Exploring Udaipur Slowly, and the Best Places to Visit in Udaipur, Rajasthan
Table of Contents
- Exploring Udaipur Slowly, and the Best Places to Visit in Udaipur, Rajasthan
- Some Things To Do in Udaipur Rajasthan That I Could Actually Do
- Some Must Visit Places in Udaipur City I Couldn’t See
- Where to Stay in Udaipur
Okay, so let’s set it straight. Some of the below things happened in Udaipur.
A man stalked me; it doesn’t happen in all Indian cities, though I wouldn’t say this kind of thing never happens. A friendly banter is often interpreted as a desire for something more. In Udaipur, I had bought a blue and yellow georgette sari that had been hanging outside a shop. Its colorful flutter had caught my eye as I returned from an exploration of one of the best places to see in Udaipur (Rajasthan). I spoke with the shopkeeper casually, and when I left the shop, he was following me on his bike, having shut his store, calling out to me as if I was waiting for him to take me to a fort and show me a molten yellow sunset.
I also climbed, no scrambled up, a very muddy hill. It was the Karni Mata Temple hill, or the Machla Hills, on which the temple is located. Though a ropeway climbs to the temple from Udaipur city, at that time, it was closed. I took a staircase to the temple. But, I think, after following the stairs for a while, I had taken a shortcut, a mud path, as is expected of me. As it hadn’t rained in Udaipur for months, the path was dry, my feet slipping.
I had arrived at Karni Mata temple’s back gate, which was closed. So I had to maneuver around. In ten minutes or so, a well-dressed straight-postured young man, who introduced himself as a royal family staff (maybe someone important, perhaps a young son’s friend) said he had come to get me. The guard who had refused to unlock the back gate for me had apparently called him. He, the son, not the guard, was courteous and concerned. “Ma’am how did you reach here?” He watched me curiously.
I felt slightly odd to be called ma’am by him, a guy who supposedly had come from the fort or the palace and who said all the royal family members were scheduled to do a puja in the temple later that day. I don’t remember all of it, but he was saying that it wasn’t safe for me to be up there alone in the evening.
Beneath us, the Pichola Lake had been turned into a golden sheet by the last sun rays. The Aravalli hills flanking the district on the Southern side were becoming silhouettes. Soon, the man and I were going down. He walked ahead of me, turning around occasionally, watching me follow him unsteadily. Did he mean safe in terms of the scrambling up, snakes, and all? I don’t think so. I think he meant safe in terms of men. That someone might find me alone and that might not be good for me.
I know that alone on top of a hill in Rajasthan at sunset one can be unsafe. But I didn’t imagine that being by myself at one of the most popular tourist places to visit in Udaipur could be risky too. A hill that so many visitors climb up? Albeit, I guess, before sunset and, maybe, from a different direction. The watch tower kind of thing I had just gone into and peed had broken alcohol bottles, tissues, and chips packets: proof that it was frequented by people. I understood his concern. Men drinking in the watchtower, and me out alone on that hill.
So Udaipur was kind of fun. Seeing this young boy, of somewhat importance, concerned for me. A sari wallah stalking me. Police men on the street trying to direct me the right way. It was the second wave time, tourists were minimal, and I stood out on the road.
I won’t explain why I was in Udaipur at covid time. Okay, one last time. My partner, Sagar, and I had just began our indefinite trip through India in our car with all our stuff in it. Why did we choose that fortunate time? In December 2020, we had thought COVID had dissipated. So we had made our plans, booked a car, and had given up our small terrace apartment in Bangalore. Our trip officially started on January 31’2021. By the end of February, covid had returned, on a second wave.
So we were riding the second wave too, by driving from the South to the North. The Himalayas were where we wanted to be, and I had to visit my parents too, whom I hadn’t seen in more than one and a half years. Much had happened in those years. Much of this narrative can be found in my telling of the beginning of our trip (As of January 2026: now we have been traveling for five years, as digital nomads, without any house keys, for real).
From Bangalore to Mumbai to Udaipur. We would be in the city for a few days, as many as needed to be, hopefully seeing some of the places of Udaipur, and drive further up from there. We were working too, and my partner couldn’t take all the weekdays off to drive.
We arrived in Udaipur in the afternoon, having called the hotel from the road and having received a booking confirmation. Most hotels were shut, and the rest were functioning on limited occupancy. Outstation cars weren’t being stopped from entering the city. It was a weekday. On the weekend, there would be a full lockdown, though, and you’d better not be seen driving. We parked our car in the parking lot a bit away from the hotel, which we were told was in a narrow lane, right on the bank of the manmade Pichola Lake, and then we walked to the heritage building.
Udaipur, and Rajasthan in general, have many hotels which were traditional homes, or havelis: big houses for influential or large families. Those havelis have been converted into heritage hotels, with their multicolored glass panes, heavy fort-like wooden doors, arched windows, and thick pillars standing as a testament to time. So many haveli hotels would have pools, bars, and airport drop and pickup: they are fully equipped for the high-end domestic and foreign traveler, who come in millions to explore Udaipur. (Even in Pushkar in Rajasthan I saw beautiful artistic big houses.)
For now, our three-floor hotel, The Panorama Haveli, was dusty, abandoned, and quiet. Fountains had been switched off, and most lights were temporarily turned off, too. Only one other room was occupied by an old foreigner who had been there for a few weeks, perhaps passing the whole wave in Udaipur. We never saw him during our one-week stay.
We climbed up the rooftop that evening to see the sunset. Neck to neck pale-yellow houses and a few taller buildings, apart from the exception of a thick blob of green, ran up to the Aravalli mountains at the horizon. There, on the first hill, sat the Kumbhalgarh fort with its expansive walls, overlooking the city, as a good fort should. The sun was just a glowing yellow dot, about to drop behind the mountains. We had our first dinner on the rooftop. The hotel’s kitchen was not working, so we had either parceled food on the way or had placed an order online. The most I remember was the quiet, with no other tourists about to come up and no staff to have to take care of anything.
From our room’s arched window, we could see the Pichola Lake shimmering in the last rays. For the whole week, we would see that lake the first thing in the morning, and we were never bored with the view. For as far as we were concerned, the whole city seemed to be running around that beautiful lake. It was constructed by the Mewar King Maharana Udai Singh II in the 14th century. He got the rivers dammed to provide this drinking water source to his people (though this story is contested, and another legend says that the lake was made by a gypsy. Impressed by the lake, the Maharana had founded the city of Udaipur on it). Later, so many palaces, like the City Palace and the Jagmandir (you will read about them further on), and other important buildings, now famous places in Udaipur, were all established around the lake. There are several islands with several palaces on the lake too.
Pichola is no small lake. At four km long and three km wide, it was the focal point of Udaipur, unless you wanted to visit some other places to explore in Udaipur a bit further away. But it was an unsual time, and most places were shut.
We tried not going out for no good reason. Several cafes, restaurants, and local food joints were open, without the usual noise and light, as if not to catch attention. Some of them would call us from behind, yelling that we could order whatever we liked, that they were open. Several lakeside eateries were fully functional. No concerns of being caught, and no rules except that masks had to be put on.
Mostly, we were the only diners. In the Jheel Cafe right at the lake, other tables were occupied too, their occupants standing here and there, leaning against the wall, taking pictures of the sunset or the Pichola Lake. I didn’t know that Jheel Cafe was a popular vantage point to photograph the city, especially the Pichola Lake. I mean, I could tell by being there, the picturesque surroundings overwhelming me, but I guessed that many people had especially come to that cafe to take pictures, probably after reading about it online.
The food was average, the photos mattered more. (Try the lemonade (lemonana) at The Little Prince restaurant at the Pichola lake. You don’t have to go for it especially, but if you are around and need something to drink, then stop by.)
As we didn’t even have tea at our hotel, we would go out first thing in the morning. Not that we couldn’t have managed without breakfast or tea. Sometimes I feel Sagar and I have breakfast to pretend to have a normal life, and not that of two itinerants who weren’t probably there the previous night. How would we start our day if we don’t even drink tea? Now we mostly skip breakfast. Then we were breakfast eaters. Only a few days earlier, I had found out, on a highway restaurant’s weighing machine, that I was seventy kilos, the most I had (have) ever weighed. Within a few days, I had started following the one-meal intermittent fasting diet, of which I sing praises in the article on living a healthy life. I also started exercising in our lakeside room. Those healthy habits have accompanied me until now, or I can say, that they have carried me this far.
But back then, we went out to find breakfast, to not have to work right away, to not have to see the must see things in Udaipur right away (not that we could see most of them due to the lockdown), to not have to do something else. Breakfast gave a sense of direction to the day.
Though the bigger restaurants were open, smaller, home-run or roadside breakfast stalls were all gone. I am sure that at a normal time the lanes around us would have been dotted with tiny food shops. One small shop right at our corner was selling tea. I took a cup. The tea was good, full of ginger.
The middle-aged man running the shop said to me, “We make food too. Would you like some breakfast?” He had the little counter right outside a closed door. Only tea seemed to be on the menu. Where was the breakfast? He told me they made it inside. That they made lunch too, and that we could order on call and come and collect. Openly being open for business wasn’t allowed.
Huh.
We needed food. I took him up on his offer of poha: beaten rice made by sautéing it with onion, peanuts, and lemon, salt, etc. He called someone, and a lady, his wife, opened the door, ushered me in, closed the door behind me, and handed me the poha, repeating what her husband had said to me. A school-going kid played behind her, too. My chest warmed up; I was happy to be able to help a family.
The poha packet in hand, I grinned, and that grin stuck to my face, walked to our hotel to surprise Sagar, who must be hunched over his computer, having forgotten all thoughts of breakfast or tea.
I laid down the food packet in front of him. He jumped up and asked, “Where did you get this from?” My eyes sparkled.
“I have found a place.” Saying more would have reduced the effect of the mystery and diminished my success. I wanted him to feel he had missed out, to pull him out of his world and join me in mine. Hopefully, he wouldn’t figure out that I was feeling lost, a bit strayed.
At the beginning of the trip, newly dislocated from our home, I wasn’t yet anchored in my routine. I couldn’t start right away, and was a bit confused about what I was supposed to do.
So many questions ran rampant in my head.
Was I supposed to write articles on topics I had thought of before or places I had visited earlier, or should I have gone out and seen some things to visit in Udaipur and written about the present? How much more should I have been seeing? What was my day to look like? What would someone else in my place done? Would they have wandered, or sat back and observed? How deep should I have gone? Did the day count as a day well lived? Was it important to have the room cleaned or buy breakfast, or should we have been doing something more important, like working, like all our friends would be at that time?
Of course, as no one else was living my experience, I had to figure out all this myself. I had to answer the questions of others.
I should set the path.
That morning I had decided to go out and find us breakfast, and I had. While Sagar hadn’t seen all that. 1-0.
But the day began as it always does no matter how we dilly-dally. Some would say breakfast is not dilly-dally. Well, some days it is, and some days it is not. I took out my laptop and started writing. Lunch would be a break. The room always seemed to us the best place to work (it still does), so we stayed in (My guide on how to work from home might come handy). Unless there was a forest to go to. I put some of me in the work while peeking at the lake in between. Sagar was head deep in work.
At lunch, I must have kicked him, and we must have gone out. No. Newly enchanted by the tea-shop Uncle-Aunty and their first breakfast, we called them for lunch. They gave us a missed call when it was ready. We walked to collect it and took it upstairs to the restaurant, where we requested fresh plates, cups, and spoons. The tall and oldish caretaker, the sole employee at the time, duly placed the cutlery on a cleanish table, the least dusty one. Heaps of cups and plates were piled in the restaurant in one corner; they hadn’t been used in a while.
After lunch, we threw the garbage in the large empty dusty bin and returned to our room. Sagar must have gotten to work immediately. I might have been distracted or dozy. Eventually, writing would have overpowered, and we would have been immersed, happily. Three or four o’clock meant tea or coffee. I feel sleepy otherwise. So early on in our journey, we hadn’t figured out that we could keep a hot kettle with us and boil water and make our own cuppa. Sometimes, we went out for tea; otherwise, we requested hot water and cups and dissolved instant coffee and sugar in them.
A couple of times we went to a lakeside cafe. Afterward, perhaps some sightseeing. I am using the word sightseeing as a placeholder because what we do is not sightseeing. Or sometimes we just went out out, meaning we would have had coffee or tea and then saw the places to be visited in Udaipur.
Some of those outings were successful. We walked around the Pichola Lake. We sat at a cafe and had coffee and looked at the lake. I climbed up the Karni Mata Hill (I could’t see the temple but had a great view of Udaipur from up there so not sure whether to call it successful or unsuccessful). We went to the City Palace and gaped at glass chandeliers, painted dome ceilings, lattice windows, and more multicolored glass panes.
Sometimes they were unsuccessful. Like when we drove on eerily quiet roads to the Fateh Sagar lake, and it was empty. We looked at each other. “What’s happening here?”Only a quiet cleaner was sweeping the place with a long bamboo broom. I rolled down the window and asked him if the lake was closed. His eyes enlarged, he replied, “Don’t you know there is complete lock down on the weekend? It was announced yesterday. You shouldn’t be here.”
The air left our lungs. It wasn’t even a joke. We thanked him in a jiffy, turned around, and our eyes on the cop cars, sheepishly drove back to our large and empty parking space without any incident. Though police were given orders to let outside cars go, our experience in Mumbai had taught us that the police will harass you whenever they can to get money. Rajasthan police was cooperating with travelers better than any other state police, though. We walked to our hotel. Enough seen for the day.
Soon these hap hazardous, doubtful events, activities, and chores took shape and aligned and lined up, and a routine started to be formed.
This routine of a few days was only broken by a great lunch at a traditional restaurant where we ate a gluttonous multi-bowl thali and had a beer each at lunch. Another time we went for dinner at a lakeside fine dining. In the dimly lit place, we were directed to cushioned seats on the floor in a corner from where we got a full view of Pichola Lake. Soft classical music played, and a candle was lit on our table. We enjoyed the dinner, although the food must not have left an impression on me as I don’t remember it at all.
One afternoon, we took an auto rickshaw to Saheliyon ki Bari, a garden at the banks of the Fateh Sagar Lake. The garden was made in the early 1700s by the king for the queen and her forty-eight maidens who had accompanied her from her parents’ home. Under the strong sun, we quickly admired the marble elephants, ornate fountains, weed-covered lakes, and the stone sculptures. I didn’t feel like walking much on the wide, but tiled, walkways. We spent most of the time on a bench under a tree, watching two herons squabble over territory. We were the only ones in that part of the garden. The auto cost us INR 150 one-way and INR 100 for the return (in April 2021).
One day, we wanted to go to Gulaab Bagh, the rose garden, also known as the Sajjan Niwas Garden, but it was shut.
Our venture to the City Palace was successful. The royal palace was built in 1553 by the kings of Mewar, who ruled over a large south-eastern part of Rajasthan. That year they made Udaipur their capital, moving it from Chittor. The palace is now a museum, still owned and managed by the royal family. Several parts of the palace, which is a collection of many palaces built within its complex, have also been converted into heritage hotels.
And we didn’t even try going to the Jagmandir, the floating palace on the Pichola Lake (topping most lists of the best tourist places of Udaipur). It has been converted into a hotel, with an entry ticket of INR 700, about USD 8. That’s about two simples meals for us.
The days and their delicious slowness were also broken by us having to drive to the hospital out of town, which we assumed would be comparatively free, where we lined up for a covid test, which was needed for our onward journey. The drive was seamless, just a forward rush on the open sunny sandy highway, the craggy Aravalli mountains fringing us on both sides.
The visit was anything but seamless.
The hospital was crowded. To get one test done, we had to go to five to six different desks, each one multiple times. There were no directions or signs, though many people wanted their tests done. To get a doctor’s signature on a test form, we stood in line inside a ward filled with covid patients. For the first time, I saw covid patients, masks on, oxygen machines plugged in, and most laying openly on stretchers. Everyone was adjusting in the limited space. Then we had to ask about collecting the results and paying for it, and we again flitted between desks and floors, confused and worried.
I was wondering if the staff had pasted directions, how much work could have been avoided? But again, maybe the staff were hardly sleeping or eating. They must not have been their regular selves.
We waited to collect the reports. Out of the dreary, medicinal-smelling building, we ambled on the large ground to the cafeteria. We ordered two vegetarian thalis and were scolded when we asked for second helpings of the vegetables. They thought we were sharing food. You are supposed to order one thali each and eat from your own. After sometime, the test results were ready to be collected from another place about which we had to ask again. We weren’t worried about the results. We didn’t have a fever. I hadn’t coughed for years.
We were lucky.
We drove back to the town. Walked around the alleys, admired local Rajasthani scenes, homes, balconies, pots and pottery, Rajasthani things you know. We returned to a clean room. By now, we had extended our stay for many days, day by day, never sure how much more we had to stay, given we also had to secure the test. The owner had accepted our request to reduce the tariff. And the sole quiet caretaker and cleaner was duly cleaning our room, masks on, and when we tipped him, he grinned and was a happy guy suddenly.
That was our first Udaipur trip.
I remember Udaipur as an empty city, its lanes studded with lazy dogs snoozing in the sun, people watching you, most shops shut or shutters half closed, the lake all yours to see and sit by, all cafes and restaurants yours to eat at, all sunsets and all picture angles yours. I liked that Udaipur. It was special, though hurting. Now I don’t know how I will feel when I return, if I return. Would I like the city or would I wish it to be empty, knowing I didn’t want what I was wishing for?
Frankly, no matter how bad COVID was, how many people we lost, all of us individually, how much it took from us and our freedom, I found a sense of calm and stillness in it. Spaces were empty, places less crowded, things slow, nature and streets clean, no obligation to invite anyone, no one to visit, no meetings or meetups, no missed opportunities, hidden behind masks not even obliged to acknowledge another human, not many social codes to adhere to, not to decode which restaurant or country to go to, no service people coming home, nothing to go to.
Just you, your most adjacent person, and air, which was the most threatening thing, but not always where we were. Because soon we drove from Udaipur to Himachal, with a few more stops, and everything changed.
Those adventures in Udaipur will always be special. It was the first time I visited that royal city, a city of lakes and parrots and peacocks, and a city where an Aunty gave me a missed call so I could go and collect poha, dal, and bhindi.
Udaipur is crowded, hot, and dusty, but beautiful too. Stay on the lake. Be kind. Buy local and from families. Walk a lot. Have fun. That’s all.
Some Things To Do in Udaipur Rajasthan That I Could Actually Do
Karni Mata Temple: I think Karni Mata Hill, even if you don’t want to visit the temple, is worth visiting. Though you can get a good view of Udaipur from the Monsoon Palace, too. Perhaps choose one out of the two? I hiked to the top of the hill from the Din Dayal Park, but a ropeway runs to the Machala Hill, on which the temple is located. Try the ropeway.
Legend has it that Karni Mata had left her husband to get rid of worldly affairs and become a nomad. I can understand why.
Saheliyon ki Bari: I have written about this royal garden above, and I’d say when Udaipur gets crowded or hot on you, wander into these gardens for a respite.
The City Palace: The Royal Palace on the banks of Pichola Lake, which, I think, would be good to visit to understand the history of Udaipur. Maybe you have already seen many palaces in Rajasthan and elsewhere, or maybe heritage buildings are getting a bit too much? I’d suggest wandering in for a little while; you don’t have to see the place thoroughly.
Pichola Lake: I wouldn’t count it as one of the things to see in Udaipur as I was living on it. The banks of the lake, the ghats, are great to hang out, sit, and admire the boats ferrying tourists around the lake, some pausing occasionally at the Jagmandir. The lake is open all day, of course.
Some Must Visit Places in Udaipur City I Couldn’t See
Monsoon Palace: Also known as the Sajjangarh Fort, it was built by the Maharana Sajjan Singh in the 19th century. Monsoon Palace was built on top of a hill about five kilometers from the old city as an astronomical centre, but it turned into a monsoon and hunting lodge. There is also a small wildlife sanctuary at the foot of the hill. A Minivan, auto rickshaws, and shared taxis run to the hill, and then the hike up takes about an hour.
The charm of the Monsoon Palace is the views over Udaipur City. I couldn’t visit it due to lockdowns and restrictions, but I am sure I would have loved the place. Standing at the top of a hill, looking over a sanctuary and the Udaipur City, a forgotten palace that was built to watch stars but soon turned into a shelter from the rains, I like the sound of it. Definitely on my list of places to see near Udaipur.
Bagore Ki Haveli Museum: Constructed in the 1700s as a royal residence at Lake Pichola, Bagore ki Haveli, a magnificent building, once served as a royal guesthouse. When it came to the Indian government, it became a government guest house. Now it has been preserved as a museum with royal life artifacts stored in its 138 big rooms, corridors, halls, and courtyards. It was shut when I visited Udaipur, but looking at the pictures, I would recommend it. Rajasthani classical dance shows are regularly held at the museum.
Ahar Cenotaphs: Another one of the places to go near Udaipur for which I would have to go back to the city (in addition to the Monsoon Palace). These are royal cenotaphs, about 300 domed structures to commemorate the various members of the royal family, about five kilometers out of town. The cenotaphs look beautiful, as if existing in their own peaceful world. Could be a nice outing and a way to see how the royals liked to remember their family.
I don’t need to tell you that the best way to see any place is to walk around. Lanes and alleys of Udaipur are special. Lots of paintings, arched windows, and designer doors, not to mention the pots and pottery, imbue a special, timeless charm to the city. There are so many other places to see in Udaipur too. More art centers, buildings, and museums. And smaller villages around Udaipur, like Ahar village, which probably once housed the royal family, are said to be studded with history, artifacts, and museums as well.
Depending on how many days you have in Udaipur, make the trip a mix of nature, history, food, and people. Enjoy! Remember you can always go back so no need to hurry.
Where to Stay in Udaipur: The Best Accommodations in Town
I see that Hotel Panorama Haveli’s rating has gone down. Most reviews complain of cleanliness. Maybe the dust I had seen wasn’t just the dust collected during the lockdown. We would never know.
Let me suggest some alternate places to stay in Udaipur.
1. Jagat Niwas Palace: One of the premium heritage hotels of Udaipur that is actually a 17th century haveli (a large residence). It is a luxury comfortable stay right at the lake Pichola. You can’t reach the place by a car. Suites come with bathtubs, a large window seating overlooking the lake, and the aesthetics are pretty local. This is a luxurious property so the prices are high. You can browse through the reviews and book here.
2. Madri Retreat – Heritage Boutique Hotel with Pool: Spacious rooms with bathrooms equipped with bathtubs. Tea kettle and study desks provided in the room. It is not on Lake Pichola though, but the reviews are great so worth considering. It is in the luxurious category, with a pool, spa, and breakfast included. See the pictures here and reserve if you like.
3. Jaiwana Haveli: A mid-range hotel with great reviews right on the Pichola Lake. In-house restaurant and laundry services but no lift, as some guests with special needs complained. Their views are stunning, and an on-call tuktuk driver and guide is available to take the guests to places to visit in and near Udaipur. You can check out the haveli here.
4. Little Garden Guest House: Not on Lake Pichola, but only 300 meters away. Looks so pretty with aesthetic and traditional interiors and modern furnishings. The reviews speak highly of this little garden hotel. Most mention the property being superbly clean, the staff courteous, wifi strong, breakfast delicious, and I can go on. It is on the higher side of the mid-range, but a big breakfast is included. They have various room options so look here and choose.
5. Oolala-Your lake house in the center of Udaipur: Another highly praised hotel right on the Lake Pichola run by a friendly couple. Reviews talk of great balconies, delicious homemade food, and tips to discover the best places in Udaipur. There is a little library, too, and the large rooms look cosy. Oh, there is a shared kitchen as well. Rooms are mid-range, and the suites are more expensive. Reserve here.
6. Natural Lake View Hotel: Situated at the Lake Pichola, this heritage building comes with spacious rooms equipped with bathtubs and large window seatings giving a panoramic view of the lake. Budget prices and great reviews. Browse the pictures here and decide.
7. Turtle Hostel Udaipur: Finally a great hostel for the solo, budget travelers amongst us. They have rooms, too, and mixed dormitories with breakfast available at extra price. The reviews are solid, and it is right on the lake. Have a look here.
8. Hotel Pratap Bhawan: A simple no-fuss budget hotel at the lake with antique furnishing. Various kinds of rooms with a rooftop restaurant having great views of the lake. Expect the noise of the old city. Book here.
9. Footprint Hostel Udaipur: Another great hostel with rooms, mixed dorms, and apartments along with a lovely rooftop. Check it out here.
Oh and before I go.
10. Taj Lake Palace Udaipur: I have been fortunate to stay in one of the Taj properties (in Calcutta) and can’t recommend them enough. The Taj group will make sure to give you a comfortable stay no matter what. Taj Lake Palace is right on the lake Pichola, I mean it is on an island on the lake. The heritage building was once the summer palace of the royal Mewar family. Of course it comes with exquisite interiors, the best furnishings and equipments, and unbeatable views. This is luxurious so the prices are steep. Look at the stunning pictures here and reserve if you like. You can’t go wrong with Taj!
How did you like my guide to the places to go in Udaipur (Rajasthan)? Did you enjoy the narrative? Tell me in comments please.
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