Vanyavilas-An Oberoi Resort
Rajasthan, India

Under the spell of a starlit dinner and an evening of tiger tales, I lie listening. The jungle winds billow the silk lining of my tent against its canvas canopy. The tent wallah (worker) had closed the curtains and doors for the evening, but I opened them again to eavesdrop on the cicadas, crickets and a distant cry of a bigger beast. This morning a langur monkey—baby clutched to her breast—scampered off my garden wall to pluck mallow flowers for breakfast. Not a standard-issue 5-star wake-up call, but then Vanyavilas is not a standard-issue luxury resort.

India’s Oberoi hotel dynasty is reinventing India’s—and the world’s—notion of an epicurean hotel. Inspired, perhaps, by Rajasthan’s famous minuscule paintings, the Oberois have created a series of miniatures—exquisite, intimate habitats basking in India’s culture and crafts. In celebrating the past, they’ve set resorts on the path to the future.

Set on 20 acres of dry forest jungle in Rajasthan, Vanyavilas is near the Ranthambhore Tiger Reserve, once the hunting preserve of the erstwhile Maharajas of Jaipur. It’s a base for "hunting" tigers and the Oberois have created the hospitality and atmosphere of a royal hunting party. Guests gather and dine in the Oberoi interpretation of a royal hunting lodge and sleep in royal tents.

Entering at sunset, through a ceremonial gatehouse, the simple, elegant building of Rajasthan sandstone glows a luminous peach. Two life-size stone elephants—symbols of India’s royalty—mark the entrance. Fiery torches rise behind them to light the way. A scallop-arch door frames gaiety inside. All is reflected, mini Taj-like, in the courtyard’s still pool.

Elegantly-turbaned and sari-clad, the staff glides over cool black marble to make all welcome. Hand-painted royal blue and gold elephants are illuminated by the crystal chandelier as they cavort on the frieze. A peacock spreads its tail the mural above a settee. An antique water jar, the size of a baby elephant, stands as a central table. Along the walls, niches behind scalloped arches offer the hotel’s services.

In the library, a black marble fireplace is flanked, floor to ceiling, with bookshelves. Opposite, the gossamer tracings of a Dhok tree are painted in gold on a royal-blue wall. Books on tigers, India and the world invite solitary teas. At night, the soft pillows, sofas and lights invite fireside drinks.

"Inside or Out?" is the Vanyavilas dining quandary. Inside, the formal dining area—white table cloths, plush arm chairs and air-conditioning—is lined with a local artist’s miniatures. Outside, the central courtyard is lined with tables. Carved wooden chairs, hand-crafted appliqué pillows and block print table linens create its cheerful setting. The evening’s bonfire sparkles as does the lively and imaginative cuisine.

Follow the path beyond the pool, through the gardens and past the guava and pomegranate orchards. Go over a water course and beyond a red-hot flame tree the tents are spread out like sails across the desert. There are just 25 of them. Each has its own walled garden and an all-the-way-around deck for shaded lounging—or nude sunbathing. Each is a private haven.

Inside, the large tent is divided into two areas. The four poster bed in the sleeping/sitting area is the ideal place from which to contemplate the tiny tigers embroidered in gold and shining like stars on the tent’s silk lining. Purely decorative mosquito netting, tiger rugs and campaign chests add to the camping appeal. The tent’s central partition hides closets, a desk, phone and mini-bar that adds to the modern appeal.

An out-of-Africa bath tub stands in the center of the high-shine wood floor on the other side. Set discreetly back from the French doors that lead to the garden, one can simultaneously bathe and bird watch. There’s a heated towel rack to one side and a nearby table for a gin and tonic. A roll-top contraption to hold a book and other necessary soaking accoutrements. If it weren’t for the tigers, bath lovers might never emerge from the tub.

But there are tigers. The 215 acre Ranthambhore Tiger Preserve is composed of Ranthambhore National Park and several adjoining wildlife sanctuaries. It’s part of India’s Project Tiger—a national effort to save the tiger from extinction. The Preserve’s steep hills, lakes and jungle are home not only to tigers, but leopards, crocodiles, sloth bears, peacocks and many more monkeys. A fort, nearly ten centuries old, a lake palace and many temples adds to its charm.

Ranthambhore reports more tiger sightings than other preserves. The Vanyavilas’ staff works hard to insure each guest their best chance for a sighting as access to the preserve is limited. Only 14 tiger-viewing jeeps—called gypsies—are allowed in the preserve at one time. They rotate guides and routes through the park. Working closely with park officials, staff puts together the best combination possible for each guest. If necessary, a staff person lines up at the park at 4:30 in the morning to get a guest who is only wait-listed into a gypsy. Myself, I did see a tiger—and her two cubs.

Vanyavilas’ resident elephants, Lakshmi and Mala, are a whole lot easier to spot. Decked in elephant finery, they’re often waiting for guests by the front gates. Lakshmi is only sixteen. She can be naughty. Mala is twenty and very playful. Each of India’s working elephants has its own handler, called a mahout, who stays with it for its whole life. Lakshmi and Mala’s mahouts have a stash of cookies. They let me give them to their girls along with the bananas I sneaked off the fruit platter.

The girls take guests for rides and picnics around the park—although they are not allowed inside. Lakshimi wasn’t naughty, elephants are not native to this part of India and the park doesn’t want them competing for food—they do have big appetites.

Lakshmi and Mala were the first Vanyavilas ‘staff’ to greet me—but they were the only ones to mooch treats. No tipping-no service charge is the rule here. The Vanyavilas staff is as young, friendly and enthusiastic as they are competent.

"A house is clearly a very inferior habitation to a tent," Fanny Eden declared in her 1837 letter to a friend back in England after one of her hunting trips. She had learned what the Mughals have known for centuries and I couldn’t agree more. Returning from an early morning tiger hunt—full of life and sightings—I linger over breakfast, slip a few bananas to the girls and then, upholding tradition, I wander off to my tent for a rest. 

Here’s where Vanyavilas departs from tradition. I nap in comfort—air-conditioning humming. 

By Kate Crawford     March 2004

LINKS WITH ATTITUDE                           

Vanyavilas web site.