
I arrived at Ananda in the Himalayas not entirely sure what to expect. Set high above Rishikesh, the birthplace of Ayurveda and yoga, the retreat feels rooted in something ancient and powerful. The Ganges flows far below, the air feels clear and charged, and time moves differently here.
The property sits on the grounds of a former Maharaja’s palace, surrounded by forest and clouds that shift constantly. Morning yoga took place outdoors, where the smallest birds — the cutest little chirpers I’ve ever seen — flitted through the trees while monkeys played above us. It mirrored what my own mind felt like at first: jumping from one thought to another, until the stillness began to take over.
The weather in the foothills changed by the hour. Storms rolled in fast, washed through, and then opened into sunlight. I was IN the atmosphere. This entire environment invites you to slow down and notice.

My Ayurvedic doctor prescribed a blend of detox and rejuvenation therapies. After looking at my tongue and feeling my pulse, he described me perfectly — even noting that I was dehydrated, which a vitals test later confirmed.
Each day included three or four treatments: multiple four-handed Abhyanga massages that seemed to melt time, Shirodhara with warm oil streaming over my forehead (I fell asleep almost instantly), acupuncture, reflexology, a body mud mask (also fell asleep), and Emotional Healing through hypnotherapy that left me reeling.
Around day four, I developed a dull detox headache that passed by the next morning. After that, something shifted. My body felt lighter, my skin brighter, and my thoughts steadier. I slept like a baby every single night.

Meals at Ananda strike that rare balance between comfort and lightness. Twenty-five chefs oversee menus that change daily, blending Ayurvedic and Indian specialties with fresh, seasonal dishes that are balanced, flavorful, and deeply satisfying.
Midweek, I joined one of the chefs for a private tour of the herb garden. We tasted fresh mint, basil, and raw stevia leaves straight from the plant. They were incredibly sweet, almost shockingly so. Later in the trip, printed recipes of our favorite dishes appeared in our rooms to take home.

Guests come from all over the world — solo travelers, couples, repeat visitors who return year after year. I met a group of women who first met here six years ago and now reunite annually. Ananda attracts kind, thoughtful people who value connection & experience.
Everyone wears simple cotton kurtas, which keeps the focus off appearances. I had real, easy exchanges and felt like I made genuine connections. What stays with me most is how deeply the staff care. One evening, someone mentioned being cold at dinner. When we returned to our rooms, hot water bottles had been tucked into every bed. It’s a small thing, but it tells you everything about the spirit of the place.
As a mother of a four-year-old, I’m usually the one caring for others. Here, I felt completely cared for.
Each morning I meditated overlooking the valley. The combination of altitude, silence, and care made stillness come naturally.
By the end of my stay, I felt rested in a way I hadn’t in years. My body was lighter, my thoughts clearer, and there was an ease that stayed with me. I didn’t leave with grand insights, just a sense of balance — and a desire to bring more ritual and care into everyday life.
Ananda is not inexpensive, but compared to similar programs in the United States, it would cost three times as much. The luxury here isn’t about abundance or design; it’s about the precision of care. The doctor who checks in throughout your stay, the spa practitioners who perform a moving ceremony before each spa treatment, the chef who prints your favorite recipe before you leave.

When I think back on Ananda, I don’t see the views or the palace. I remember the people — the small gestures, the steady presence, the feeling of being cared for without asking. It’s the most restorative place I’ve ever been. I left rested, clear, and already planning who I’ll share it with next time.
