hide & seek with the mighty Himalayas in the small valley of Shoghi near Shimla.

3. Eat food cooked on a chulha (or try cooking it yourself), use a bathroom with a view, play hop-scotch, stroll in the fields of jo (beer is made from this crop), watch sunrise from the fields, and watch birds lying on a charpy at Nirvana Organic Farm near Jaipur.

4. Read with a view and experience royalty in an 83-year-old British bungalow, in the small village cluster of Raison near Manali.

5. Take a dip in a tube-well, trek up to & inside a forest cave, and live in farm cottage at Prakriti Farms near Chandigarh in Punjab.

What are your plans for upcoming long weekend? What quirky travel ideas would you add here?

Manali: 5 must-have Himalayan experiences.

So you've decided to beat the summer heat and journey up into the mighty Himalayas? Perfect. Here are 5 ways to escape the hill-station crowds of Kullu / Manali and craft your own mountains adventures:

1. Trek to Malana.

Photo by Morisius Cosmonaut.

Haven't we always wanted the forbidden fruit? The residents of Malana are a unique lot; they believe they are remnants of Alexander the Great's army. They consider themselves to be the purest race, and visitors to the village are fined if they touch their walls, houses, or people. Their bigger claim to fame, of course, is the pure variety of things they grow ;) 

A trek to the village takes 1-2 hours from the base of the hill, and takes you through the scenic landscapes of the Himachali countryside.

2. Rent a bullet.

Photo by Vir Nakai, via Flickr.

Few things match the thrill of riding a bike through the precarious mountain roads of the Himalayas, discovering the fairytale countryside of Himachal and letting the cold mountain air stroke your face. At INR 700-800 a day, you can rent yourself a royal enfield and build your own trails in Himachal.

3. Watch sunset at Naggar.

The charm of a mountain sunset is hard to describe, especially up in the Himalayas. In the ancient hamlet of Naggar, on the banks of the Beas, the sun bids the day goodbye with brilliant pink, red & yellow colours that are sure to mesmerize any onlooker. Throw in a snow-capped mountain peak and a dozen pine trees, and you've got yourself the most perfectly romantic sunset.

4. Stay in a countryside heritage bungalow.

A quaint reminder of the British era, the Ramgarh heritage bungalow is set amid apple orchards & kiwi plantations on the countryside of Raison, a hillside village cluster half hour from Manali. At INR 2,500 a night, you can experience life in this bungalow with its original English architecture, high ceilings, mud walls & fireplaces. It overlooks the Beas below & the Dhauladhar Range above. 

5. Raft in the River Beas.

Photo by B Balaji, via Flickr.

For only INR 500 per person, you can set out on a raft and manoeuvre the chilly waters of the River Beas. The rapids are not huge, but the thrill is, at least for first-timers. You can get your own raft with a guide if you aren't a fan of bigger groups. The starting point is at the base of the village cluster of Raison, a half hour drive from Manali on the Kullu-Manali national highway.

What are your favorite mountain experiences around Manali in Himachal? 


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