Day 3 began at Hotel Surya Villas, Jaisalmer, and for once, life decided to be kind to us—no chaos, no confusion, no drama. Just a calm, fresh desert morning where the air felt lighter, and the silence felt comforting. It was the kind of morning where you wake up slowly, stretch a little longer, and smile without knowing why. We got ready at our own pace, fully aware that today we would be leaving the Golden City behind and heading toward our next destination—Jodhpur.
A Slow Morning, Chai Conversations & Punjabi Dil
The hotel’s location was a blessing in itself—right opposite Vyas Chhatris, offering a scenic view even before breakfast. Around 8:30 AM, we went up to the terrace, slightly hungry but mostly excited. The staff politely informed us, “Abhi breakfast mein thoda time lagega.”
Without missing a beat, we asked the most important travel question ever—“Chai toh mil sakti hai?” ☕
Within minutes, all five of us were seated around a table, the first sip of hot chai instantly waking up our souls. We requested something simple—bread toast—and the staff didn’t just agree, they delivered it with warmth. Soon, a generous pile of toast, butter, and jam sat between us, and suddenly, the wait for breakfast didn’t feel like a wait at all.
As we were enjoying this peaceful moment, one of the servers casually asked, “Parantha chalega? Chef available hai.”
Now, being Punjabis, this wasn’t even a decision—it was destiny. With a loud and confident “Haanji!”, we welcomed aloo parathas loaded with butter, curd, pickle, and piping‑hot tea. Since we were the only guests on the terrace, every staff member seemed personally invested in making sure nothing was lacking. Extra butter? Already there. More tea? Before we even asked.
For a moment, it genuinely felt like we were being served like royals. And honestly—jokes aside—the food and service were nothing short of amazing.
Chhatris, Photo Plans & a Sudden Reality Check
With full stomachs and cheerful hearts, we decided to walk a few steps and take pictures near the Vyas Chhatris, thinking it would be a perfect farewell frame from Jaisalmer. At the entrance, we were told the ticket price—₹100 per person. Five people, five hundred rupees, just for photos. That didn’t sit well with our very practical travel brains.
We tried negotiating—“Ek ka ticket le lete hain, baaki thoda door se photo le lenge.” But the guard firmly refused and then casually said something that stopped us mid‑sentence:
“Madam, mare hue logon ki samadhi ke saath photo hi kyun leni hai?”
That single line changed everything.
That’s when we truly understood what Chhatris are—not just beautiful architectural structures, but memorials. Places built to honour the dead, often marking cremation sites of royals, queens, and nobles.
Suddenly, the excitement of taking photos faded. The place felt heavier, quieter, more meaningful. Without another word, we stepped back, silently packed our bags, and prepared to bid goodbye to Jaisalmer—with respect in our hearts.
The Drive to Jodhpur & Confidence That Didn’t Last Long
With memories of the Golden City lingering in our minds, we began our 4–5 hour drive toward Jodhpur. The journey was relaxed, filled with casual conversations, music, and that comfortable silence that only comes after good food and shared experiences. We were calm—after all, our stay at Kothi Heritage was already confirmed.
Or so we thought.
Once we reached Jodhpur, Mr Yaad, our official trip planner and hotel‑booking hero, went inside to confirm the check‑in while we stayed back, admiring the property. The hotel looked stunning—a heritage house converted into a hotel. A grand entrance with guards on both sides, white‑washed walls glowing softly, lush green plants, and flowering climbers everywhere. It felt elegant, peaceful, and welcoming.
Soon, we were invited into the lounge—decorated with royal portraits, ancient utensils, and colourful glass windows. A perfect blend of history and comfort. Soft music played in the background, juice was served, and for a moment, everything felt right.
When Drama Quietly Walked In
Then came the sentence no traveller wants to hear:
“Sir, sirf ek hi room confirm hua hai.”
Only one room. Not three. Not enough for five people.
What followed was a slow spiral—confusion, waiting, phone calls, repeated explanations. We had confirmations from Goibibo, but the hotel had received only one. To make matters worse, the hotel was completely booked. Goibibo offered refunds for the remaining rooms, but refunds don’t help when you’re standing in a city with nowhere to stay.
An hour passed. Smiles faded. Excitement turned into silent stress. The fear of running around the city at night for rooms crept in.
When Kindness Changes Everything
Just when we were mentally preparing for the worst, the hotel owner called Yaad inside. What happened next restored our faith in people.
He apologised sincerely and said something we’ll never forget. As the owner of this hotel, he didn’t want us to leave Rajasthan with a bad memory. To make things right, he:
- Offered a complimentary dinner for all five of us
- Personally called another hotel nearby
- Arranged rooms for us
- Handed over his card for a smooth check‑in
He even instructed his kitchen staff:
“Aaj yeh paanch log hamare guest of honour hain. Best service deni hai. Ek paisa nahi lena.”
That moment erased an hour of stress in seconds. Gratitude replaced anxiety. Smiles returned. Rajasthan had redeemed itself beautifully.
A New Stay & Fresh Energy
We checked into Hotel Shri Ram Empire, just 400 metres away, and within minutes, we had three spacious rooms on the same floor at ₹2500 per room. Big rooms, comfortable beds, street views—everything we needed.
After a one‑hour nap, we felt human again. Refreshed, recharged, and ready to explore Jodhpur.
Mandore Garden: Blessings, Beauty & Unexpected Laughter
Our first stop was Mandore Garden. At the entrance, a wedding ceremony was taking place inside a temple. Curious, we stood watching quietly—until we were suddenly surrounded by women asking for money and showering us with blessings:
“Aapki jodi bani rahe… sundar sa balak ho…”
Some even called us celebrity names—Aishwarya!—leaving us laughing and confused at the same time. To escape gracefully, we declared ourselves happily married and claimed we were searching for a bride for our bachelor friend Harsh. That instantly shifted their focus.
As we walked closer to the structures, the details began to reveal themselves. The cone-shaped memorial temples were intricately carved, hollow from inside, and carried a sacred stillness. The carvings were so fine and delicate that we instinctively slowed our steps. Shoes had to be removed before entering, and that simple act made the experience feel even more intimate—as if we weren’t just visitors, but quiet participants in history.
Behind one of the main temples, we discovered an entire row of smaller shrines, aligned neatly with a stone pathway in front. We explored each one slowly, touching the carvings, tracing the patterns with our fingers, feeling the cool stone under our palms. Something was grounding about that moment—no rush, no noise, just us and centuries-old craftsmanship standing firm against time.
If you love architecture, history, or simply places that make you pause and breathe, Mandore Garden doesn’t just impress you—it holds you. We spent nearly two hours there without realising how time had passed. As dusk began to settle, the sky slowly dimmed, lights started appearing, and we wrapped up the visit with sugarcane juice and Cornetto cones in hand—simple pleasures after a deeply enriching walk.
Reluctantly, but content, we clicked a few last pictures and headed out, carrying with us not just photos, but a quiet admiration for a place that speaks softly yet leaves a lasting impression.
Clock Tower, Markets & Local Love
Next came Clock Tower, Sardar Market. Climbing its narrow stairs, we met the man whose family has been maintaining the clock for generations. Listening to his story and dedication felt humbling.
Outside, the market exploded with colour and life. We watched lac bangles being made, explored Lalji Handicrafts—a treasure trove of textiles, leather goods, jewellery, pottery, spices, and kitchen essentials—and shopped without realising how time flew.
We ended our food trail at Shri Mishrilal, indulging in makhan lassi, kachori, rabri, and jalebi—each bite louder than the crowd itself.
The Legendary DJ Tuk‑Tuk Ride
Finding an auto back felt like another test, but when we finally got one, it turned into magic. Fully decorated, lights glowing—it felt like a moving DJ platform. When the driver heard we were from Punjab, Sidhu Moosewala started playing on full volume.
Five of us inside, traffic chaos outside, music syncing with turns—it felt unreal. We laughed till our stomachs hurt.
A Royal Dinner & Ice‑Cream Madness
At 9 PM, we reached Kothi Heritage for our much‑awaited dinner invite. We were escorted inside respectfully, almost ceremoniously, and guided through the property. Candle‑lit tables glowed softly, roses rested gently in glass vases, and folk music floated in from a nearby rooftop. The rooftop view itself felt unreal—warm lights, hushed conversations, and a calmness that wrapped around us after the long, dramatic day.
We ate slowly, intentionally, as if we didn’t want the moment to end. Conversations flowed without effort, laughter came easily, and between bites, we kept exchanging looks that silently said, “After everything today… this feels perfect.”
When the staff politely asked about dessert—“Meetha lenge?”—everyone unanimously said no. Plates were cleared, gratitude was expressed, and we thanked the manager again, requesting him to convey our heartfelt thanks to the owner for such generosity. We were then escorted all the way to the exit, still smiling, still soaking in the warmth of the experience.
The moment we stepped out of the gate, Rupi casually said, “Mujhe rasmalai khani hai.”
We all froze.
The same Rupi who had politely said no when dessert was offered.
Before we could even process that, my husband added, “Mujhe gulab jamun chahiye.”
We looked at both of them in disbelief—Are you serious right now?
Free dinner, royal treatment, sweets offered at the table—and now cravings?
Laughing, arguing, and teasing, we walked towards the main road, determined to hunt for a sweet shop. But it was already late. Every shop was shut, lights off, shutters down—except one lonely corner stall selling only ice-cream.
So ice-cream it was.
We ordered cups for everyone, and that’s when the shopkeeper casually said the total. Something felt off. Being the calculator of the group, I immediately pointed out, “Bhaiya, bill thoda kam nahi hai?”
He looked again, smiled, and said, “Haan madam, aap sahi keh rahe ho.”
Before I could even realise what I had done, the other four were staring at me—confused, betrayed, mildly angry.
Grabbed my ice cream.
Ran straight into the hotel reception.
And burst out laughing—completely uncontrollable.
One by one, the rest followed, laughing even harder after seeing me. We stood there eating ice cream, laughing like kids who had just pulled off a crime, while the receptionist and a few guests looked at us like we had completely lost our minds.
Only then did we realise—we were creating a scene.
Trying (and failing) to control our laughter, we rushed upstairs, opened one room, and laughed even harder—no words, no reason, just pure exhaustion and joy spilling out.
We finally separated into our rooms, still smiling, still shaking our heads, knowing this day—with all its drama, kindness, chaos, and laughter—had quietly turned into one of those memories that stay forever.
What happens when excitement meets exhaustion, history meets chaos, and a city tests both patience and presence?
Day 4 in Jodhpur answered all of that—through forts, palaces, food, and moments that stayed long after the day ended.
The next chapter begins there.