India's ancient magic
Three travellers fall in love with a country of colour, contrast and breathtaking cities
The Camp in the sky
Charlie Brocket is beguiled by a new and astonishing hotel in highest Nepal

When my wife and I received an invitation to go trekking in Nepal, we feared we would find a constant stream of Europeans damaging our spiritual experience. Fortunately, Jamshyd changed all this. He's a man driven by a deep love for his people and the Indian Himalayas, Having attended the Asian equivalent of Eton and travelled the world, he has warned high praise for his attention to detail and unusual approach to showing India to the world. He wants visitors to experience the true rural India, calling it a project of 'nature and humility', and this was what we found.

Landing at Delhi, we were whisked onto the Shakti magic carped and transported in great comfort to the Imperial Hotel, still one of the great colonial hotels that set standards even today. After a memorable breakfast, we visited some of our old shopping haunts before taking the Ranikhet Express sleeper to Kathgodam, the end of the line. In the old days, you got a private suite that was a full carriage width, but today, it's somewhat more basic. A winding drive through the Himalayan foothills took us to Almora, a former British hill station, where the pace of life is not so much laid back as horizontal. The Gurkhas ruled this area for 25 years, and, when the British eventually overcame them, we were so impressed we incorporated them into our army. The Gurkhas have been staunch allies ever since, which surely defines respect.

After breakfast, we set off with our guide, Arjun, on the Kumaon village walks along the Kasar Devi Ridge. Following narrow paths through forests to the terraces of Uttarakhand, we passed women working the fields and children staring at us with their big dark eyes.

Mynash birds chattered as dusk fell and we entered Deora. Our house was about 300 years old, and the loom the only concession to the modern world, has caused mayhem in the village. The owners were asked by Shakti to install it, and when the vital role of water was pointed out, everyone queued up to see it. Our landlord acquired almost god-like status.
As the cool air descended, laughter drifted up from the cooking-fires, sprinkled like fire-flies around  the valley as if some force had inverted the cosmos. Neighbours gathered around our fire, and with the help of sigh language and our guide, we talked about their way of life. They speak a mixture of Hindi and Nepalsese called Kumaoni, and despite their contentment, the question 'How does tradition adapt to the march of education?' hung in the air. How long can this culture survive?
The next day, we set off for Alai, passing cows that answered only to their owners. The terraces were planted with wheat, as well as marijunana, which provides gifts for the holy men and seeds for the women to chew-they also make a weight-loss paste when crushed.
As we climbed higher, pine trees proliferated, planted to replace the native oak by the British for the railways. The deep roots have dried out the soil and caused Landslips, but the pine resin, gathered in half-litre cones strapped to the trunks, are sold for one rupee each to be made into turpentine. We pass houses with mud floors painted with Kalpen art to celebrate Diwali and weddings. We woke the next day to the sound of temple bells before a five-hour drive to reach the remote rea that leads to 360˚ Leti.
At the end of the road, a gaggle of teenage ladies calmly tossed our heavy cases onto their backs and set off up the mountain track at a trot. I had every faith that they would arrive ahead of us. After a two hour walk, we wete confronted by the awe-inspiring sight of the APanchuli, a 2000lile-long range of Himalayan peaks, all more than 20,000ft high, Set on a small plateau at 8,000ft, 360˚ Leti is unique. Only four cabins built out of dry stone walls with floor-to-ceiling windows perch there, and everything is eco-friendly, including the solar-powered, piping-hot water.

Everything is to the highest standard, from the mohair blankets to the bathrooms, and the food, by Tibetan chef yeshi, is exquisite.

The staff seem to second-guess all our needs, and, after a hearty breakfast, we set off up the slopes with Arjun and a local lad. Everywhere, rhododendron trees bathe the mountains in bright pink, and provide the local cordial drink that's so good for the heart. After some five hours, the camp lookout had spotted our descent and was on parade in his immaculate uniform with a tray of fresh lemonade. After a hot shower, we gathered around the open fire for an aperitif before sampling Yeshi's creations. Afterwards, we talked and played some backgammon before picking up our lanterns to find our cabins. But it's not every day that you find yourself in total silence at 8.000ft being watched by the Panchuli under such a brilliant celestial panoply. Bed was somehow too mundane.

As the staff lined up to say farewell, we realised this was not a 'holiday'. Like Alice in Wonderland, we had peeped through a magic door and caught a glimpse of a world above our own. 360˚Leti's real treat is Mother Nature's gift of silence and awe.

Travel Information

Kumaon Village Walks (0091 11 4173 4788; www.shaktihimalaya.com) is open from October 1 to April 30 and cost $350 per person per night, inclusive of porterage, guiding, accommodation, meals and drinks

A three-night stay at 360˚ Leti costs $536 per person per night including porterage, guiding, meals, drinks and transfers

India's gift of life
India's contrasts and colour form perfect family holiday, says Mark Hedges

It was improbable moment for a holiday highlight. We were queuing, apparently endlessly, for an elephant ride to the Amber Fort in Jaipur. It was hot. The children wandered off to get some shade under a thorn tree. Worse, I could see that they had been noticed by some even smaller children, begging. They approached Harry, our eldest, and asked for money. He had none. Five minutes later, I looked back to see Harry and the two little Indian boys in rags sitting on the grass laughing. Then they started to play cricket together with a water bottle for a bat and a ball hastily made out of screwed-up newspaper bound with elastic bands. They played until we had to call Harry to get on the elephant. They all shook hands, smiled again and departed. They may never see each other again, but the Indian children and made such an impression on Harry that he calls it the best bit of the holiday. The English public school boy and the Indians had made friends as only children can, and laughed at how different their lives were. That, in part, was why we went on a family holiday to India.

After luxurious holidays in Europe, Africa and Australia, I was worried that we were getting cocooned in comfort. I wanted our children to realise how lucky they were and experience a totally new culture. India was a triumphant choice. Nowhere can compete for the assault on the senses. Nowhere has such riches rubbing shoulders with such poverty. In terms of religion, India is the world's only millionaire, yet each belief somehow coexists in each other's shadow. The architectural splendours dwarf much of what Europe has to offer, and the people, so spectacularly dressed, work with an Endeavour and a smile that beguiled us all.
We flew to Delhi, then drove to Agra. The flights are forgotten, but the drives never will be. driving in India is a thrill a minute, chaotic dance. Everyone uses their horn. For everything. The rate of honking depends on the likelihood of the impending crash.

"Nowhere can compete with India for the assault on the senses. Nowhere has such riches rubbing shoulders with such poverty'

Although driving is on the left, expect the unexpected: a cow, a camel or someone coming straight at you on the wrong side of a dual carriageway. Beyond the motoring drama, you get to see the real India, the vivid colours, the peasants farming, the poverty, and the frantic recycling to eke out a living.
We stayed in the sublime Lake Place Hotel in Udaipur. Reached by boat, it's a marble gem with impeccable staff and delightful subtleties. We ate delicately spiced samosas, delicious curries and sticky sweets.