Around two hundred years ago, Ran Baas Patiala was the ladies’ guest house of the Maharaja, occupying a wing of what was once Asia’s largest royal residence, the Qila Mubarak. And only four years ago, it was in ruins, infested with rats and snakes and uninhabited for the past six decades.
Enter ‘hotel revolutionary’ Priya Paul, who, along with conservation architect Abha Narain Lambah, has dragged the once-endangered building out of disrepair with a gargantuan, visionary restoration project. Only open since January, the heritage hotel is already one of India’s most sought-after stays, hosting Bollywood actors and prominent Indian designers. Now, Ran Baas The Palace is primed to welcome international travellers through its gates. I checked in and experienced a masterclass in heritage restoration – and a joyful celebration of Punjabi culture and heritage. These are my highlights.
First impressions: A very royal welcome
A labyrinthine street bazaar makes up the immediate surroundings of the Qila Mubarak fortress. The palace’s walls loom above jewellery shops and hardware stores; some hotel terraces protrude over the shopfronts. Yet once you’re through the huge wooden gates and have crossed the threshold into the central courtyard, all that external clamour is extinguished, replaced by soothing sitar music that plays in an everlasting loop in all outdoor areas (consider it the soundtrack to your stay). I’m told, later on, that the palace’s walls are designed to absorb noise, so you’re always in this vacuum of quiet, despite being just a few feet away from the cacophony of honking rickshaws and market sellers.
But first, an exuberant welcome, with dhol drums and Punjabi dancing, followed by a welcome cocktail at sleek hotel bar The Patiala. It’s here I get my first proper glimpse of Paul and Lambah’s modern overhauls – Rajput arches, painted charcoal-black, frame the main bar; we work our way through a menu of specialty cocktails on plush pink armchairs under a tassled pink chandelier. It’s gloriously indulgent and very, very easy to lose track of time.
The rooms: Palatial suites, each its own treasure
No two suites are the same at Ran Baas the Palace – their differing sizes and features, at one time, would depend on the status of the person living there – but each is extraordinary. On the upper end, there’s the hexagonal Presidential Suite, white and royal blue with a large private terrace, and the Princess Suite, adorned from floor to ceiling with over 200 hand-painted murals in the style of Mughal miniatures.
Rooms are themed around a royal gemstone, each with accents of topaz, pearl, coral or sapphire, a nod to the former occupants’ vast jewel collection. I stayed in one of the Pearl Suites, a dizzyingly spacious cream-hued room of marble floors and ornate archways, complete with a freestanding tub and a mat for meditation. The suite was one of a handful surrounding a serene courtyard garden (with a resident bunny rabbit, of course); others might overlook the market or the central courtyard, or – most enviably of all – the stuccowork facade of the main palace and darbar hall, one of the most outstanding examples of Sikh architecture you can find.
The rest: Outstandingly preserved heritage and the best of Punjabi hospitality
On its own, Ran Baas is a cultural treasure trove. Take the Rang Mahal, with its mirrored Belgian glass ceilings, gilded arches and delicately crafted frescoes. Used for private dinners at night, during the day guests are free to visit and pore over the artworks covering its walls, some dating back 600 years.
The Lassi Khana spa, formerly the royal kitchen, has a Mediterranean-style pool courtyard with one of the hotel’s most arresting views: the fortress’s weathered, garlic-shaped dome peering out over blush-pink walls spilling with bougainvillea.
Much of the hotel’s charm is in this playful harmony between heritage preservation, thoughtful restoration and contemporary, sometimes avant-garde, design. Alongside preserved artworks in halls and bedrooms, hand-painted de Gournay wallpaper is splashed across the staircase hall, while whimsical handblown chandeliers from local design studio Klove hang from above. Contrast these modern updates with the many skilful touch-ups of the palace’s existing architecture – the slightly faded, surkhi-plastered entranceway, for example, or the suite’s chinikhanas repurposed as alcoves – and you have a masterclass in honouring legacy with thoughtful reinvention.
Guest experiences range from history tours and tandoor barbecues to cooking classes and sunset afternoon tea, accompanied by live classical music. Traditional thalis, with flavour-packed curries and rich dhals from eight different princely states, are served up in light-filled, equestrian-inspired restaurant Neel (don’t miss the sage green and gold private dining room). Breakfast is a similar feast of Punjabi classics, and there are your benedicts and muesli bowls, for a milder start to the day. The people who keep this vast complex running, led by gregarious General Manager Deep Mohan Singh, are as warm and attentive as you’ll find.
The hotel, of course, forms only part of the entire Qila Mubarak fortress. The floral facade of the dilapidated Qila Androon, another of the complex’s buildings, is astonishing; head inside and you’ll find further mirrored halls and miniature frescoes, and an eternally-burning sacred flame. Inside the darbar hall is a prized collection of chariots, vintage cars, magnificent cutglass chandeliers and (sadly bubble-wrapped) life-sized royal portraits.
Regrettably, much of this impressive heritage is neglected and closed to the public. Given over to restoration, Ran Baas is proof of what could become of India’s forsaken palaces. Let’s hope its opening heralds a new era for the wider Qila Mubarak complex.
Time Out’s stay was courtesy of THE Park Hotels and Ran BAAS The Palace