Apologies, this is a long post as there’s a lot to say and we have over 6 hours on a train with time to say it….

When we started planning our India itinerary we quickly realised that we would be there for HOLI – the famous Hindu festival of colours signifying the arrival of spring – and Debbie found that Udaipur (The City of Lakes) was rated as one of the top places to celebrate. In 2025 Holi was to be celebrated on 13th & 14th March, so we booked accommodation for 12th-16th to give us time to join in with the festivities and see some of the city too.

The bus from Jodhpur was fine, and cheap at about £6 each for a 5 hour journey, but by ‘bus’ we actually mean ‘air conditioned semi-sleeper tourist coach’ – Princess Deborah might have done 3rd class on an Indian train now but she’s not yet ready to try the number 12 to Udaipur, stopping every 50 metres and with no aircon!

Our home for 4 nights was Grandrosse Boutique Hotel, a new place and an aesthetic delight for Debbie, who loves a bit of white decor. First impressions were excellent, a beautiful reception, a smartly attired gentleman checking us in, fragrance wafting through the air and our ‘suite’ was just gorgeous – a feature wall decorated with peacock wallpaper, a huge bathroom with separate walk in shower the size of some London studio flats, and window seats in every room with magnificent views of the lake (even from the loo!). But there were some very stripy floors – striking some might say – reminiscent of the place we rented in Devon when we first relocated. We hadn’t won the lottery or blown the budget through – Debbie’s travel-agent skills had come up trumps again and she’d managed to get this for less than £60/night including breakfast.

First things to attend to were understanding the options for the Holi festivities, particularly how to attend the famous Holika Dahan ceremony at the City Palace the evening before Holi. This is an event unique to Udaipur, a special Royal Holi, and the reason we chose to be here for the festival. Of course you’d expect the smartly dressed guy on reception to be able to help but no, he didn’t have much clue but said that he would research it. He also told Debbie to look on Google Maps for a nail salon (there had been another toenail gel polish injury – she really shouldn’t wear sandals when traveling and moving luggage!). Not exactly concierge service. There was also no mention or sign of Holi in the hotel, which was odd as people checking in to other Udaipur places were greeted with garlands and colour being applied to cheeks and foreheads – then the penny dropped, Holi is a Hindu festival and the hotel staff were Muslim so wouldn’t have been celebrating, and the excesses of Holi during the fasting of Ramadan can’t be easy for them to witness.

Debbie established that the Holika Dahan was indeed a ticketed event, and ‘not to be missed’ but couldn’t find anything to suggest where tickets could be obtained. A bit dejected, she worried that we’d built our Rajasthan itinerary around Royal Holi in Udaipur and weren’t going to experience it – but there was nothing we could do that night, one to try to resolve in the morning.

We found a highly-rated BBQ restaurant called Charcoal on Tripadvisor, emailed ahead to secure a table, and set off to enjoy the sunset from their rooftop (obviously!) overlooking the beautiful Pichola Lake, drinking cocktails and stuffing ourselves with barbecued meaty loveliness – kebabs (with pineapple for herself), chicken, jacket spud, sweetcorn – there’s really only so much curry you can eat, even if everything we’ve had has been delicious, and this feast really hit the spot.

The lake, and the 2 island palaces on it, is why Udaipur is famous – and since it was used as a location in the James Bond movie Octopussy, tourism has exploded and it’s regarded as the most romantic city in India. It’s easy to see why – this place was totally different to anywhere we’d been so far in India and reminded us more of an Indian version of Lake Geneva.

Refreshed after a good night’s sleep, the mission was on. We asked reception whether they’d had any luck researching tickets – daft question – so set off to the City Palace. Success! The lady in the ticket office gave us the number of a man to call about tickets, and told us that they were Rs 5,500 each. We wondered whether there was some illicit black market dodgy dealing going on, but then noticed an official poster with the same phone number – so it did appear to be legit. Then Debbie twigged how much Rs 5,500 was! She’d perhaps expected it to be a free but ticketed event, not something that was going to cost us about £100 to attend. Steve said “sod that”, and a couple standing near us said that it wasn’t worth it and there would be local events outside the Palace anyway. Debbie was having a WhatsApp conversation with the ticket guy, and established that it was a 4 hour programme including refreshments, which she eventually confirmed included food, wine and beer – and Steve relented. This was why we’d chosen to be in Udaipur for Holi and we shouldn’t pass up a once-in-a lifetime opportunity for the sake of £50/each, which we’d spend without thinking on a pizza and a few drinks in the pub at home. It turned out that the ‘dodgy ticket guy’ was actually an official of the Maharana’s charitable foundation who were running the event, based inside the Palace, and sent his courier out to the ticket office lady with our beautiful ‘invitations’ – no 199 and 200 – in envelopes with printed programmes and commemorative tickets which were exchanged for Rs 11,000 in cash. Mission accomplished, we were off to the Palace that night.

The next important job was to purchase our Holi attire – cheap white tunic and trouser sets that we didn’t mind throwing away once they were inevitably ruined with colours the following day. While trying on, we asked the shopkeeper about cost and he said “don’t worry, later”, but as the couple we’d just met had paid Rs 600 each for theirs we knew the target price. Then a curveball – he suggested a skirt for Debbie, and showed her a quite nice one (perhaps a bit of a waste to get splattered with paint and thrown away) which she agreed was a good option. Then, and only then, was he ready to talk price – Rs 4,000 – cheeky sod! We told him about the others paying Rs 1,200 for 2 sets, he looked in disgust and huffed – you have to love the negotiation tactics – and said the price was because of the skirt. OK then, trousers it’ll be! The price was still too high, which he blamed on us needing ‘big sizes’ – charming – and we eventually settled on Rs 700 each (about £6.30) which he seemed disgusted with but knew that he’d got a good price. Then – what to wear for the palace? More shirt shopping for Steve – with more haggling that left another shopkeeper feigning disgust at the agreed price – and he now had two more options to meet Udaipur royalty, one with an owl pattern, the other with a paisley-type print, for the grand total price of Rs 1,000 (just over £9). We told our reception guy that we’d managed to get tickets for the Palace, but don’t think he was that interested!

That evening, dressed as smartly as our traveling attire allowed, we stopped briefly at the main square on the way to the City Palace. The pre-Holi celebrations were underway with a stage, VERY loud music, entertainment, dancing and confetti canons – it looked like a great night was in store and we briefly wondered whether we were missing something special in favour of our evening at the Palace. In the crowd we met the Aussie ladies from our Jaisalmer hotel, who were also going to the Palace, and funnily enough the couple who earlier said it ‘wasn’t worth it’ actually had bought a ticket and donned their finery. People are funny sometimes.

it was probably only 100m from the chaos of the square to the gates of the Palace, but as soon as were entered it was like another world. Beautifully lit, the Palace looked stunning, and the white covered chairs laid out around an unlit pyre in the main quadrangle (Manek Chauk) gave a real sense of occasion. We were led through arches into another small courtyard, presented with fresh flower corsages and a welcome drink, and then entered Zena Mahal – a stunning sight with the guests seated for dinner. We sat with the Aussies, waiters came with wine, we got some food from the extensive hot buffet (‘refreshments’ was underselling this), waiters refilled glasses, a band played, the Maharana was announced and joined his party for dinner after greeting a lot of people en-route to his table. We were spectacularly under-dressed, as were most foreigners, and there were some amazing examples of traditional finery in evidence. The wine waiters were very attentive, and when Debbie noticed a VERY positive change in the white being poured she asked to see the bottle – a beautiful Napa Valley Chardonay 🙂 As wine is ridiculously expensive and generally poor in India we’ve hardly drank any, so this was an amazing treat – really decent wine on free-flow. In hindsight, the ticket price was a bargain!! Then on to the point of the evening – the Holika Dahan. This is associated with the legend of Prahlad, a devotee of Lord Vishnu, who was saved from his evil Aunt Holika’s fire. She was immune to fire and carried him into the flames, but Vishnu turned the tables and she perished while he was unharmed. In the modern tradition, bonfires are lit to celebrate the triumph of good over evil and an effigy of Evil Auntie Holika is often thrown on the fire – rather like our Guy Fawkes Night.

There was much pomp and ceremony, the Maharana and his family arrived in a procession, there were marching guards with bagpipes, rituals were undertaken, the fire lit and energetic but graceful sword dancing took place around it. It was a spectacle we’ll not forget and finished after midnight. Walking back through the streets of the city, the smouldering remains of smaller fires were in abundance – it’s not just the Royals who observe Holika Dahan.

The following morning was Holi – signifying the arrival of Spring (temperature wise this is more like mid-summer!) – and we dressed in white, put our phones into protective water/colour-proof cases, picked up our bags of coloured powder and headed into the Old City streets. We didn’t stay pristine for more than about 100m, when the first person greeted us with “Happy Holi” and smeared colour on our cheeks. People were already fully coloured-up, there was merriment all around, everyone was happy, horns were honking, kids had water pistols and water bombs (they hurt a bit actually), and it was the most joyous public event we’ve ever experienced. Soon our faces, hair and white outfits were a kaleidoscope of colours. We attempted the main square for the party but it was mosh-pit-like carnage, so we escaped to the relative safety of the side streets and bridges where impromptu parties were springing up and the joy, laughter, music and colour continued. No-one was safe from being smeared with the powder (not even the lady trying to protect her hair by wearing a shower cap), and even young kids joined in, but the bullock near the lakeside ghat didn’t appear to impressed at being turned bright purple.

After an awesome few hours of total immersion in Udaipur’s Holi celebrations, we decided to get some beer and retire to our hotel for the rest of the day. The wine shop was mobbed and some enterprising gentlemen offered to brave the steps and get beer for us – for a cheeky 30% mark-up. No worries thanks mate, Steve managed and triumphantly secured 4 big bottles of Kingfisher Strong. On looking in the mirror we saw that Steve had fared better than Debbie – his colours were more vibrant and a tad artistic, Debbie’s more of a random brown mess that had dripped when she’d been hit with water. Long showers, several hair washes and even a nail polish remover pad removed much of the dye, although Steve’s blue highlights are likely to last for a while yet. The clothes went straight into the bin as expected, and so did our underwear as that was unrecoverable too. Our first Holi survived and enjoyed and it was fab!

Luckily our hotel restaurant was open that evening so we didn’t have to brave the streets again – we didn’t have another set of disposable clothing – but the festivities had died down by late afternoon anyway as presumably folk go home for family dinner & celebrations. ‘Open’ turned out to be down to interpretation – instead of giving us the menu it’d have been better to say ‘limited menu, shops shut for Holi, this is what we have available’. Debbie chose Fettucine Alfredo and Steve Penne Arrabiata, both with chicken. The waiter clarified that one was white sauce and the other red – thanks for that – but couldn’t understand that we wanted different pasta types despite the menu offering the choice. So we settled for whatever pasta shape was available. He returned to say that Steve’s ‘red sauce’ was not available, nor was his 2nd choice of lasagne, we’ll both have the same then please. And back he came – no chicken. So Lal Maas and Dal Tadka to share – lovely even if not what we wanted. As beautiful as the hotel was, we concluded that it was very much like Fawlty Towers!

Our final day was sightseeing – probably not the best idea on a festival long-weekend day as Udaipur was absolutely rammed with tourists. A boat trip around the lake, stopping for an extortionately-priced small beer at the the Jag Mandir Palace island, and a tour of the City Palace where we’d been a couple of evenings before. We actually thought the Palace was most spectacular at night and was just too busy, with the tour via a lot of narrow passages and winding staircases, to really be able to see the beauty or enjoy it. Still curried-out, we returned to Charcoal for a delicious Mexican taco dinner and final views over the lake with the island palaces beautifully lit and towards rooftop restaurants with lively Saturday night reveling. Not for us – we had an early start in the morning, and anyway, we are too old!

Verdict on Udaipur – we loved it and the Holi experience was brilliant. For Debbie it’s her favourite place in Rajasthan (perhaps even in India) so far, for Steve it’s a close one between Jaisalmer and Udaipur.

Next stop – Jaipur……….