Anvaya

I’m arriving to Anvaya, a six-key hotel at the southern reaches of Delhi, near the Asola-Bhatti Wildlife Sanctuary, looking — and feeling — slightly worse for wear. I'm coming from a four-day wedding in the city, and I'm developing a headache with every car horn and near-miss with a road-roving cow. 

For me today, it’s about the destination, not the journey. And I’m not sure what’s the warmest welcome at Anvaya: the midday Delhi sunshine, the bright yellow curves of its lodgings or the smiley team that greets me, led by assistant manager Srinath. All three, paired with a seasonal lavender spritz on arrival, seem to be the magical antidote to my carsickness (OK, hangover). 

Revived, I'm led towards the saffron-hued, Guggenheim-esque building, which houses every room, each named for a tree. My mouth is already agape, and it opens wider as Srinath shows me into Banyan, a vast, split-level suite with limewashed walls, floor-to-ceiling picture window and two skylights, one crowning the huge bath tub and overhead shower.  

With every glimpse of yellow, memories of marigold petals and turmeric paste from the wedding’s haldi ritual return — colour has taken on new meaning now, and Anvaya is just the place to get my daily dose of vibrancy. Lilac bouquets of dahlias and gladioli contrast the mustard backdrop, as does purple bougainvillea by the lemon-sunlounger-dotted pool terrace. 

I assumed that Anvaya would be somewhere I'd burn through my book, but it’s like a live-action nature documentary from every corner. Butterflies flit and peacocks strut, but the main topic of Attenborough-style narration that’s running through my head is the monkeys — playing, sleeping, climbing and jumping.  

As the late-afternoon sun melts into a soft-pink sunset, I sit on the lawn for a gin and tonic aperitif, laced with saffron and frozen-petal ice cubes — Anvaya in a glass. The service here is extremely attentive — staff are always subtly hovering just in case — and at dinner, the menu is extensive, mixing Indian with international (chef Maxime hails from France). I try the Thai crispy rice salad and pan-grilled Kerala fish with raw-mango curry. Both are moreish and I wipe my plate clean, although there’s still room for the desserts the team wants me to try — a decadent chocolate mousse and mini fruit tart.  

Early the next morning, my monkey co-residents noisily scrap on Banyan’s roof, but the novelty of waking up to actual jungle sounds instead of my alarm clock's imitation outweighs any possible upset. Similarly, the skylights don't have curtains, but glimpsing stars before I drift off and waking up with the sun feels like an apt way to reset my circadian rhythm and fully give over to nature. But if you’re a light sleeper, there’s nothing some good ear plugs and an eye mask can’t solve. 

An eagerness for me to sample more dishes continues at breakfast. After I’ve polished off a buttery croissant with raspberry jam, fresh orange juice, a cappuccino and a granola-topped smoothie bowl, Srinath presents a plate of poha, a traditional rice-based dish. It’s simple but good (spoiler: I order it again the next day). 

Srinath refers to many things at Anvaya as ‘auspicious’ and coincidentally, I'm here over the Holi festival, a lunar eclipse and my birthday. Anvaya is a fitting place to celebrate all three, especially Holi: the Hindu holiday marks spring’s arrival, welcoming in light and goodness. It’s typically spent with family, and ‘Anvaya’ — derived from the Sanskrit for lineage — is owned by a mother-son duo. As Srinath and the rest of the team present a beautiful, fragrant display with pigmented powders, orange petals and traditional treats, I hear distant drums from streetside celebrations.  

Given the date, most temples are understandably closed. I also don’t feel well today — thanks to a weak immune system and four days of partying — so it begins to feel like some higher power is suggesting I stay put. It’s hard not to see the positive side of things when you’re around this much yellow. A day spent in my cool-and-calming suite or monkey-watching by the pool? Ordained by the universe, I say. 

But by the afternoon, I revive enough to visit the Qutb Minar, a 13th-century Unesco World Heritage Site with an intricately adorned minaret; and Dhan Mill for window-shopping in ornate boutiques — both worthy of a stop. I spot several chalk-coloured celebrants in the street on the drive back to the peaceful bubble of Anvaya. 

At dinner, I seek comfort and order one of the Neapolitan-style pizzas; it’s delicious and any guilt of not eating something local vanishes swiftly. I sleep deeply despite the full-moon light, and wake to good and bad realisations: it’s my birthday, but I'm also checking out.

As I settle for my final poolside breakfast, the whole Anvaya team sweetly wishes me a happy birthday, armed with a card, candle-topped cake, bunch of flowers and macarons from its sister French bakery. This final act of thoughtfulness makes it even harder to say goodbye shortly afterwards, and as my taxi drives away from everyone waving me off, I clutch a little tighter around my bouquet — its purple petals and bright yellow pistils a reminder of Anvaya’s warmth and colour that I’m not quite ready to let go of.