From Pushkar we headed towards Bikaner, with the intent to break up the long rides and go half-way to Nagaur one day, then to Bikaner the next. So we booked the only hotel that was listed in Nagaur and off we went. At least so we thought.

Riding in India is fun. Challenging fun, but fun nonetheless.

The roads were decent, surrounded by semi-desert alternating with irrigated farmland. A camel cart passed us by with musicians playing music. We stopped occasionally to stretch, drink, think for the hundredth time ‘I cannot believe I am riding a motorcycle in Rajasthan!,’ and smile at the locals who seem to be attracted to us wherever we stop. An impossibly beautiful young couple turned back after riding past, asking whether they can take a photo with us. We were just as chuffed to have a selfie with them as they were about taking one with us.

The further away from Delhi we get, the more common it becomes for locals to ask for a photo with us. An old man came and asked where we are going, then desperately tried to explain that Bikaner is not the way we are heading. Unable to remember the name of our half-way stop, I just showed him the navigator, saying we are all right, heading to the hotel we booked that is somewhere there on the map, we are fine. Should’ve listened to the old man.

A camel cart with musicians
The most gorgeous couple in Rajasthan.

Late afternoon we arrived at the booked hotel. Massive resort in the middle of nowhere, with the staff looking slightly shellshocked to see us, ushering us to the parking area, summoning the manager, lining up a whole welcoming committee, a blessing ceremony with red turmeric dot smeared on our forehead, rice thrown over our head, the lot. Otherwise, five star luxury that would stand any western scrutiny. Only few months old, the resort was built to host weddings with hundreds of guests, and it appeared completely empty at our arrival. When we settled for our sumptuous lunch, the memory of the old man on the road started to bug me and I looked at the map to see where we were. It was Kuchaman, a town 115 kms away from Nagaur, in a completely different direction. Turns out, the booking site indicated the hotel location in the wrong spot and the hotel tried to call to warn us, but we were on the road already. So we ended up in the right hotel, just not in the right town.   

Ss any seasoned traveler will tell you, sometimes the best adventures are the ones you don’t plan. After indulging in a sumptuous lunch at the resort (empty save for us), we discovered Kuchaman’s hidden treasure: a fort, perched dramatically on a clifftop. Getting there was half the adventure, as the road was blocked by works, which involved thick mud, the usual cows, the less usual pigs, and traffic pushing both ways on half a lane. Of course, it had to be on the one day we did not take the GoPro and the road was so shocking that we forgot to stop and take photos. The navigator took us on some tiny lanes that ended in a locked gate, from where we were eventually rescued by a local who led us to the fort entrance. A minor heat-stroke and a steep climb later, we had our private little tour of a gem perched on a clifftop. The Kuchaman Fort is breathtaking, exuding light, and life, and refined style. The dining building, the dance yard, the living quarters, mirrored and ornate boudoirs, plunge and swimming pools… we imagined distant laughter and the fun that had lived among the painted walls.

Kuchaman Fort

The fort is being renovated and, apparently, turned into a hotel, to be restored and preserved as close to its original as possible. Although it counts only as a ‘minor fort’ in Rajasthan, it was more beautiful as the others we’ve seen so far, perhaps precisely because it was not a lifeless museum. Discovering Kuchaman was the best unintended destination we could have had. The town roads and lanes testing our riding abilities without trying to kill us, the resort pampering us with comfort, amazing food, and attentive service, and the fort filling our hearts and minds with beauty.

In the end, getting lost brought us exactly where we needed to be: pampered at a luxury resort, dazzled by an off-the-map fort, and reminded that the best parts of travel are often the detours.