After several attempts to travel to India with a friend we finally made it happen in 2024. It was such a good feeling when flights were booked, and we had our Indian visas. It might sound strange to be nervous about traveling with someone you’ve known for years, but travel has a way of revealing things, good and bad. Would she like the experience I’d created? What sort of traveller was she? Would we still be laughing by Day 3?
Let’s just say, the nerves kicked in well before we even boarded the plane.
We arrived at the airport bright and early—too early, thanks to both our anxious pre-travel energy. She doesn’t love flying, and the airport was, as usual, a minefield of queues, loud announcements, and slow-moving lines. But once we passed through immigration and made it to the lounge, the only thing to do at 7:00 a.m. was raise a glass of champagne and toast the beginning of our adventure. There’s something about that first clink of glasses that shifts the mood from stressed to excited. We were really doing this!
Day 1 didn’t go quite as planned. Our flight was delayed, and we landed in Delhi very late. Bleary-eyed and tired, we stood near the arrivals hall scanning the sea of placards. Our driver—who was supposed to greet us—was nowhere to be seen. But I’d been to Delhi many times before, and this wasn’t my first airport hiccup. I took a deep breath, slid into negotiation mode, and managed to organize a taxi. Not ideal, but a good reminder that travel is all about adapting.
We arrived at our hotel—thankfully lovely, with a warm welcome waiting for us. All we could manage was a quick freshen-up and straight to bed.
Our third companion was supposed to meet us in Delhi, but a family emergency kept her back home. So there we were: just the two of us, in India for 12 days, about to discover not only the incredible sights, sounds, and tastes of Rajasthan and the Taj Mahal—but also what it meant to travel together.
Getting Into the Groove
The first few days were filled with polite figuring-each-other-out energy. I already had the itinerary planned—cooking class, markets to visit, block printing workshops, foundation experience, rooftop dinners, glamping, heritage hotels, and a whirlwind of colours in Jaipur’s bazaars. But I didn’t want to dominate the agenda, I didn’t want her to feel like she was on a tour and every hour was scheduled. I wanted her to feel like she could shape the experience too.
Turns out, I had nothing to worry about.
She was a curious traveller—open, observant, thoughtful, and never afraid to ask questions. She didn't just look at things—she engaged with them. Whether it was chatting to the artisans in the block printing workshop or negotiating with a tea trader in the market, discussing the clarity of a precious gem, she was in it. That curiosity made everything richer. She wasn’t there to tick things off a list—she was there to feel it all.
We learned quickly how to travel together. She liked to take her time in the morning so some mornings I would do my early morning walk on my own. So we compromised: she’d get up a little earlier, and I’d build in slower starts on alternating days. We both loved food—really loved food—so each meal became its own mini adventure. Street food in Jaipur, amazing dining experiences, traditional coffee houses and of G&Ts while the sun was setting.
We found our rhythm. One that was respectful, light, full of laughs and curiosity. We went to my suppliers and found beautiful fabrics and homewares to purchase, she had a great eye for colour and detail. We tried block printing and compared our messy first attempts with zero shame. We even learned the power of the shared silence—those moments in a long car ride where nothing needed to be said, and the landscape rolled by like a dream.
The Joy of the Unexpected
Of course, there were hiccups. A crazy driver that would not take us to the venue that we had booked to attend, my visa being constantly checked and rechecked, a cooking course that felt like a year 8 geography lesson and of course the constant curiosity of the locals.. The odd bout of "Delhi belly" tried to bring me down, but we’d laugh through the chaos, always ready with a plan B or at least a place to sit and wait it out.
One of my favourite moments was as we drove 4 hours from Jaipur to Agra, she talked the entire time to our driver. She covered the caste system, marriage, religion, pollution and of course cricket. Her curiosity gave her the ability to enjoy any moment around her and connect with everyone from a driver, market vendor, a small child or barman. All I had hoped for was for her to gain a greater understanding of this culture and a connection to the country and I think she did.
We ended the trip standing at the foot of the Taj Mahal at sunrise. Tired but glowing. We’d been through a lot in just under two weeks. And somehow, instead of feeling exhausted by each other, we felt connected in a new way. Traveling together had taken our friendship to a whole new level.
So We Did It Again
Fast forward to the next year—2025—and in May did it all again.
There was no nervous energy this time. No wondering if she’d like the trip or if our styles would mesh. We knew how to travel together now. We packed lighter. We laughed more. We already had “our spots” in Delhi and Jaipur. We added new adventures, but also left space for the simple joys: a sunset view, another rooftop G&T, a quiet moment watching the chaos of a street unfold below us.
Travel has a way of revealing people. It strips away the polished versions we show the world and replaces them with dusty feet, shared snacks, and raw honesty. I’m grateful for the laughter, the stories, and even the challenges. But most of all, I’m grateful to have discovered this new layer in our friendship—one that only travel could have uncovered.
Would I travel with her again? In a heartbeat!
Stayed tuned for our 2025 adventure!