Writer and editor Steve Slon recently toured India on an itinerary that included stopovers at some of its outstanding hotels, restaurants and attractions.

New Delhi, Day 1

Midnight at the airport. My wife Estelle and I are bewildered after a 12-hour flight, but the moment we step off the plane we are taken in hand by no less than three guides who collect our bags and move us efficiently through the crowds.

The place is teeming with people carrying parcels of all shapes, from suitcases to loose bundles to duct-taped cardboard boxes. Outside, on this hazy night in early March the air is warm, clingy. In the background, a faint acrid smell.

In the heart of New Delhi: In spite of the hour, dozens of sidewalk vendors are still plying their wares all along the major avenues. Small knots of men are standing around carts that sell tea or small plates of food. The famous, emaciated, sacred cows amble about freely, often taking up the whole lane or even lying down in it, as if they own the joint. Which, come to think of it, they do.

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We are to stay at a friend's apartment for the weekend before embarking on our travels. They live in a gated, guarded community. The building is shabby on the outside, as all but the newest, ultra posh residences seem to be, but lush within, decorated with luxurious tapestries and paintings of deities, the floors lined with elegant Persian carpets.

Our gracious hosts, Sudha and Dennis Gallagher have stayed up to greet us. We are shown to our room, then share a midnight glass of Indian wine, which is welcome more for the social occasion than for the quality of the beverage (India viticulture has a way to go). We go to bed and pass out and the next thing we know it's 5 AM.

First Class Indulgence: Skipping customs. While most tourists must fight their way through humongous snaking lines and the famously indifferent bureaucracy of Indian customs, as first class travelers with Greaves Travel we are met right outside the gangway of the airplane by a special escort who takes us to the desk of an unoccupied, you-might-almost-say friendly duanier.

New Delhi, Day 2

Sudha and Dennis feed us an Indian breakfast of coconut fritters, pancakes made of lentils, and homemade yoghurt. Instant coffee in a china tea pot with a tea cozy over it. Everything is fragrant or savory or spicy hot.

And if it isn't -- the coconut fritters, for example -- you dip it in a tangy mint sauce, and then it is. All this is cooked and served by their live-in maid. (House servants are common in India for the middle and upper classes, as are chauffeurs.)

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The weekend is shopping and more shopping, as Sudha and her driver squire us around to her favorite clothing and jewelry stores. It seems that shopping is a hobby, a lifestyle among well-heeled Indians. (I know what you're thinking: yes, it's the same in the U.S., but somehow the focus on shopping and talking about it seems more obsessive in India.)

Without intending to, we quickly get drawn in. By the time we leave, we have filled two extra suitcases -- big ones -- and shipped home a carpet.

First Class Indulgence: Lunch at the spectacular Imperial Hotel, the grand entrance of which is lined with 24 king palms. Inside, the walls are jammed with a collection of notable British art with an Indian theme. In the hallways, giant crystal chandeliers hover above gleaming marble floors, and huge mahogany tables are topped with exotic floral arrangements.

We dine at the 1911 Brasserie where the maitre d' sports an elaborate silk turban of crimson and safron, called a safa, which, untied is 30 meters long. The tail of the safa hangs down his back, below his knees. I order the most delicious lamb curry I have ever tasted, spicy but not too spicy, and wash it down with a Kingfisher beer.

New Delhi, Day 3

More shopping in the afternoon. I'm hooked.

First Class Indulgence: Before the shopping trip Estelle and I each get a fantastic 45-minute foot massage from Sudha's regular Sunday morning massage guy. This in-home service costs a pittance, about $12 each.

Agra and the Taj Mahal, Day 4

On the four hour ride to Agra (first class fare: about $15), we are served a constant stream of food -- breakfast cereal with bananas, coffee and tea, cakes, fritters and more. We are collected at the station by our new Agra-based guide and driver.

At the outer gates of the Taj Mahal, one is swarmed by vendors selling cheap souvenirs and beggars, some abject, others so deformed you can't bear to look. Next you are herded through a security check. Once inside, there is an outer courtyard, and then�there it is, glowing in the early morning light. You can't help but feel exalted. A tingle at the back of your neck. The overwhelming beauty, puts you, for a brief instant, out of time.

First Class Indulgence: Stay at the opulent five-star Oberoi Amarvilas hotel, adjacent to the famous monument. Ride to the Taj Mahal in a horse-drawn carriage adorned with flowers.

Drive to Jaipur, Day 5

Our guide and his driver collect us for the ride from Agra to Jaipur, a harrowing seven-hour trip to go a mere 180 miles along a primitive road that is clotted with traffic. A white-knuckle experience for Westerners accustomed to, oh, any semblance of the concept of rules of the road.

India is known to be a me-first country, but the routine pushing and shoving takes on a truly terrifying aspect when cars, trucks, busses and oxcarts are all jostling for position.

In the outskirts of Jaipur, at a stop light, beggar children run up to our car, tapping on the windows, cupping their hands and making eating gestures. One of the children, a girl of about 12, presses her face to the window and weeps.

I feel terrible, but, partly because we'd been advised not to give money to beggars (the money goes directly into the pockets of their adult handlers, so we were told), and partly because we're numb from the long terrifying drive, I hesitate. The light changes, and we lurch away.

In my mind, thanks to an admixture of guilt and compassion, I will always have an image of that little girl's face. (Later, we will begin carrying a box of energy bars and hand these out. Unlike in the US, a gift of food to a beggar is gratefully received in India.)

After a suicidal right turn across whizzing lanes of traffic, we're in the long driveway of the Rambaugh Palace, a lush refuge from the chaos of the Jaipur streets. Jaipur, a relatively small town in Rajasthan, has a population of 2.3 million. But the palace is an oasis of peace on 47 acres of perfectly manicured parkland and was once the residence of Marahaja Sawai Man Singh II.

Elegantly clad bellmen escort us from the car. It is beautiful and perfect and safe. But we are dazed from our long road trip. We mount the marble steps, noticing the beauty but not actually seeing much. We have 1000-yard stares. We want to check in and go to our rooms; where is registration please?

"Please take a seat for our welcoming ceremony," we are told by a beautiful young woman at the desk, as she points to a tufted couch in the grand foyer. Next thing, two hotel greeters, a man and a woman, approach. They drape garlands of orange marigolds around our necks and paste a ceremonial patch of red clay on our foreheads. They hand us glasses of a ruby red drink. Watermelon juice. Lovely, delicious.

Our room is a former palace chamber with dark mahogany floors, marble details, and a canopy bed strewn with rose petals. Our private balcony overlooks a garden graced with shrieking peacocks.

Mystery solved: Turns out there is no registration desk -- after being shown our room, our escort requests a business card so he can complete the registration process for us. Which is how it's done here. That fussy business of actually signing papers would be undignified.

First Class Indulgence: Attend a private elephant polo match in Jaipur. A tea follows, in which your group mingles with the players and their families. $3500. [www.artisansofleisure.com / 800-214-8144 Contact: Ashley Isaacs Ganz; Cost: $2,000]

Jaipur, Day 5

Our car, driver and guide are waiting outside. We are off to see the famous Amber Palace, built in 1036 AD by the Hindu Rajput dynasty. Its endurance has to do with its being situated high in a natural ring of hills, the Aravali mountain range.

In the parking lot an old withered man approaches and puts a small basket on the ground. We don't really notice until we are startled by a blaring sound, as he honks on a small pipe. A snake dutifully emerges from the basket. On the advice of our guide, I hand the man a 20 rupee note (about half a dollar) and flumpf goes the snake back in the box. Off trots the man in search of another tourist.

The Amber palace is stunningly beautiful, particularly for the intricate paintings of the deities on the walls. I'm particularly taken with Ganesh. One room is all gems and glass, creating an impression of endlessly shimmering jewelry.

Over the parapet, you look down at a lake where elephants cavort after a morning ferrying tourists up the hill to the palace, and a geometrically planned garden. In the distance, the plains. You can see why this place was so easily defended.

Afterward, it's lunch and then a visit to the Jaipur Astronomy Conservatory, and displaying the most extraordinary series of sundials. The largest ones are accurate within 20 seconds.

First Class Indulgence: Dine at the exquisite Suvarna Mahal restaurant, a former ballroom of the Rambaugh Palace. Liveried servers wear safas. Green marble columns rise to support 30-foot high ceilings with Florentine frescoes.

To Jodphur, Day 6

We fly to Jodphur, and are driven to the spectacular art deco Umaid Bhawan Palace, the 105 foot high dome of which can be seen from far away, rising above the plain like a sacred temple. Two stuffed tigers greet you at the main entrance. We are taken to our three-room suite, past a uniformed guard who salutes. Our rooms have a private balcony that overlooks the hand-tended palace gardens.

Later that evening, one of the young, liveried butlers offers a tour. We learn that the beloved Maharaja, whose son still resides here with his wife and their son, built the palace over a 14 year period starting in 1929 as a kind of public works project (those were hard years of drought and unemployment in India, too). The sandstone slabs were hand-chiseled and assembled, tongue and groove style, so that they fit together without cement.

First Class Indulgence: Have a cocktail in the trophy room at the Umaid Palace. This amazing chamber is stuffed with stuffed animals -- more tigers, two leopards, a bison head -- all prizes from the Maharaja's hunting expeditions. We learn that certain trophies, such elephant tusks, were removed when the palace was converted to a hotel for fear of offending Western sensibilities. But even this un-tusked version is outrageous, over the top.

Jodphur, Day 7

Marwar castle is built on the crest of a hill above Jodphur, and then rises 60 feet above that. At the entranceway, a clay mold of the small handprints of women who had chosen sati, the ritual suicide of the wives of a royal person upon his death. The handprints are so tiny, the size of a child's hands.

Our guide is at great pains to explain the historical context of the practice. He insists sati was never coerced. Rather it was a choice -- frequently to escape from cruel enslavement by a conquering warlord; or from a future of abject poverty.

The castle offers a dazzling view of Jodphur, and is loaded with the most exquisite artifacts, including ornately carved palanquins, famous miniature paintings in searingly rich color depicting scenes from Hindu lore, and much more.

At lunch, our guide extols the remarkable healing powers of opium, which he has procured in the past for tourists with upset stomachs. He opines that opium is good for the constitution as long as you don't consume it every day. Once a week is good. Or, he says, growing reflective, possibly twice a week.

First Class Indulgence: After exploring Jodhpur, hop on the Palace on Wheels train for luxurious travel through Rajasthan. The train cars are hotel-like private rooms, and the train includes a full bar, two dining cars, and butler service. From Jodhpur, the train journeys to Ranthambhor National Park, a wildlife sanctuary touted as the best place in India to see tigers. Double occupancy October-March, $2695.00 per person for the full seven day trip.

Mumbai, Day 8

Here's an inside tip, it's not "Mumbai" to most residents, but still "Bombay." The name change was pushed through by the right-wing Hindu nationalist party Shiv Sena in 1995, but modernists -- and in all of India, this melting pot city is the place for modernity -- prefer the old city name.

Our hotel, the Taj, famous for being the first luxury hotel to open its doors to non-whites, is split in two. One side is 100 years old and features a grand, seven story tower with a stairway running around it that would have given Hitchcock a little shiver. A good one, I mean. Adjoining it is a new gleaming modern box. They're connected at the base, with all kinds of neat shops, ranging from supertrendy clothing stores to high end jewelry stores.

We're situated on the butler floor, in the old wing. Food is served by butlers in navy blazers, bowties, charcoal slacks and wearing white gloves. It seems they are trained to open every verbal exchange with "Thank you very much, sir." At dinner, you drop your handkerchief and they swoop to pick it up. "Thank you very much, sir."

After dinner, I take a short walk alone around the famous India Gate, which is a giant marble arch, just across from the hotel. It's jammed with people, even late in the evening. This is a big tourist spot for Indians as well as foreigners. And a mecca for hustlers, vendors and beggars.

As a foreigner, I seem to be a magnet for attention. A robed man walks toward me holding out something in his hand. I swerve to avoid him. He had been offering to drop a sweet into my hand, I realize, and now he is offended that I had presumed he was a beggar: "Holy man!" he says irritably.

Back in the hotel, all is serene. A very neatly dressed young woman stands by the elevator. So you shouldn't have to labor, she pushes the elevator button for you. Smiles.

First class indulgence: Have the Taj Hotel rent a private boat to take you from India Gate to Elephanta Island. Includes a gourmet picnic prepared by one of the four restaurants at the Taj Hotel. The Island, about an hour's ride from Bombay, is known for its cave temples with Shiva sculptures dating from the 5th century AD.

Bombay, Day 9

We launch the most incredible tour of the whole trip, guided by the incomparable Rashida Anees. She is not part the standard tour service, but was recommended by a friend who sang her praises. Spending the day with her is like being taken around by an old friend. In fact, within minutes, it feels as if we've known each other for years.

She takes us places that are quite off the usual tour grid: We spend the morning mingling with Koli fisher folk, watching them buy, sell, clean and auction the day's catch; next it's off to the bustling Crawford Market, where we chat with her favorite vendors; later we visit a Hindu temple for a prayer service. Lunch is at her private club. The day ends with tea at her elegant apartment. When we leave, she seems genuinely embarrassed to accept her fee.

First Class Indulgence: Take a temporary membership at the Cricket Club of India. Watch a game of cricket and enjoy a meal in this famous club with an ambiance of the colonial period (www.cricketclubofindia.org; $40 for a week's membership).

Kerala, Days 10-12

We will continue through the south, into Kerala, the famous spice port, and down to Kovalum at the southern tip of the continent. Kerala, aside from its spice plantations and latticework of canals, is the birthplace of ayurvedic medicine. In the interest of research into ayurvedic body techniques, Estelle and I allow ourselves to be massaged within an inch of our lives at several rustic spas.

First Class Indulgence: Charter an overnight or multiday houseboat cruise through Kerala's backwaters, a series of beautiful lakes, canals, and rivers abutting the Arabian Sea. [www.artisansofleisure.com / 800-214-8144 Contact: Ashley Isaacs Ganz; Cost: $600 per night]

Ananda, Days 13-16

Our travels end with a trip back north to Ananda, a modern, very luxe ayurvedic spa built alongside the maharaja's palace, 3000 feet above sea level in the Himalayan foot hills above the sacred Ganges river. The spa is ranked as high as number one in the lists of the world's leading spas. Outside your room, spectacular views of the treetops and the valley below. Not to mention, monkeys.

One wanders about dressed in the white pajamas everyone is issued, taking yoga classes every morning at 7:30, eating gourmet Euro-style cooking, attending lectures about Vedanta, and just sitting around thinking or writing. The focal point of each day is the massage that the Ayurvedic doctor has prescribed. I particularly recommend the four-hand massage, performed, as one might guess, by two masseuses at once. One simply melts.

At the end of the visit, one resolves to be more spiritual; to continue yoga; to read deeper in Vedanta; to appreciate art and poetry; and to take a stand to keep stress out of one's life when one returns to the States.

My actions, following our trip, fall far short of that ideal. But, the visit to this strange, exotic country, so rooted in ancient tradition, so eager to embrace the new, has affected me like nothing else in the world.

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