Sariska National Park Travel Guide: Best Time, Safari Tips & What We Saw

Not a very long time ago, I was pretty stubborn to view the tiger in its full glory, where it roams wild and free, where it doesn't have to rely on human to be fed, where just his one roar is enough to make every living being turn their heads. With an unsuccessful track record of not spotting a tiger in any of my previous endeavors, to Jim Corbett National Park and Ranthambore National Park, I was pretty keen to give it another try.

Sariska Tiger Reserve, situated in Alwar district of Rajasthan is well connected via road to Delhi and is just 3 hours drive away, approximately 200 kms. Stretched over an area of 881 sq km, this area was a hunting preserve of Alwar until it was declared a Tiger Reserve in 1955 and as of Oct 2018, it hosts 18 tigers including 5 cubs.

McLeod Ganj Travel Guide: Monasteries, Momos & Our Family Adventure in the Himalayas

I’m usually a “beach bum” kind of traveler. Give me sun-soaked sand, a hammock, and a fruity drink with a straw—and I’m happy. But this time, I swapped flip-flops for trekking shoes and headed to the hills. Destination? McLeod Ganj, Dharamshala—famously called Little Lhasa thanks to its Tibetan charm, fluttering prayer flags, Bhagsu Nag Waterfall, Triund Trek, and monks who (spoiler alert) might just have fancier smartphones than you.

This was a family trip—my wife, my kid, and me—and I was determined to make it a memorable one (read: not get yelled at for bad planning).

The Journey: Bollywood, Blankets & Bhai

We hopped on the Himachal Pradesh Tourism Volvo from Delhi—arguably the safest, comfiest way to reach McLeod Ganj. The bus was filled with young backpackers radiating “Mountains Calling” vibes.

Within 30 minutes, my son was snuggled under his blanket, fast asleep. My wife, as usual, had done all the packing (because if it were left to me, we’d just have three T-shirts and zero toothbrushes).

The bus staff put on a Bhai's (Salman Khan) Bollywood blockbuster. We watched it half-heartedly until our dinner halt at Haveli, Karnal—paranthas, chai, and a chance to stretch our legs. Then it was lights out… or at least, attempts to sleep in a moving bus while trying to ignore every honk.

After a long, bumpy night, we rolled into McLeod Ganj at 5 a.m. sharp. It was drizzling, jackets were out, and so were the taxi-walas shouting, “Sir, taxi? Kahan jaoge sir?”