~story by Belinda Meggitt~ To see more photos, click here.

My bags bounced around me in the car as we bumped along the rural road. About 20 minutes later after leaving the main highway, I landed in the lap of Vedic Village’s luxury. I’d just survived a near collision with a rickshaw wallah bearing bamboo poles, so the warm welcome at the front door with a fresh lime soda was exactly what the doctor ordered. Thankfully there were also several doctors waiting for me at spa, just in case the collision did happen.

This property isn’t a hospital, however. It’s the creation of Raj K Modi, a passionate health advocate and, after seeing the resort, one would have to say entrepreneur. His concept—combining luxury escape and rural lifestyle—is radical, but stepping outside the box is what makes him successful. His vision, according to CEO Michael Robinson, was so forward-thinking that his initial investors actually withdrew. But now, The Vedic Group will expand the facility from its 150-acres organic farm to 1,200-acres, which will include 600 acres for new IT developments—apparently the backers are convinced. More photos available here.

Five-star service made of bamboo and mud

Like all components of the resort, each feature has been carefully designed for five-star ambience, without compromising the village ideal. Pointing to the expansive bamboo roofs that add light and texture to the main buildings, Mr Robinson explained that designers found it very challenging to create the property from natural materials as monsoon rains fall heavily in these parts every year. To meet the challenge, they turned to treated Assam bamboo, backed it with metal scaffolding and combined with thatch roofing. The result are well-fortified buildings that can withstand the region’s intense weather, but still fit in comfortably within the environment of the resort.

Local artisans were inspired by traditional Bengali architecture and used natural materials as the cornerstones for their design. Inside, feature decorations include chairs and tables made by local artisans that combine mud, copper, brass, wood and other natural products. There are also traditional terracotta sculptures showcasing Bengali culture and even white terracotta wall carvings that explain the story of Durga Puja and other folk stories of Bengal.

The main building contains a small block of suites and studios—perfect for the city dweller that escaped from the village and never wants to return. Despite the name city comforts are bountiful: a bar, restaurant, lotus-shaped pool and Jacuzzi and sauna await guests, while the library and games room could entertain the kids. Yet for those seeking isolation and tranquillity, bungalows and earth villas are subtly positioned around a small lake surrounded by rainforest, only minutes from the main block – you won’t be getting your feet muddy in this village.

The ambience of the resort is akin to Pleasantville: everyone is smiling and the staff always greet you with a pleasant word. Kolkata’s baseline traffic hum is replaced with the occasional putter of a golf cart—movement around the smoothly paved resort roads is simple and easy. Potentially the most radical component of the resort are the familiarly coined ‘hobit homes’, named as such due to their sloping grass-rooves. This feature is designed to minimise heat Island effect: a rise in ground temperature of between one to six degrees celsius in urban areas. Rows of these identical homes, internally decorated with modern furnishings and equipped with a roof top pool, are available for purchase and can then be rented out to resort guests.

The Spa

The focus of the resort is its luxurious medical spa, a first for its combination of Ayurveda and Western Naturopathy under the one roof.

Four trained doctors—two Ayurvedic and two trained in traditional medicine and naturopathy—guide your experience. After meeting the medical staff I was taken for a live blood analysis. A simple pin-prick and one drop of blood later, I was seeing my blood on the computer screen against the healthy blood sample and wondering where I could sign up far an intensive treatment. I didn’t have to explain that I had digestive problems — my blood said it all.

The doctors at Vedic like all alternative medicine practitioners predominantly treat individuals who have failed to be healed by our pill-popping culture. In a society that seeks quick fixes, alternative medicine is not the answer, but perhaps it is the solution. As a physiotherapist and nutritionist I resonated well with the advice of the well-trained practitioners at Vedic. Change is the only solution.

Change of environment is one thing. By stepping into the resort the doctors claim you will get a reduction of your symptoms by 30% — I don’t doubt it. But environmental stress is only one factor, the real changes that these doctors advocate is lifestyle and nutritional alterations that are essential to long-term healing. A short detox package or pampering session will make you feel rejuvenated, but if you’re serious about healthy living, come to Vedic with an open mind and a desire to change.

Ayurveda

Being familiar with Naturopathy I was interested to know a little about Ayurveda—was there more to this traditional medicine than scraping your tongue in the morning and rinsing your nose with salt water? What I discovered was a rich cultural history that surrounds the practice. Dr Pradyumna and wife Dr Sabitha are originally from Kerala, the home of Ayuveda described to me the rich tradition.

Dating back over 5,000 years, it claims to be the mother of all medicines basing its diagnoses on imbalances between the mind and body. Unlike western medicine that classifies the mind in the domain of psychiatrists, Ayurvedic doctors are trained to deal intimately with all systems. The example I was given was that of addressing the mind, the goal is to take a mind stuck in a state of anxiety or depression and return in to balance. This concept is central to all treatment and it is through the resumption of balance that we find healing.

In need of balance, Dr Pradyumna left me in the hands or one of his 20 trained staff in panchancharma. Through awkward broken English and non-verbal communication I was informed I had to strip down naked and be draped with a see through loincloth. Wasn’t I coming here for balance and not increased anxiety? Despite my fears, the two women guided me onto the 300-year-old wooden plinth where they initially massaged me and then scrubbed me down with hot medicated oils, before pouring a consistent flow of oil across my forehead for about ten-minutes. By this point I felt as though I was baby wrapped a cocoon of comfort. Had I regained balance? Perhaps I had been transported into a temporary state of bliss, but I think balance takes a lot longer to regain.

Dining Options

Two dining options are available:
Yagna: provides buffet style and ala-cart dining offering a range of tasty Indian options and pseudo Western meals. Chef specials are available daily and definitely worth trying. For those individuals on detox packages or just wanting a healthy option, meals are available from the spa, but need to be ordered in advance if you are planning to eat at the restaurant.

Bhoomi: offers Traditional Bengali fine dining in a rustic mud hut. Displays of terracotta carvings decorate the simple intimate dining space. An earthen smell awakens your senses in preparation for the fresh unique tastes of this Bengali cuisine, quite unlike any Bengali food I have tried before.

Complimentary buffet breakfast is provided with a standard room package offering a selection of fresh fruits, cereals, breads, south-Indian fare and eggs any-style. Cold drinks and tea or coffee are also included, but bring your own coffee or prepare for detox if you don’t classify Nescafe as coffee.

Room service is available, although unless privacy is your desire, this service isn’t recommended. Service is impeccable, but food served in the restaurant is far fresher and tastier.

Bar:
Agnee: a relaxing bar overlooking the lotus pool serves delectable cocktails, beer, wine and a vast selection of spirits and liquors. Yes, alcohol and cigarettes are available even in a spa resort.

Getting there and away

Situated just outside the heart of the city, Vedic Village is a 40-minute drive from Kolkata city or just 20 minutes from the airport. Transfers can be arranged from the airport and can include a tour of the city upon request.

For further details:
Vedic Village Kolkata Office
1/1B Upper Wood Street, Kolkata 700017, India
Phone : +91 33 2280 2071/7552, Fax : +91 33 2247 1311
www.thevedicvillage.com
For reservation call: +91 98300 25900 or +91 98308 20445.
E-mail: info [AT] thevedicvillage.com

After many delays, interruptions, disagreements and a fence, the train ride between Kolkata and Dhaka will begin running again on 14 April.

The ride will no doubt become one of the great journeys you can take connecting the two countries, one that we will definitely be taking in the coming months.

From India’s Business Standard magazine:

Maitree Express to be flagged off from Kolkata to Dhaka on April 14.

After nearly half a century, passenger trains will start plying between India and Bangladesh again. Train services, which had stopped because of the 1965 Indo-Pak war when Bangladesh was still a part of Pakistan, are all set to resume again.

Please let us know if you do end up riding the train and telling us how it went!

People with sensitive stomachs need not be worried while travelling India’s most well-touristed trail, says Mikey Leung

It was in a Pizza Hut, well within viewing distance of the Taj Mahal’s towers, that I finally caved in. A Britney song droned overhead, cheapening the far-too-familiar atmosphere. Tonight we would dine on Pasta Arabiata, a cuisine fit only for the modern Mughal aristocrat—i.e. the India tourist. Across the table sat my upbeat father, for we had just seen the Taj Mahal a few hours earlier. Despite that wonderful moment when I first gazed upon the Taj’s towers, I finally gave up on being an explorer in India—the way I am in Bangladesh each and every day.

Watch the video:

It was day six on our India tour, and fairly indicative of how the trip was going. With an iron stomach and an anthropologist’s curiosity, I felt rather at odds with our culinary choices that evening. We were, after all, visiting a heartland of Northern Indian cuisine. But really, I should have known better when I noticed that my father couldn’t say the words curry and diarrhea in separate sentences. And thus, our trip had become a colossal battle of the traveller’s tolerance vs. the tourist’s tummy, and I was now waving my Pizza Hut napkin in defeat. Meanwhile, my father, whose naturally downturned lips make him appear to wear a kind of permanent frown, was hidden behind his menu, no doubt choosing gaily between fusilli and spaghetti.

Our lightning tour was filled with gastronomically preventive pitstops like these. Every year, millions of visitors, especially those from other Asian countries, now race around India’s Golden Triangle track. A typical trip covers India’s most impressive architectural masterpieces while buzzing through its countryside at something near warp nine. Despite these sites being awash in monsoonal torrents of foreign tourists, the Mughal Kingdom’s lavish tastes still manage to exude their graceful charms several hundred years later, like being at an ancient airy banquet hall with room for wealthy guests from all over the world. The extravagant riches that the kingdom amassed from its subordinate neighbours far surpasses most other measures of conspicuous consumption that can be contemplated in Asia. Apparently, displaying your wealth was as popular then as it is today in modern India. But today, it is the tourists who (dis)grace the private audience halls of the former Mughal court.

Every month, thousands now stream through Delhi’s old city to stand under the Jain Mosque’s imposing and inspiring facade. Dozens wait under the Amber Fort gates every morning in Jaipur for an elephant ride to its lofty sandstone terraces. And over at Agra’s Taj Mahal, millions of yearly arrivals journey to admire the jewel in India’s crown, a site that still remains as timeless and impressive 250 years after Shah Jahan’s original vision became reality. Thankfully, that breathless moment when one first gazes upon the Taj can’t be outclassed by bazillion other visitors you must now share the experience with.

But it’s precisely that market that brings out the least savory parts of the India experience. For those unversed with the subcontinent’s cultural nuances, the stench and the rot on its streets hits you like a punch in the face. No doubt that tourists have plenty to frown at, as the ‘real’ India lies splayed out on its streets, distinctly unpackaged and definitely unruly. On their well-heeled trail follows a circus of touts, guides, beggars and salesmen, each trying to hustle some honey from the masses. In each city of the triangle, a franchised fraternity of pizzas, pastas and Pepsi offer slices of home.

In retrospect, I’d been far too idealistic of my father’s perspective, hoping that he would enjoy the subcontinent’s unpredictable nature as I do in Bangladesh. I’d thought the trip adventurous, deluding myself that he, the 60-year-old straight-laced electrical engineer, would somehow enjoy nearly slipping on cow dung and sidling through India’s oceans of humanity. I attempted to shield him from the chaos by booking a fully arranged tour, with hotels whose rack rates quote dollars instead of rupees. In the end, we learned more about each other’s nature than we did from the India that surrounded us.

Mikey Leung is a freelance journalist and photographer. He is currently researching a new Bradt guidebook to the subcontinent’s hidden gem: Bangladesh.