I stayed at Chanoud Garh, a 335-year-old fort-palace in Rajasthan, India

This is a palace stay for people who want to learn more about India's culture and rural life.

"A place like ours isn’t a hotel,” says Jairaj Singh as he welcomes me to Chanoud Garh with a garland of frangipanis and a cooling glass of tamarind and cumin juice. “It’s a home with a soul.” His 335-year-old family pile – part palace, part fort – towers above the small village of Chanoud, roughly midway between the tourist drawcards of Jodhpur and Udaipur in Indian’s northwestern Rajasthan state.

Jairaj and his family – sister Swati, brother Mahiraj and their parents – live here much as their ancestors have done for 13 generations. Except that in 2013, after an exacting eight-year renovation, they opened 10 rooms so paying guests could experience the genuine, timeless rituals of an Indian town.

“We wanted to keep it intimate because it’s sharing our life,” Jairaj explains. “Houses like this, to be very honest with you, they have a societal role. Even today after 70 years of independence, if there’s anything that happens in this area of 30 villages, people will come to you.”

Proving the point, I see his father Thakur Ajeet Singhji receive a delegation of local men in the garden gazebo before I head out on a guided walk of Chanoud. As a (temporary) resident of the most important house in the village, I’m treated like an honoured guest wherever I go. “Everybody in the village is connected to this house, and they are proud,” Jairaj explains.

Manager Nima-bhai and I encounter no fewer than four wedding parties on our stroll, the guests all dressed as brightly as rainbows and delighted to pose for photos and answer (and ask!) questions. An elderly woman waves to me from her doorway where she’s reclining on a low bed, keeping an eye on comings and goings. Nima-bhai tells me she is 105 – the great-grandmother, I think, of one of the young men getting hitched. I meet brides and grooms, fathers and mothers and many, many children eager to show off their crisp new outfits. There’s joy in the air.

The rooms are furnished with antique heirlooms and rich fabrics. Picture: Nikhil Kapur.

Back at Chanoud Garh, my suitably palatial ground-floor suite opens to a long veranda lined with wicker chairs, daybeds and flowering pot plants. It faces the frangipani-scented central garden with its fountain and pavilions, bordered by the painted, carved and columned wings of the palace.

In my suite there is a daybed and two giant king-size beds, each seven feet square and set on carved marble bases. The capacious bathroom, also marble, has scalloped windows of coloured glass that cast pretty patterns over proceedings. Walls are clad in red sandstone arches carved with flowering vines, and rooms furnished with antique heirlooms and rich fabrics. Framed photographs of Jairaj’s grandfather’s wedding in 1937 depict a stately pageant of palanquins, carriages and elephants.

The ghosts of those glory days persist at Chanoud Garh. In an outer courtyard there are still camel stables and hitching stones to tie up your tuskers (the palace once had three elephants). In the deepest recesses of the fortress I find ancient doors painted with miniatures, a chain-mail suit and opium jugs. More than a hotel, this is a living museum.

I feast like a royal in the mirrored and balconied dining room. Picture: Nikhil Kapur.

I feast like a royal in the mirrored and balconied dining room where Jairaj’s mother, Thakurani Sahiba Marudhar Kumari, prepares banquets of intensely local dishes from family recipes. “Everything in front of you, it’s as pure as you can get,” says Jairaj as we tuck into a parade of plates that include spice-warmed tomato soup, safed aloo potatoes in a fenugreek and yoghurt gravy, a mild chicken and coriander curry, and okra with onions and green chilli. There is no menu. “In two nights you will taste more than 20 dishes that give you the story of the area,” he smiles.

Nowhere does palace hotels like India. Their heady combination of opulence, romance and history – exemplified by world-famous properties such as the Lake Palace in Udaipur and Jaipur’s Rambagh Palace – is a breed apart. But few offer the vivid authenticity of this place. Their stories are mostly dead whereas Chanoud is a time-capsule of enduring rural traditions.

Besides village walks, guests can head off on jeep safaris to the local saltpans (with bonus flamingos), stalk leopards, attend local festivals, laze beside the infinity pool surrounded by wild peacocks, and sip G&Ts on the domed rooftop at dusk, the sky still ablaze behind the Aravalli Hills, as Damami musicians sing, strum and drum folk songs about lovesick princesses and migratory Mongolian cranes.

Jairaj’s mother, Thakurani Sahiba Marudhar Kumari, prepares banquets of intensely local dishes from family recipes. Picture: Supplied.

As Jairaj says, “This is a palace stay for people who want to understand a little deeper about India, and about rural life.”

Tailor-made touring

Chanoud Garh was the (inspired) suggestion of my hosts at A-list travel agency Banyan Tours, who use their insider contacts and expertise to craft personalised itineraries that showcase the breadth and wonder of India.

Originally published as I stayed at Chanoud Garh, a 335-year-old fort-palace in Rajasthan, India