India’s golden stars: from a 24-carat temple to a mountain retreat with hypnotic views, prepare to be dazzled

As far as the first days go, this one will be hard to beat. I am in Amritsar, Northern India – on a farm where, after milking the cows, I am dressed in a turban. Then I’m taken to the Golden Temple, a sacred Sikh shrine with a marble exterior dripping in 24-karat gold.

At night he shimmers, shines and floats majestically in a pond, while his reflection glitters in the water. During the day, the temple takes on a serene, almost ethereal hue.

Moreover, this 420-year-old temple houses the largest kitchen in the world. On the ground floor, volunteers chop garlic and onions, on the floor above they stir steaming vats of dahl, and on the top floor there is a chapatti-making assembly line where I help roll the dough into thin circles.

About 100,000 people are fed here every day, because Sikhs believe that no one should go hungry. It is noble and brilliant.

India has a population of 1.4 billion (the second highest in the world) and because traveling here can be a culture shock, many holidaymakers prefer to go on a guided tour.

I took part in one such ten-day tour of northern India with small-group specialist Jules Verne, which has itineraries that visit lesser-known places and promises ‘authentic journeys with a twist’. The average group size is around 20 (although we only have eight). We never feel ‘led’, but are accompanied by locals who show us around and share insights. In a stroke of luck, they even lead us to a Bollywood film set.

The Punjab city of Amritsar has recently undergone a makeover, with shiny new pedestrianized market streets fanning out from the temple. But it is still physically scarred by its history. Bullet marks on walls reveal where the British Raj massacred thousands of innocent civilians in 1919.

And its siege in 1984 led to hundreds of deaths and the assassination of then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi. However, the region’s darkest moments occurred after the country’s 1947 partition, approved by the British.

This created Pakistan – Amritsar is only thirty kilometers from the border – and led to the slaughter of an estimated two million displaced Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs. Their story is told in graphic, disturbing detail at the city’s Partition Museum and our guide, Jagroopsingh, shares his thoughts. “Imagine the superpower India would be today if Pakistan and Bangladesh were still part of it,” he says.

Jo visits the India-Pakistan border in Wagah to attend the daily border closing ceremony. Held in a packed stadium with a capacity of 30,000 people, it is a frenzied pageantry, with soldiers marching, high-kicking and shaking hands. In the photo: Indian Border Force personnel during such a ceremony

Jo visits Amritsar, Dharamshala and Shimla before ending with a local train journey to Delhi

Today there is peace. We visit the India-Pakistan border at Wagah to attend the daily closing ceremony. Held in a packed stadium with a capacity of 30,000 people, it is a frenzied pageantry, with soldiers marching, high-kicking and shaking hands.

After a few nights in Amritsar we head towards the foothills of the Himalayas in a convoy of three white Toyotas.

There is no traffic code; instead it’s an unnerving, free-for-all of honking, swerving rickshaws and trucks. India has enormous distances to cover, so prepare for long, bumpy journeys – and cows.

They are considered sacred, roam freely and pose a constant danger. “If you kill one, even by accident, I will be hunted down and beaten up,” says our driver, Vinod, as he waits patiently for one to cross the road. Our journey is broken up with several overnight stays, including one in India’s first private forest reserve, Kikar Lodge. Leopards, jungle cats and antelopes call this home and we hope to spot them on a jeep safari – but if they prove shy we enjoy a sunset under the stars instead.

Jo travels to the hill station of Shimla (pictured) ‘where the British Raj used to escape the summer heat’

Jo says Shimla was ‘a small village of 100 people’ when the British Raj found it in 1815, but now has a population of 200,000, plus lots of monkeys (above)

The next day we catch our first glimpse of the Himalayan hills in the Kangra Valley, where the exiled Dalai Lama created his own slice of Tibet. We visit his monastery in Dharamshala and come across a large gathering of Buddhist monks in a heated debate about something or other.

The higher we climb, the bigger the mountains. We acclimatize for a few nights at the Rakkh Resort in Palampur – a 1,300-metre-high retreat that offers yoga, meditation and an early morning trek through the local village’s ten-hectare tea plantation. Their unique Kangra blend is available in the hotel and the cuppa I make in my room is delicious – fragrant and delicate.

Another 900 meters up takes us to the Taj Theog Resort, where the air is crisp and clear and the views hypnotic. The steep slopes beyond are dotted with rice fields, while the higher peaks beyond are covered in snow. It’s an awe-inspiring, energetic view that’s impossible to get enough of.

This is our base to explore the hill station of Shimla, where the British Raj used to escape the summer heat. When they found it in 1815, it was a small village of 100 inhabitants. Now it has a population of 200,000 (with almost as many pesky langur monkeys) and a brave no plastic or smoking policy.

The crumbling pastel-colored houses cling precariously to the hills and several colonial buildings still stand, including the Viceregal Lodge where Lord Mountbatten, India’s last Viceroy, once lived. The interior is beautiful, with elaborate chandeliers and spiral staircases made of dark Burmese wood. Chillingly, the desk where the divider was set up is still in place.

In the photo: one of the rooms at the Rakkh Resort in the Himalayas, where Jo is staying. She says it’s a “1,400-foot retreat that offers yoga, meditation and an early morning tour of the local village’s ten-acre tea plantation.”

The trip ends with a local train ride to Delhi, where we’ll gain insight into life in India’s capital during an immersive tour. We admire the red and white architecture of the Mughal era, learn the art of paper cutting and make perfume. And you can try the local Punjab specialty ‘Kulcha’, India’s answer to a Cornish pasty: warm bread filled with meat, cheese or vegetables, served with sweet chutney.

Best of all is a cycle rickshaw ride through the noisy warren of alleys of the old city, breathing in the heady scents of incense as we cycle past stalls selling saris and street food.

A tour through India is not relaxing. It’s intense, but it’s a party. For body and soul.