Rishikesh has slowly become my go-to place—a place where I let loose and introspect. My tryst with the spiritual city in Uttarakhand began in 2019. I was a little over 23, inquisitive enough to learn about the world through experiences and journeys.

My first sojourn here taught me about independence. Something I was eager to learn. Living in a city has its own pros and cons. And when you live with your parents, you are always protected. You neither have to prepare your meals nor worry about buying groceries. Life feels almost picture-perfect. But one fine day, something in you shifts. You begin to challenge yourself. You decide to step outside that familiar territory and take the leap of faith. Rishikesh was that leap for me.

In hindsight, that trip changed the way I envisioned life. My evening walks by the ghats taught me about reflection. I would sit there for hours, enchanted by the waves passing by quietly, reminding me to stay in the moment. Those few hours at the riverside taught me to pause. The lesson stays even today. Whenever life gets overwhelming, I close my eyes and rewire.

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My interactions with strangers helped me shed my inhibitions and approach life with an open mind. I learnt to move past the preconceived notions and experience life firsthand. For the first time, I was on my own, without my parents around, learning the ways of the world.

It took just one trip to change that about myself. So, pack your bags and go solo. No matter how intimidating it may seem, don’t wait. Because travel, as a way of life, is so much more than itineraries and places. And Rishikesh taught me that— not once, but thrice.

In 2024, I was back here on another solo trip—confident, smart, and alert (or so I’d like to believe). By now, I was a seasoned traveller. Someone who could survive in any place and explore without a plan. This time I had no checklist with me. I was only looking for a cosy riverside cafe where I could work in peace. And guess where I landed? Freedom Cafe, which became my breakfast-cum-workplace for the next few days. I spent hours there working and socialising while squeezing in my touristy ventures.

Every morning, I ordered a masala omelette with freshly baked bread, boiled beans and sautéed broccoli. The server got so used to my schedule that he knew exactly when I wanted a glass of watermelon cooler. Sometimes, fellow diners would join me, and conversations would flow naturally, mixing intellect and fun.

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By evening, I would pack my laptop and rush to the tiny kiosk selling the classic vanilla softie. The kind you would find at Nirula’s in childhood. Later, I would stroll around, take snaps and gaze at the old-fashioned street lights beaming over the cafe-dotted lanes. Locals had begun to recognise me. We would smile at each other without a word and carry on. This ease of just being myself is what makes me go there again and again.

So, this August, when a friend expressed a desire to go to Rishikesh, I couldn’t say no. After all, who wouldn’t love to go back to their favourite place? The one that always feels familiar, safe, and homely. But this time, journeying meant co-travelling, and I was excited to don the hat of a guide, given my earlier tours here.

She was visiting Rishikesh for the first time, so I had to make her feel comfortable. We divided responsibilities. She booked the bus, and I locked our stay.

Unlike in the past, this time I had made a tentative itinerary comprising the best cafes and some lesser-known attractions. I wanted her to see Rishikesh beyond the bohemian buzz, like a local.

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The trip

Our journey began with a few unnerving moments. The ride to Anand Vihar ISBT turned frightening when 3-4 bikers suddenly surrounded our moving auto. It was a quarter to midnight, and the stretch leading to the bus stop was eerily quiet, save for the occasional honk. Thankfully, the moment passed. Our auto driver overtook the bikers and safely dropped us at the bus stop.

The overnight bus journey was peaceful. By about 5.30 am, we were awake and ready to hop into a shared auto to Rishikesh from Nepali Farm, the last stop for private buses. An hour later, we reached Joey’s Hostel, crossing the brand-new Bajrang Setu, built adjacent to Lakshman Jhula, which has been permanently closed.

Every time I visited Rishikesh, I had to cross the Lakshman Jhula, which spans the sacred Ganges. I dreaded walking on this narrow bridge, seemingly weighed down by pedestrians and two-wheelers. With each step, I would chant ‘Om Namah Shivaya ’, almost as if reminding God to help me make it to the other side safely. This time, I was overjoyed to see the bridge closed. “Finally, someone is thinking about pedestrians’ safety,” I quipped.

The Ganges

Of course, the sight left my friend disappointed. She was particularly excited to walk across the iconic 137-metre iron suspension bridge built in the 20th century. A local then pointed towards the glass-floor suspension bridge next to the Setu, which draws tourists for its visual appeal. Within minutes, our cameras were out too. A quick selfie, one classic pose, and a wide-angle panoramic shot—we captured every view from the temples to the ghats surrounding the bridge.

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The joy of sitting at cafes and ghats is what I had envisioned for our trip, and that’s how we began. Imagine waking up to views of the Ganges and stepping into a cute cafe next to your hostel serving fresh bakes and brews. This was our routine here. Every morning, we ordered our favourite latte and rushed to the same spot on an elevated balcony with the most ethereal view of the Ganges, where we chatted for hours. And the best part? The occasional chirping of birds, almost therapeutic.

A wide variety of food

Masala omelette and Dajeeling Momos

Besides being cost-effective, the drinks and delicacies here are rich in flavours. From a buckwheat pancake and mushroom platter to a frothy matcha shake, there is no shortage of promising tastes. Milk, no milk, sugar, without sugar— the locals know how to keep a non-native dish true to its origin.

There is English breakfast, Mediterranean Shakshuka, and Italian pasta for those with an exotic palate. But if you are a desi like me, there is no dearth of Indian options either. You can try Rajasthani litti chokha at a roadside cart or savour a bowl of piping hot sambar vada at the newly opened South Indian cafe. But if I were to pick a favourite, it has to be ‘Darjeeling Momos.’

Located on the other side of Laxman Jhula, this compact shop is always buzzing with tourists, who happily queue up for a plate of freshly prepared momos. Behind the counter is a cheerful trio of siblings, working as one unit. The elder brother patiently kneads the dough, while his sisters meticulously shape the dumplings and prepare two types of chutneys for the next batch of customers.

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What we saw

We zeroed in on places to comfortably explore on foot, including the Beatles Ashram. Unfortunately, the ashram was under renovation, so our tentative itinerary was pared down to lesser-known places like Secret Waterfall and Bhootnath temple, both located a few kilometres from Lakshman Jhula.

Our adventure began at Bhootnath temple, which we reached after climbing 120 steps. The temple looks scenic, with its sanctum sanctorum perched atop. Reaching there feels like a small feat. Once you reach the top, wait there, pause for a while and soak in the view. There’s nothing quite as gratifying as that view from up there.

Another few kilometres from the temple is the Secret Waterfall, which will leave you mesmerised with its beauty. The landscape here is steeped in mist, rain and sun, and the view gets even better if you ascend further. If you like, you can bathe under the fall, or simply dip your feet in the water to feel at ease. Now pair that up with a tempting bowl of quintessential ‘Pahado Wali Maggie’ from the dhaba nearby to elevate your experience.

On our way back, we halted in Upper Tapovan, where quaint shops and quirky cafes bring out the more artsy side of Rishikesh. It’s also the perfect spot to pick knick-knacks ranging from brass jewellery and silverware to crocheted apparel. I liked it so much that I have already promised myself to stay here on my next visit.

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“Still, I feel the other side of Laxman Jhula is the real Rishikesh,” my friend interjected, as we debated which side was better.

Bhoothnath Temple

As the sun began to set, we headed to the ghat at Parmarth Niketan for the evening aarti, where we watched gurukul scholars move traditional lanterns in a choreographed display. But our spree didn’t stop there.

We hoarded a few more pairs of local earrings and souvenirs before finally heading back to our hostel, where an exciting night awaited. Our common living area turned into a makeshift party hall with travellers dancing their hearts out. Strangers jammed like long-lost friends to ‘Jumma Chumma,’ sharing handwritten notes about how our presence made their trip extra ‘special’.

After all, what is a trip without a spicy story to tell the grandkids? “One last song,” I requested. The DJ called it a night with a Pahadi banger before we bade goodbye.