6 Sustainable Hotels In Remote Indian Locations To Book In 2025
When it comes to choosing hotels in 2025, going off-grid is officially in. From a rainforest retreat near Kaziranga to a restored heritage home in Ladakh, these six off-grid, sustainable hotels in India offer conscious luxury without compromising on comfort. Think oceanfront villas in Sindhudurg, jungle lodges in Kabini, and eco-chic tents in Jaisalmer-all built to tread lightly. Whether you're snorkelling in the Andamans or sipping butter tea in the Himalayas, each property blends local charm with planet-friendly practices. If you're looking to go far while doing good, these stays deliver luxe escapes with a light footprint-no Wi-Fi required (but totally worth it).
1. Coco Shambhala Sindhudurg, Maharashtra
Tucked away on Maharashtra's lesser-known Konkan coast, Coco Shambhala Sindhudurg is all about barefoot luxury with a light touch. The four open-air villas are perched above a secluded beach, designed with reclaimed teak and laterite stone to blend with the landscape. Solar power covers most of the energy needs, and rainwater harvesting is standard practice.
Local sourcing is at the heart of the culinary experience — think prawn balchao, homegrown kokum, and craft spirits from small-batch Goan distilleries. It's not just sustainable; it's a proper coastal indulgence without the usual tourist traps. The best part? The in-villa spa treatments and infinity pools are as guilt-free as they are gorgeous.
Where: Bhogwe, Sindhudurg, Maharashtra
Getting There: Fly to Goa (about 2 hours by road), or the closer Chipi Airport (20 mins)
2. Diphlu River Lodge, Assam
Located right on the edge of Kaziranga National Park-home to the world's largest population of one-horned rhinos — Diphlu River Lodge is your go-to for low-impact wildlife tourism. The stilted cottages are made using bamboo and thatch, inspired by traditional Mishing tribal homes.
Run by Assam Bengal Navigation, the lodge uses solar power, avoids single-use plastics, and works directly with local communities for staffing and sourcing. Safaris are small-group and led by expert naturalists trained in ethical wildlife viewing. You might not have phone signal, but you'll have views of elephants wading in the Diphlu River from your private deck.
Where: Near Kaziranga National Park, Assam
Getting There: Fly to Jorhat or Guwahati, followed by a 3-5 hour drive
3. SUJAN The Serai, Rajasthan
A member of Relais & Chateaux, The Serai is what happens when luxury and sustainability share the same GPS coordinates. Located on a 100-acre private estate in the Thar Desert, this tented camp is solar-powered, waste-conscious, and supports multiple conservation initiatives through the SUJAN Life Foundation.
The hotel partners with local artisans for textiles and furnishings and has banned plastic bottles on-site. The tents themselves are more "safari-chic penthouse" than "glamping": Think plunge pools, copper bathtubs and curated Rajasthani antiques. It's low-impact living-done extremely well.
Where: Bherwa, near Jaisalmer, Rajasthan
Getting There: Fly to Jaisalmer (or Jodhpur, then 5-hour drive)
4. Barefoot at Havelock, Andaman & Nicobar Islands
This eco-resort on Havelock Island (now known as Swaraj Dweep) has been walking the talk since long before sustainability was cool. Nestled within a patch of preserved rainforest and just a short stroll from Radhanagar Beach, Barefoot at Havelock is built using indigenous materials like cane, wood, and palm leaves.
There's no air conditioning in most cottages-cross-ventilation and fan cooling keep things fresh. Activities include snorkelling, kayaking, and diving, all run by PADI-certified instructors trained in reef conservation. This isn't a party island stay. It's about disconnecting with purpose, where Wi-Fi is dodgy but the stars more than make up for it.
Where: Havelock Island, Andaman & Nicobar Islands
Getting There: Fly to Port Blair, then ferry (2-3 hours)
5. Evolve Back Kabini, Karnataka
Previously known as Orange County, Evolve Back Kabini sits on the banks of the Kabini River, close to Nagarhole National Park. Its design borrows heavily from local tribal Hadis (villages), while modern luxuries include plunge pools and lakeside decks.
The brand is big on green operations — organic waste is composted, water is reused via a sewage treatment plant, and over 90% of the staff are locals. There's also an in-house naturalist team that leads guided walks and boat safaris, focusing on low-impact wildlife encounters. Bonus points for being plastic-free and committed to local employment.
Where: Kabini, Karnataka
Getting There: Fly to Mysuru (2 hours by road) or Bengaluru (5 hours)
6. Nimmu House, Ladakh
Set in the quiet village of Nimmu, 45 minutes from Leh, Nimmu House is a 100-year-old traditional Ladakhi home turned boutique eco-retreat. Surrounded by apricot orchards and snow-capped peaks, it's about as off-the-beaten-path as it gets.
The restoration has stayed true to Ladakhi architectural techniques — using sun-dried mud bricks, poplar wood and stone. Solar panels provide hot water, and all waste is sorted and composted. With just seven guest rooms and glamping tents in summer, the vibe is slow, quiet and beautifully disconnected. The kitchen serves mostly organic, vegetarian meals sourced from the garden or nearby farms. Morning yoga, hiking trails and heritage walks with local guides round off the experience.
Where: Nimmu, near Leh, Ladakh
Getting There: Fly to Leh, then 45 minutes by road
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
India.com
4 hours ago
- India.com
Exploring Udaipur: 24 Hours Without A Map – A Journey Of Surprises!
Udaipur is known as the 'City of Lakes' or the 'Venice of the East' due to its rich nature, history and culture. This city is located in the center of Rajasthan and it is filled with stunning lakes, palatial buildings, crowded markets, and narrow roads. But let's imagine for a second what would happen if one were to explore Udaipur without a map for even a single day. Would you be able to navigate through the maze that is Udaipur ? Luckily, the answer is in the city's uncanny ability to place amazing experiences right at your disposal, even when you don't know where you are. Morning: A Serendipitous Start In Udaipur, the early sparkle of the sunrise dances lightly on Lake Pichola. Temples with bells ringing and aroma of chai in the air beckon you like music tucked under the sheets. With it being a little challenging to navigate through Udaipur, taking an accidental stroll leads you to the Jagdish Temple, a notable site that features an idol of Lord Vishnu and is an architectural marvel in its own right. You're captivated by the architecture and sculptures surrounding it and the peaceful atmosphere allows you to admire the temple in its full glory. Upon venturing deeper, you will notice the distinct change of rhythm in the old part of the city. Its narrow roads are full of shops that sell textiles, traditional Rajasthani jewelry pieces, and various souvenirs. Since you do not have a map, you will depend on your hunches alongside the ever-helpful locals that could effortlessly guide you to your destinations. You order pyaaz kachori and mirchi vada along with a glass of steaming masala chai for breakfast in one of the tiny eateries which offer a glimpse into traditional Rajasthani cuisine. Afternoon: Immersed in The Wonders of History As the sun shines on higher, you come across the beautiful City Palace. Even without any form of navigation, you would clearly be able to spot this structure. While wandering around the palace grounds, you examine the mix of Mughal and Rajasthani architecture. The palace is decorated with courtyards, balconies, and museums that depict the extravagant lifestyle of the Maharanas of Mewar. Without needing a guide, I headed out of the palace and took a walk along Pichola Lake. The breeze combined with the sparkling water was refreshing from the hot sun. After strolling, you will find the Gangaur Ghat, which is known for breathtaking views of the lake and hills along with activities that locals and tourists engage in. Instead of renting a boat, I decided to sit on the edge of the Ghat to relax and watch the view. Evening: An Unforgettable Boat Ride Towards the evening, I decided to take a boat ride myself. While I was initially guide-less, the ride was more than worth it. The magnificent 'Lake Palace' that now serves as a luxury hotel appeared to float in the middle of the Pichola Lake. With the setting sun bathing the water in gold, my imagination ran wild. It was as if I was transported into a fairytale land. After reaching back to land, you are led through a captivating journey and find even more hidden gems in Bagore Ki Haveli. Udaipur's rich heritage is exhibited exquisitely in this museum housed in an ancient royal villa. After this, make your way to the Dharohar Cultural Show, where traditional music and dance from Rajasthan will captivate and enrich your knowledge of history even more! A Whole New World Opening Up No map? No problem! Get ready to breathe in the incredible smell of Indian cuisine and keep your eyes peeled for hints of the traditional spices. Head to the skyline, enfolding yourself in lively rooms filled with lightning and colors while overlooking Lake Pichola. Dive into some traditional dishes like dal baati churma, gatte ki sabzi, and the iconic laal maas. Each platter offers a fresh and exciting flavor you're bound to remember for days on end. Sometimes losing your way can lead to the best and most unforgettable experiences, regardless of the outcome. As you walk the serene streets with the calming glow of the moon shining bright, be sure to pay a visit to Ambrai Ghat. The magic of Udaipur combined with fresh candle-lit waters creates the perfect end of a long day full of exploration. Conclusion: Reasons to Love Losing One's Way Udaipur is a city full of surprises, so it is interesting to stroll around for 24 hours without a map or GPS. My intuition suggests that you might be able to retrace your steps at every corner or eventful hidden temple, a serene lake or even a market. And that's the thing. You can freely wander the city since you have no map, and you can just rely on your instincts. Ultimately, Udaipur is breathtaking in a way that losing oneself within the maze goes beyond finding a path: it's about accepting the unpredicted turns and cherishing the difference. Thus, what path do you think Udaipur without a GPS will take? The response is quite straightforward: Udaipur will eternally remain within the bounds of the majestic city which is adorned with vivid history and leaves you with a signature 'bowled-over' experience.
India.com
5 hours ago
- India.com
8 Rajasthani Fried Dishes To Fall In Love With
Muskan Kalra Jun 09, 2025 Flaky, deep-fried pastry filled with spicy onion masala. A famous Jodhpur specialty—best served with tamarind chutney. A regional spin on the classic samosa—stuffed with spicy potato or lentil filling and deep-fried to perfection. Heavier on spices and often larger. Thin, crispy fried snack made from moth beans and besan, seasoned with spices. A classic anytime munchie from Bikaner. A sweet twist—deep-fried pastry stuffed with mawa (khoya) and dry fruits, soaked in sugar syrup. Decadent and festive. Large green chilies stuffed with spicy potato masala, dipped in besan batter, and deep-fried. Spicy, crunchy, and addictive. Traditional Rajasthani desert veggies (ker and sangri) mixed in besan batter and deep-fried into crisp fritters. A unique earthy flavor. Besan dumplings (gatte) boiled, sliced, and then deep-fried. These crunchy bites are often served as snacks or added to curries. A tangy and spicy dish where sev (fried gram flour noodles) and tomatoes are mixed into a pakora batter and deep-fried. Bursting with flavor. Read Next Story
The Print
7 hours ago
- The Print
Goa's ‘taxi mafia' crisis is rooted in broken promises. Tourists, residents pay the price
If you've ever visited Goa or followed the state's soap-operatic socio-political events from the outside, you can probably predict what happened next. For years, tourists have lodged increasingly shrill complaints about the 'taxi mafia' charging 'exorbitant' rates for short distances. They've also been caught in the crosshairs of taxi operators whose turf wars are part of the many unspoken rules governing the state. But that melodrama was merely an appetiser compared to the full-course storm that has been brewing since late May. The Goa transport department dropped the live grenade of the draft Goa Transport Aggregator Guidelines 2025 in the Official Gazette. The guidelines are a regulatory framework for app-based taxis, and include licensing fee, tariffs, and incentives. The government has also called upon any objections to be sent to the transport department within 30 days. Over the past few weeks, the monsoon finally arrived in Goa, bringing relief to a parched landscape, and mercifully breaking through the wall of all-enveloping humidity. But the rains have done nothing to cool tempers in the state. A few days ago, Goa's health minister Vishwajit Rane pompously rained fire and brimstone at the Chief Medical Officer of Goa Medical College over allegedly denying care to an elderly patient – without bothering to understand the facts first. The move bombed so spectacularly that it has managed to unite medical professionals across the country. Just a couple of months ago, a tourist at Mopa Airport complained, in a widely disseminated video, about being blocked by local taxi drivers from taking a rental car. Around the same time, a family from the United Kingdom spoke about physical intimidation and having to ransom their way out of a Varca resort, when their pre-booked cabs were apprehended by taxi drivers stationed near the resort. The situation isn't much better for Goan residents, who – in the absence of reasonable and reliable modes of commute – are equally hostage in this game of automotive roulette. All of these simmering grievances reached a rolling boil over the last year, when reports of sliding tourist numbers began to trickle in. Multiple factors have conspired to dent Goa's tourist appeal, but the taxi situation provides the most visible and convenient target for blame. The government has desperately scrambled to manage the fallout by controlling the narrative. The notification of draft guidelines is undoubtedly a step in that direction, after an impressive string of false starts in 2014, 2017, 2019, and 2022. Naturally, taxi operators are up in arms. Dramatic scenes have unfolded from the north to the south ends of the state. Convoys of operators descended upon the Department of Transport office to submit their objections. They also met with MLAs. At one such meeting, Yogesh Govekar – a prominent leader of the Taxi Owners' Association, who goes by the menacing nickname 'Mogambo' – theatrically tore the guidelines. Another operator has threatened suicide. But strip away the theatrical protests, and the taxi operators' desperation begins to make sense. Govekar's own story is an illustration of Goa's post-liberation transformation. Born in 1981 in Vagator, Govekar told me that his family could barely afford the uniform of the school he attended. The taxi business was his family's pathway out of poverty. Starting with a second-hand rental car business after graduation, Govekar built what he describes as a stable middle-class life. From fields to taxis It's a familiar trajectory repeated across thousands of families. Goa's taxi operators trace their legitimacy to an unwritten social contract dating back to the early days of tourism. As Gerard DeSouza explains in his detailed analysis, many of today's drivers descend from the landless peasant classes who worked the fields that were eventually sold to build hotels. When large resorts came up in places like Salcete in the 1980s, those who surrendered their land rights under the Agricultural Tenancy Act were promised they would benefit from tourism – either through jobs or, crucially, through self-employment in transport. DeSouza writes: 'At the core of the taxi operators' 'rent-seeking' behaviours is a need to ensure that they get a share of Goa's tourism industry. When a huge hotel or other tourism-related establishment is set up in a village, the immediate profits go only to the landowner who sold the land for the hotel, while the rest of the village loses more than just a little – be it sewage in the fields, water scarcity, or simply a loss of what was once a freely accessible open space (even though it was privately owned) for as long as you didn't steal the produce. Even though you didn't own all the land in the village, the entire village was in effect 'yours' in the sense that you would demand to have a say in what happens or doesn't happen within the territory.' This is the backdrop to the concerns expressed by people like Govekar. In a state where hotel ownership, restaurant businesses, and even beach shack operations have increasingly moved to outside investors, the taxi sector represents one of the few industries still predominantly controlled by residents. The economics they're defending also has its own logic, however warped it may appear to outsiders. First of all, the per-kilometre fare fixed by the government in Goa is much higher than in other cities. Goa's low population density means taxi drivers often have to deal with empty return journeys. So, the high rates that tourists complain about are an attempt to compensate for the unique demand patterns of a small state. Govekar points out that smaller operators like him cannot compete with the massive fleets operated by corporations such as Uber and Ola, as well as the predatory pricing they introduce in any market. 'This will finish taxis and pilot businesses,' Govekar told me. 'The volume of business is already very low. Many politicians are behaving like sales representatives for app taxis. Tell me: Didn't Campa disappear from the market when Coke was launched?' Also read: 'What about Goanness?': Goa taxi drivers resist govt proposal to bring in app-based cabs Waning sympathy Despite valid concerns, sympathy for the taxi operators' plight evaporates quickly when your cab cancels on you for the fourth time in the middle of a rainy night. The legitimate anxieties of taxi operators are overshadowed by the methods of protecting their turf, which in turn have created a transport system that serves almost no one well. Jack Sukhija, president of the Travel & Tourism Association of Goa, speaks of the mental energy that tourists expend in planning a trip to Goa, especially when they are used to booking taxis in a few taps. 'Tourist taxis are expensive everywhere, but you don't want to spend time worrying about whether the guy will show up or not,' he told me. According to Sukhija, the taxi drivers are mistaken and likely haven't understood the guidelines. For starters, only Goa-registered vehicles can be onboarded to the apps, and there are insurance incentives for drivers. 'Apps will allow taxi operators, who often complain about empty returns, to sweat their asset more,' he said. 'It'll solve some of our parking woes. It's a win-win for everyone.' Tourist complaints, however valid, pale in comparison to the daily transportation struggles faced by Goan residents. Mousinho Reis – who, along with others, launched one of the most prominent petitions for app-based taxis a few years ago – speaks with the frustration of someone who has watched his home state become increasingly unliveable for locals. The petition gathered over 12,000 signatures. Reis has been in this fight for nearly a decade. A former tourism industry professional, he understands all sides of Goa's transport equation. Reis recalls a time in the '80s when he had booked six luxury cars for his VIP clients, only for the guests to be forced into black and yellow cabs by the taxi cartel. He also points to the corruption that has become endemic to the system. Taxi operators, Reis says, are more than just transport providers – they function as commission agents, directing tourists to specific restaurants, hotels, and even more questionable establishments. 'The operators are opposing the apps because this will challenge their monopoly. And they don't want to join them because it will mean an end to their commissions,' he told me. Also read: Goa is silent on caste. It's invisible, and not in English More conflict, less change Beyond these worries are attendant ones about daily life. Reis' frustration encompasses scenarios that will sound familiar to any local: trying to get to a hospital in the middle of the night, only to be told by taxi drivers that they don't want to make the trip and watching tourist taxis occupy every available parking space in the city. 'I am a diabetic who has lost his toes, so I am completely dependent on my wife,' he said. 'I can't call an Ola to even get to the pharmacy. When I do, I have to park miles away because all the parking in Panjim is taken over by tourist cabs.' The result is a state where residents have essentially given up on shared transportation. Goa's vehicle ownership stands at 882 vehicles per 1,000 people, more than three times the national average. But this isn't so much a sign of prosperity as that of systemic failure, and an urban planning disaster. Even now, Reis is cynical about actually witnessing the arrival of app-based taxis in Goa. There is no political will to challenge what he sees as an entrenched vote bank. The taxi operators represent a significant political constituency that successive governments have been reluctant to antagonise. The tragedy is that even if app-based taxis do arrive in Goa, they're unlikely to solve any fundamental problems. Taxi operators will still struggle with the economics of low-density markets. Tourists might get convenience, but will pay roughly the same high fares. And residents will still lack affordable daily transport, because what Goa really needs isn't premium services but a functional bus and autorickshaw system. The government's draft guidelines, while well-intentioned, are unlikely to result in any real impact. And we'll have witnessed another round of maximum conflict, minimal transformation. This article is part of the Goa Life series, which explores the new and the old of Goan culture. Karanjeet Kaur is a journalist, former editor of Arré, and a partner at TWO Design. She tweets @Kaju_Katri. Views are personal. (Edited by Zoya Bhatti)
