Grand hotel

A reverie in marble

Author: By Indira A.R. Lakshmanan, Globe Staff

Date: SUNDAY, December 27, 1998

Page: M1

Section: Travel

Years later, a stay at the Lake Palace Hotel, a former royal playground in India's northwestern state of Rajasthan (literally, Land of the Kings), surpassed any childhood fantasies of luxury and beauty. A two-night stay stretched to three . . . and then four. Believe me, if I had unlimited resources and no job, I'd still be happily ensconced there today.

In my two years traveling around Asia, the Lake Palace reigns as one of the most incredible places I've been. From the moment one arrives by boat from the mainland, the visitor experiences history not as a tourist ordered to gaze from behind velvet ropes but as an honored guest invited to live for a spell as the maharajas once did. It is a rare place where one can travel back in time and experience a monument in its original form, rather than as a museum open from 9 to 5.

The Lake Palace is a reverie in pure white marble -- a confection of delicate columns, filagreed screens, cupolas and fountains -- that seems to float like a giant wedding cake in the center of Lake Pichola. It was built 250 years ago when Maharana Jagat Singh II wanted a place to frolic with the ladies of his court. His father frowned on Jagat Singh II's moonlit picnics on his island playground, admonishing his son, ``Build your own palace.''

And so he did, dispatching artisans of Rajasthan to create on four acres what has been called ``a sonnet in stone,'' a mirage rising from one of the rare fertile plains in the arid desert region of Rajasthan.

Two centuries later in 1959 -- two years after India won its independence from Britain and Maharana Bhagwat Singh joined his principality to the new state of Rajasthan -- the latter-day ruler decided to turn the palace into a hotel, trusting it would lure tourists and money to his former kingdom.

First, the inlaid stained glass and frescoed walls had to be restored to their former glory, and the maharana's and maharanis' rooms were converted into luxury suites.

Famous vistors have included Queen Elizabeth II, Jacqueline Kennedy, and Vivien Leigh. As the hotel's fame grew, it was chosen as an exotic backdrop in the James Bond movie ``Octopussy.''

The 19th-century British historian and traveler, Colonel James Tod, described the palace as ``nothing but marble . . . columns, baths, reservoirs, fountains, all are of this material, often inlaid with mosaics, and the uniformity pleasingly diversified by the light passing through glass of every hue. . . . Parterres of flowers, orange and lemon groves intervene. . . . Detached, collonaded refectories are placed on the water's edge for the chiefs, and extensive baths for their use. Here they listened to the tale of the bard, and slept off their noonday opiate amidst the cool breezes of the lake, wafting delicious odours from myriads of lotus flowers.''

My noontime lethargy was brought on by an Indian buffet lunch rather than opium, but it was still heavenly to nap it off with the aid of those same lake breezes and the perfume of lotus flowers rising from an enclosed pond surrounded by umbrella-topped tables. There are no palace bards today, but there are nightly performances of music, dance, and, my favorite, puppet shows of heroes and horses in rainbow-hued silks reenacting Rajasthani legends.

India is one of the world's most fascinating countries, overflowing with art and history and a lively, raucous democracy. But it is also burdened with heartbreaking, visceral poverty. Separated as it is from the mainland, the Lake Palace is one of the few places the traveler can, perhaps selfishly, escape the noises and smells of a teeming nation. The contrast makes it seem all the more one of the most restful places on earth.

The interiors of the standard rooms are unexciting, but they give the traveler a chance to experience the hotel at a less expensive (albeit still steep) price. The small suites have sitting rooms or balconies, and the deluxe and historical suites are out of this world. I stayed in the Sandhya (``Evening'') Suite, a medley of green, blue, and yellow paintings, quilts, and rugs with a decadent marble bathroom. The best part was a triple-arched, stained-glass window seat at water level, where I watched the red ball of the sun plunge into the lake every night.

Another beauty was the Khush Mahal Suite, with its multicolored, filigreed stained-glass windows that cast a dazzling pattern on a black-and-white checkerboard marble floor. With its diffused light and low, cushioned furniture, the room has an exotic, Arabian Nights feel. A whimsical wooden and brass swing hangs from the center of the room.

The Sajjan Niwas, the former personal quarters of the maharana, is the most elaborate suite, replete with heavily-carved Victorian furniture and priceless carpets. It has a private courtyard with a pavilioned terrace and views of the lake and mountains. Best of all, the walls are inlaid with intricate designs in Belgian glass and painted with elaborate floral designs.

There are countless lovely palaces and forts to see within a day's drive of the Lake Palace, but I could hardly be bothered to leave the hotel. With the intimacy of its secluded porticos and its discreet service, the hotel must be one of the most romantic places in the world. A testament to the magic of the place is that I was there alone -- and I didn't care one bit.

Indian Airlines flies daily to Udaipur from New Delhi and Bombay. Standard double rooms cost $210 a night; lake-facing doubles are $245; suites run from $325 to $550. For more information, call 91-294-527-961 or fax 91-294-527-974.