31. Exploring Dehradun solo
There’s something magical about waking up at 5 AM in the hills, when the mist still clings to the valleys and the world feels untouched. During my solo trip to Dehradun and Mussoorie, I lived that rhythm for 4–5 days straight — exploring from dawn till late night, returning to my room only around 11 PM, exhausted yet exhilarated. Those long days became some of the most rewarding experiences of my travels in India.
In Dehradun, I wandered through the grand halls of the Forest Research Institute, soaked in the serenity of Tapkeshwar Temple, and found peace at the Mindrolling Monastery, where conversations with monks left me thoughtful. But the most unforgettable moment came at Robber’s Cave (Gucchu Pani). Walking through the stream and slippery rocks, I nearly fell while climbing behind the waterfall — a misadventure that could have ended badly. Luckily, I survived with nothing more than a racing heartbeat and a lesson: nature is beautiful, but it demands respect.
Why This Trip Stands Out
- The discipline of early mornings and long days gave me a deeper connection to the hills.
- The Robber’s Cave incident reminded me of the thin line between adventure and risk.
- The mix of nature, culture, and human kindness turned the trip into a story of resilience and discovery.
32. Hrishikesh and Haridwar Ganga Aarathi
Travel often leaves you with more than photographs — it leaves you with moments that stay etched in memory. My solo journey to Rishikesh was one such experience, blending spirituality, music, and adventure.
Arriving at the base camp a day early gave me time to explore, and the very first evening I walked to Triveni Ghat. As the sun dipped, the air filled with chants, bells, and the glow of lamps floating on the Ganga. The Ganga Aarti was not just a ritual; it was a spectacle of devotion and energy. Standing there among fellow travelers, I felt a deep connection — to the river, to the people, and to something larger than myself. That moment alone made Rishikesh unforgettable.
Beyond the Aarti, Rishikesh offered layers of experiences. I wandered through the Beatles Ashram (Maharshi Mahesh Yogi Ashram), where faded murals and meditation huts whispered stories of the band’s search for peace. Though the place wasn’t well maintained, the art inside the “Beatles Cathedral” spoke in the language of music and meditation.
I crossed the iconic Laxman Jhula and Ram Jhula, suspension bridges that connect villages and pilgrims, each buzzing with markets selling handicrafts and rudraksha beads. I visited ashrams like Yoganiketan, where yoga and meditation continue to shape Rishikesh’s identity as the “Yoga Capital of the World.”
Though monsoon season kept me from trying bungee jumping and river rafting, the city’s spiritual pulse more than compensated. From temples like Triambakeshwar to the calm of Swarg Ashram, Rishikesh revealed itself as a place where mythology, meditation, and modern seekers converge.
Why This Trip Stands Out
- Ganga Aarti at Triveni Ghat – A soul‑stirring highlight, blending devotion and atmosphere.
- Beatles Ashram – A quirky mix of history, art, and music.
- Jhulas & Ashrams – Bridges and spiritual centers that define Rishikesh’s character.
- Missed Adventures – Bungee and rafting closed in monsoon, but the spiritual experiences filled the gap.
This journey was more than sightseeing — it was about standing by the Ganga at dusk, watching lamps float downstream, and feeling the timeless rhythm of faith and music. That memory alone secures Rishikesh a place among my top 30–50 experiences in India.
33. Badami, Aihole, Pattadakallu, Banashankari
Some journeys are more than sightseeing — they become milestones. My two‑day trip covering Badami, Aihole, Pattadakal, Banashankari, and Koodala Sangama was exactly that. It wasn’t just about temples and architecture; it was about friendship, confidence, and the joy of slow travel.
We set out from Bangalore with my best buddies, the plan sparked by a college friend’s wedding. The road was long, but the excitement of visiting these historic sites kept us awake. Our first stop was Banashankari Temple, where the blend of Chalukyan origins and Maratha reconstructions drew pilgrims from both Karnataka and Maharashtra. The morning pooja set the tone for a spiritual yet adventurous trip.
From there, Badami unfolded like a living museum. The cave temples — Shiva in Cave 1, Vishnu in Cave 2 and 3, and Jain Tirthankaras in Cave 4 — showcased the brilliance of Chalukyan architecture. Standing by Agastya Lake and exploring the Bhuthanatha temples, I felt transported back in time. The fort and Malegatti Shivalaya added layers of history to the experience.
Next came Pattadakal, a UNESCO heritage site, where the sculptors truly reached their peak. The Virupaksha and Sangameshwara temples stood as engineering marvels. If Ellora and Hoysala temples are India’s top architectural wonders, Pattadakal surely belongs in the elite top three, with Tanjavur perhaps claiming the fourth spot. The sculptures here were simply top‑notch, leaving me awestruck.
At Aihole, the “cradle of Indian architecture,” I wandered slowly through temples dating back to 510 AD. Despite some damage to the sculptures, the variety of styles — Nagara, Dravidian, Kadamba, Mantapa, and Gaja Prishta — revealed the experimental spirit of the Chalukyas. Exploring alone in the drizzle, I savored the quiet rhythm of slow travel, taking time to absorb every detail.
Finally, we reached Koodala Sangama, where the Krishna and Malaprabha rivers merge. This sacred site, home to the Aikya Samadhi of Basavanna, radiated peace. Sitting under the banyan tree after darshan, I felt a deep calm. If Badami, Aihole, and Pattadakal were about architectural brilliance, Koodala Sangama was about spirituality and reflection.
The trip ended with my friend’s wedding, where the hospitality of North Karnataka villagers and the joy of reunion added warmth to the journey. It was the perfect blend of heritage, spirituality, and friendship.
Why This Trip Stands Out
- Elite Architecture: Badami, Aihole, and Pattadakal rank among India’s finest, alongside Ellora, Hoysala, and Tanjavur.
- Dream Fulfilled: Visiting Banashankari and Koodala Sangama was long‑awaited and gave me confidence to plan more trips.
- Friendship & Celebration: Covered with my best buddies and capped by a college friend’s marriage.
- Slow Travel: Exploring temples at my own pace made the experience richer.
- Importance: Easily among my top 50 experiences in India for its history, sculptures, and personal meaning.
This journey was not just about ticking off heritage sites - it was about living history, cherishing friendships, and embracing slow travel.
34. Exploring Lonavala and Aurangabad
raveling through Maharashtra was more than just exploring forts and caves — it was about friendship, adventure, and the joy of slow journeys.
The mighty Daulatabad Fort (Devagiri) stood as a reminder of medieval ambition. Its steep climb, secret passages, and massive gates tested our stamina, but reaching the top felt like conquering history itself.
Closer to Pune, we trekked to Lohagad Fort. Mist and drizzle wrapped the fort in mystery, while the panoramic views of the Western Ghats rewarded every step. My friend Arjun was with me, and I kept nudging him to walk more, to push past his comfort zone. His laughter, fatigue, and eventual triumph made the climb unforgettable.
The valleys of Lonavala added charm, with waterfalls and green ridges turning the train journey into a ride with nature. The Karla Caves, with their grand chaitya halls carved into rock, revealed the artistry of Hinayana Buddhist architecture — a quiet sanctuary carved from stone.
What made this trip even more special was the timing: it was Ganesh Chaturthi. With cameras in hand, we clicked countless pictures of the celebrations. People noticed us moving around with lenses and tripods, and many assumed we were journalists. We played along, saying we were “journalism students.” That playful moment added a layer of fun to the spiritual atmosphere, blending tradition with youthful mischief.
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Every leg of the journey carried the rhythm of slow travel — waiting at railway stations at dawn, sharing food with fellow passengers, and savoring each destination without rushing. It wasn’t just about ticking off places; it was about living them fully, with friendship and festivity woven into the experience.
Why This Journey Stands Out
- Architectural Heritage: Daulatabad’s fortifications and Karla’s Buddhist caves showcased Maharashtra’s layered history.
- Adventure & Nature: Lohagad trek and Lonavala valleys gave me the thrill of exploration.
- Friendship: Traveling with Arjun and encouraging him to walk more added camaraderie and joy.
- Festivity: Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations, cameras, and being mistaken for journalists made the trip lively.
- Slow Travel: The joy of savoring each moment made the journey unforgettable.
This chapter of Maharashtra travel was about forts that defied empires, caves that preserved faith, landscapes that rewarded patience, and the companionship that made every step worthwhile — easily earning its place among my top 30–50 experiences in India.
35. Lotus Temple, Bangla Sahib and Chandini Chowk, Delhi (solo)
Delhi is a city that never stops teaching you something new. On my solo journey, three places stood out and defined the rhythm of my days — the calm of the Lotus Temple, the devotion at Bangla Sahib Gurudwara, and the chaos of Chandni Chowk.
The Lotus Temple was unlike anything I had imagined. Its architecture, shaped like a blooming lotus, was stunning, but what struck me most was its inclusivity. A prayer hall where anyone, from any faith, could sit in silence or recite spiritual texts — it was a lesson in unity and peace.
At Bangla Sahib Gurudwara, spirituality took a different form. The golden dome reflected in the holy sarovar, the soothing hymns inside, and the langar served selflessly by volunteers created an atmosphere of humility and service. Walking through its museum and learning about Sikh history left me deeply moved.
Then came Chandni Chowk, the beating heart of Old Delhi. Narrow lanes bursting with shops, the aroma of parathas and lassi at Parathewali Galli, and the sheer energy of the crowd made it unforgettable. It was messy, noisy, and alive — a perfect contrast to the serenity of the temples and gurudwara.
Why This Journey Stands Out
- Lotus Temple: A symbol of inclusivity and architectural beauty.
- Bangla Sahib Gurudwara: Spirituality expressed through service and humility.
- Chandni Chowk: Food, chaos, and the living pulse of Delhi.
This Delhi chapter was about finding balance between silence, devotion, and street buzz — a journey that reminded me why solo travel makes every experience more personal and profound.
36. Ajanta - A Journey Back to Ancient Times
There are moments in travel when history stops being words in a book and suddenly stands before you in stone and paint. My visit to the Ajanta Caves was one such moment — a dream fulfilled after years of reading about sculptures and watching songs that celebrated their beauty.
Ajanta was my first UNESCO heritage exploration, and it changed the way I looked at travel. Until then, I had visited places like Red Fort, Qutub Minar, and Mahabalipuram without notes or deeper study. But Ajanta made me realize that travel isn’t just about ticking destinations — it’s about learning culture, history, and the creativity of our ancestors.
The caves, carved into a semicircular scarp, were once sanctuaries for Buddhist monks. Discovered in 1819 by British officers while hunting, they now stand as timeless marvels. The paintings inside the caves — though fading — still whisper stories of Buddha’s teachings, daily life, and even fashion. Some designs have inspired sari patterns and everyday art. The sculptures, especially the Sleeping Buddha in Cave 26, left me awestruck.
Walking through caves like 1, 2, 9, 10, 16, 17, 19, and 26, I saw how Hinayana and Mahayana styles blended, how colors were made from natural materials like quartz and rice, and how even damaged rocks were ingeniously preserved. The guide explained details patiently, and I realized that even with modern technology, we cannot match the artistry and observation skills of those ancient sculptors.
Ajanta wasn’t just about architecture — it was about reflection. It taught me that creativity comes from experience and observation, not obsession with technology. It reminded me that history is not only to be admired but also preserved responsibly for future generations.
Why This Journey Stands Out
- First UNESCO heritage site visit that deepened my love for sculpture and history.
- Artistic brilliance in paintings and carvings that have inspired designs for centuries.
- Spiritual depth in Buddhist themes blending Hinayana and Mahayana traditions.
- Personal growth — Ajanta made me calmer, more thoughtful, and more committed to slow, meaningful travel.
This journey to Ajanta was about stepping into ancient times, learning from the past, and realizing that true travel is about culture, creativity, and reflection — a memory that easily belongs among my top 30–50 experiences in India.
38. Work from Waynad and Chembara Peak Trek
Waynad became my sanctuary from work stress—a place where weekdays were for quiet hostel work and weekends unfolded into adventures. The balance was perfect, giving me space to breathe, reflect, and explore.
The trek to Chembara Peak was unforgettable. We started early, and my hostel’s temporary manager dropped me at the base. Since the trek fee is collected per group, I joined some medical students—strangers who soon became companions. The climb tested my endurance; my legs felt heavy, but self-motivation kept me moving. Reaching the summit was exhilarating, and later, watching the sunset from Chembara Peak with my roommates painted the sky in colors that felt eternal.
Another day, I walked from the main road to Suchipara Waterfall, wandering through plantations on either side. The path itself was a journey—lush greenery, earthy scents, and the quiet rhythm of rural life. By the time I reached the falls, tired yet fulfilled, I realized that the trek was as much about resilience as it was about discovery.
Closer to my hostel was Kanthanpara Waterfall, a hidden gem that we visited together. Unlike the long treks, this was a short escape, but its charm was undeniable. The gentle cascade, surrounded by greenery, felt like nature’s way of offering calm after days of adventure.
Exploring Sulthan Bathery added another layer to the trip. The town had its own charm, but searching for vegetarian food there turned into a challenge. Most eateries leaned heavily towards non-vegetarian options, and finding something simple and satisfying took effort. It was a reminder that travel isn’t always about comfort—it’s about adapting, discovering, and sometimes laughing at the little struggles along the way.
The evenings at the hostel carried their own rhythm. One night, my roommates arranged a barbecue, bringing in fresh chicken. Since I’m vegetarian, I chose to spend that time reading quietly, letting the crackle of the fire and the laughter around me become the background music to my solitude. Solo travel, I realized, isn’t about being alone—it’s about choosing your own pace, whether in company or in quiet reflection.
Waynad gave me more than just a break from work. It gave me treks that tested my endurance, waterfalls that refreshed my spirit, new friends who shared the journey, and even small challenges like finding vegetarian food in Sulthan Bathery. Together, these moments reminded me why travel is the best antidote to stress—it teaches resilience, rewards curiosity, and leaves you with stories worth telling.
37. In the footsteps of the Cholas
The journey through the Chola temples was not just a visit—it was an experience that touched every sense. At Thanjavur’s Brihadisvara Temple, the towering vimana against the morning sky was breathtaking. The clang of temple bells mixed with the murmur of devotees, and the fragrance of incense lingered in the air. Walking barefoot on the cool stone floors, I felt the weight of centuries beneath my feet. Every carving seemed alive, whispering stories of Rajaraja I’s vision and devotion.
At Gangaikonda Cholapuram, the atmosphere was strikingly different. Unlike Thanjavur, which still feels like a living heritage site, Gangaikonda Cholapuram has become more of a tourist place than a sacred sanctuary. The grandeur of Rajendra Chola I’s creation was undeniable, but the sense of reverence was diluted by the bustle of visitors treating it as a stopover rather than a timeless monument. It left me wishing for more care and narration of its glorious past, so that it could reclaim its rightful place as a heritage treasure.
Then came Darasuram’s Airavatesvara Temple, where serenity wrapped itself around me like a gentle embrace. The air was still, broken only by the soft hum of prayers. The sculptures here were so intricate that I found myself tracing them with my fingers, marveling at how stone could be turned into lace. The calm atmosphere made me want to stay forever, as if the temple itself was a sanctuary from the outside world.
There were small, delightful moments too—the lemon rice served inside the temple, tangy and comforting, tasted like prasadam straight from the gods. The museum nearby narrated Tamil culture with such passion that it felt like stepping into the lives of the people who once thrived under the Cholas.
Yet, as I soaked in the grandeur of the Cholas, a thought lingered. The Kannada kings—Kadambas, Chalukyas, Rashtrakootas, Hoysalas—ruled South India for nearly 1500 years, shaping language, literature, and architecture with equal brilliance. Their temples at Pattadakal, Badami, Belur, and Halebidu are masterpieces, their contributions monumental. But unlike Tamil Nadu’s proud narration of the Cholas, Karnataka’s tourism has not given these dynasties the same spotlight. Their stories remain under-told, waiting to be celebrated with the grandeur they deserve.
Walking out of these temples, I realized heritage is not just about stone and sculpture—it is about how we choose to tell its story. The Chola temples reminded me of the power of narration, while the silence around Kannada dynasties reminded me of the stories still waiting to be heard. And just like that simple lemon rice, which carried the essence of tradition in its taste, heritage too is best savored when narrated with care—simple, authentic, and unforgettable.
39. Exploring Ooty - A Journey with Sarvesh
Ooty unfolded like a canvas of misty hills, winding roads, and hidden gems. Traveling with Sarvesh made the trip even more memorable, as we set out to explore beyond the usual tourist trails. One of the highlights was a small trek to the lesser-known Katherine Waterfall. The path was quiet, untouched by crowds, and every step felt like a discovery. The sound of cascading water hidden deep in the forest was our reward, a secret corner of Ooty that felt like it belonged only to us.
From there, we hopped into an auto and made our way to Coonoor, weaving through tea plantations and charming streets. The ride itself was an adventure—open to the breeze, with the hills rolling past us like a moving painting. Exploring Coonoor gave us a glimpse of its laid-back charm, a contrast to Ooty’s busier vibe.
The Ooty toy train was another unforgettable experience. As the train chugged slowly through tunnels and across bridges, the rhythmic sound of wheels against tracks felt almost meditative. Watching the hills, valleys, and tea gardens pass by from the window was like stepping into a postcard. It wasn’t just a ride—it was a journey through time, carrying the nostalgia of a bygone era.
We also explored some of Ooty’s famous tourist spots where the Bollywood movie Raaz was shot, adding a cinematic touch to the trip. The Botanical Garden was especially memorable—its sprawling lawns, exotic plants, and vibrant flower beds felt like nature’s own art gallery. Wandering through the garden, we could see why filmmakers chose it as a backdrop; it was both picturesque and timeless.
And of course, no trip to Ooty is complete without indulging in its local treats. We bought some Ooty chocolates, rich and creamy, the perfect way to end a day of exploration. That simple joy of unwrapping and savoring them added sweetness to the journey, quite literally.
Not every moment was easy, though. Being scared of dogs, the street dog attack I faced was a horrible experience that shook me. It was a reminder that travel isn’t always about postcard-perfect views—it also brings unexpected challenges. Yet, even in that fear, I found resilience, and the rest of the journey reminded me that difficulties are part of the larger adventure.
Together, these moments—trekking to Katherine Waterfall, exploring Coonoor, riding the toy train, visiting Raaz film locations and the Botanical Garden, savoring chocolates, and even facing fears—made Ooty more than just a hill station. It became a story of exploration, companionship, and the joy of finding beauty in both the hidden and the celebrated corners of the Nilgiris.
40. Alvas NudiSiri - The meet up of diverse culture and literature
Being at Alva’s Nudisiri was like stepping into a living poem. It wasn’t just about literature—it was about how literature breathes through music, rhythm, and movement. The evenings especially felt magical, when the stage turned into a mosaic of rare dances from across India and beyond.
I still remember the thrill of watching Yakshagana, its dramatic storytelling echoing the spirit of Karnataka, followed by the delicate grace of Kathakali from Kerala, each gesture painted with centuries of tradition. Then came the vibrant Bihu from Assam, the earthy Chhau from Odisha, and the soulful Lavani from Maharashtra—each performance carrying the heartbeat of its land.
The outcome of these three days was more than just memories of performances. It was a deep sense of connection, as if I had traveled across states and countries without leaving my seat. Nudisiri reminded me that literature and dance together form a universal rhythm, and being part of it made me feel like a citizen of a larger cultural family.
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