On Sunday, Manvendra Singh Shekhawat took an American guest, the wife of a diplomat, from Delhi to Bikaner in a railway saloon. The coach, which he had hired from the Railways, was attached to the end of the train to the city known for its palaces, temples, camel fair and namkeen. Shekhawat had stocked the pantry well and staffed it with butlers. On an earlier occasion, after an English guest at Suryagarh, his hotel in Jaisalmer, said over dinner how she'd love to drive around the city in a sports utility vehicle, Shekhawat called a friend in faraway Jaipur to send one right away - he gave the keys to the guest at breakfast the next morning.
Shekhawat, a former model (he was a finalist in the 2007 Gladrags Manhunt), is at the lower end of a small list of luxury hoteliers in the country. Yadavendra Singh of Samode Hotels, Jaisal Singh of Sujan Luxury, Veer Singh of Vana Retreats, Shruti Shibulal of The Tamara and a few others are quietly putting India on the global luxury travel map. Their properties are small but they sell rooms at a sizeable premium to the country's top city hotels. They are independent and refuse to partner with any big hotel chain, Indian or overseas. None has any ambition to run a big-box (100- or 200-room) city hotel. And they all observe the omerta: never disclose the identity of your customers, especially if they are public figures, in order to protect their privacy and maintain your hotel's exclusivity. But some names do come out. Sharad Pawar seems to have liked Shruti Shibulal's The Tamara Coorg (set in a 170-acre coffee plantation 270 km from Bangalore) enough to have recommended it to at least one other guest. A visitor to Suryagarh in 2012 insists she saw Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen there.
Surprisingly, none of them has studied hotel management or worked for a luxury brand. But they were no strangers to money - and the luxury it can fetch - while growing up. Yadavendra comes from the former royal family of Samode near Jaipur. His rectangular office at Samode Haveli inside the Pink City, Jaipur, on the way to Amer Fort, has an old family picture of a hunt with cheetahs (these were imported from Africa and trained to hunt the prey, not eat it - their share was later cut and given to them). Another recess has a picture of a two-wheel carriage, which can hold one man, pulled by two blackbucks. His staff refers to him as Chhote Sardar. "I was really passionate about hotels," says he. So, immediately after passing out of Mayo College, Ajmer, in 1984 he got down to the task of refurbishing the family palace at Samode, his first hotel. "It helped that it was a lived-in palace. Restoration was not difficult."
Jaisal is a great-grandson of Sardar Bahadur Sir Sobha Singh, the man who built New Delhi along with Edward Lutyens and Herbert Baker. He lives in quaint Sujan Singh Park, the flats Sir Sobha built for his progeny (the most famous inhabitant there is Khushwant Singh, Jaisal's granduncle, now 99), and is married to Anjali, the daughter of Anand Group Chairman Deep C Anand.
Shruti is the daughter of Infosys CEO and co-founder SD Shibulal (net worth on December 31, 2013: Rs 4,331 crore). But she insists that didn't affect her during her formative years. "We had a middle-class upbringing till the late '90s," she told Business Standard in late 2012. "I grew up seeing my dad work obscenely hard. We are very aware of the value of money."
The only outsider, in some sense, is Veer Singh, the son of Max India's Analjit Singh (net worth: Rs 2,157 crore). Not long ago, he was a diehard socialist. "I had an issue with capitalism, consumption, corporations and governments," he said last year. So, he destroyed all his credit cards, removed the air-conditioning ducts from his room, brought his wardrobe down to just four pairs of clothes and slippers, and insisted on travelling by bus and bicycle within the city. For travel outside Delhi, Veer would book himself into second-class train compartments. His father would fret and fume but never put strictures on his son. There would be some awkward moments, like when Veer, while studying at Imperial College in London, began to demonstrate outside the United States embassy and facilities at various places - Analjit, after all, was doing business with American corporations like New York Life.
Vana, which opened on January 3, happened after Veer had tried his hand at music, physics and organic farming. (Veer describes it as a wellness destination that offers alternate therapies like Ayurveda, Tibetan healing, yoga and naturopathy.) The 21 acres where the retreat is located were owned by the family. Veer has spent Rs 340 crore of family money and debt (repayment guaranteed by the family) to set up the 86 rooms, suites and villas along with 55 consultation rooms. Exclusive of land, this is perhaps the most expensive retreat or hotel built in the country in terms of cost per room. Putting together a retreat that charges so much isn't easy. One unhappy guest can roil the show. Thus, Veer has slept in almost every room at Vana to make sure it's comfortable, interviewed all job seekers including the gardeners, made all therapists work on him at least twice before handing them the appointment letter and searched for alternate-medicine specialists all over the country: Dharamshala for Tibetan therapy, Delhi for Ayurveda and Dehradun for acupuncture.
Attention to detail is paramount in luxury. Veer, for instance, has laid down six standard operating procedures for his staff when they greet a guest with Namaste. There is a drill for refusing tips and also for accepting it if the guest persists. The cotton kurta and pajama for guests have been designed by designer duo Abraham & Thakore. Veer is now looking for a knitwear designer who can do woollen sweaters for the guests. Yadavendra's staff insists that the hotel stocks nothing - not even a paper napkin - unless Chhote Sardar has given his nod. "The idea is that it shouldn't feel like a hotel; the guest should feel he is at a friend's place," says Yadavendra. For the Samode Safari Lodge at Bandhavgarh, he took his architect to two high-end wildlife resorts in South Africa and one in Tanzania. He spent Rs 16 crore to set up the 12-room lodge (this does not include the lease rental on the land).
"Everything we use," says Jaisal, "is made especially for us. We don't buy anything off the rack." At Sherbagh in Ranthambore, Jaisal has used tents made in Jodhpur, rugs woven in Jaipur, and furniture crafted in Delhi and Uttar Pradesh. "Only the ice-cream machine (Swiss) and the ovens (probably German) have been imported." Luxury, says Jaisal, is not about in-your-face opulence: it is understated and subtle, something that can be felt but not measured in numbers. "We sell an experience, not a room. It shows in the coffee we serve, in the food basket we give you for the jungle safari." When a guest checks in, his staff tries to figure out why is he here: to chill or to see wildlife? Accordingly, the services are tweaked. For example, the wildlife enthusiast may want to settle for a functional lunch, while another guest may want a sumptuous and leisurely lunch. "We never say no to a guest. If it's not illegal, we'll do it," says Jaisal. "We could even fly down a chef from Hong Kong if the guest wants authentic Chinese food, and charge the guest for it."
According to Yadavendra, luxury evolves over time. "What were luxuries 20 years ago, like air-conditioning and television, are the basics now," says he. So, people like him have to innovate all the time. Moreover, luxury travel, because it is a growing segment, has aroused the interest of the big chains as well. That's why it is essential for boutique luxury hoteliers to constantly reinvent themselves, or think of new experiences for their guests. Thus, the 34 luxury cottages at The Tamara Coorg (to be expanded to 50) are built on stilts, while the conference room is next to a waterfall. Guests can create their own coffee blend at the resort using a table-top coffee machine, and take it back as a one-of-a-kind souvenir. It's also about listening to what guests want: a year ago, some of the guests with high-end cars like BMWs informed the management that the speed breakers were grazing the belly of the cars. So, the resort reduced their elevation by 20 mm. Shruti's next property will come up at Kodaikanal in Tamil Nadu, at a spot where a 150-year-old church and convent stood. The decision to stand apart has also meant going against conventional wisdom in some instances. For example, to usher in 2014, the resort chose to organise a kathak performance for its guests, rather than an all-night party. The guests, claims the hotel staff, appreciated the gesture.
The key to luxury is service. People therefore are the most critical piece of the jigsaw. "In luxury, the software is more important than the hardware," Jaisal says. Surprisingly, most prefer to employ locals, even for guest-facing roles. Inside Jaisal's office in south Delhi, housed in a sprawling compound surrounded by a high stone wall and past a garage that holds over half a dozen vintage cars, there's a framed photograph of about 30 employees, men and women, who were put through training in Gurgaon. Jaisal picks up the frame and points at about half a dozen people: "These are the ones who are educated." He had hired a butler for Sherbagh from a hotel-management school, but a local employee proved better on the job.
Yadavendra discloses that 70 per cent of his staff comprises local people. Half of the waiters in his three properties in and around Jaipur have become fluent in French - fluent enough to work as guides. The Tamara Coorg, says CEO and director Senthil Kumar N, has let its staff retain their individuality while serving guests. "Some brands have strict rules for their staff, to the extent of where the hands should be placed when they say Namaste. But over a period of time, this will feel plastic. We have let our staff be who they are and guests have noticed this." Most of these hotels have over three people for every room. None offloads staff during the lean season.
Shekhawat, a former model (he was a finalist in the 2007 Gladrags Manhunt), is at the lower end of a small list of luxury hoteliers in the country. Yadavendra Singh of Samode Hotels, Jaisal Singh of Sujan Luxury, Veer Singh of Vana Retreats, Shruti Shibulal of The Tamara and a few others are quietly putting India on the global luxury travel map. Their properties are small but they sell rooms at a sizeable premium to the country's top city hotels. They are independent and refuse to partner with any big hotel chain, Indian or overseas. None has any ambition to run a big-box (100- or 200-room) city hotel. And they all observe the omerta: never disclose the identity of your customers, especially if they are public figures, in order to protect their privacy and maintain your hotel's exclusivity. But some names do come out. Sharad Pawar seems to have liked Shruti Shibulal's The Tamara Coorg (set in a 170-acre coffee plantation 270 km from Bangalore) enough to have recommended it to at least one other guest. A visitor to Suryagarh in 2012 insists she saw Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen there.
Surprisingly, none of them has studied hotel management or worked for a luxury brand. But they were no strangers to money - and the luxury it can fetch - while growing up. Yadavendra comes from the former royal family of Samode near Jaipur. His rectangular office at Samode Haveli inside the Pink City, Jaipur, on the way to Amer Fort, has an old family picture of a hunt with cheetahs (these were imported from Africa and trained to hunt the prey, not eat it - their share was later cut and given to them). Another recess has a picture of a two-wheel carriage, which can hold one man, pulled by two blackbucks. His staff refers to him as Chhote Sardar. "I was really passionate about hotels," says he. So, immediately after passing out of Mayo College, Ajmer, in 1984 he got down to the task of refurbishing the family palace at Samode, his first hotel. "It helped that it was a lived-in palace. Restoration was not difficult."
Shruti is the daughter of Infosys CEO and co-founder SD Shibulal (net worth on December 31, 2013: Rs 4,331 crore). But she insists that didn't affect her during her formative years. "We had a middle-class upbringing till the late '90s," she told Business Standard in late 2012. "I grew up seeing my dad work obscenely hard. We are very aware of the value of money."
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Vana, which opened on January 3, happened after Veer had tried his hand at music, physics and organic farming. (Veer describes it as a wellness destination that offers alternate therapies like Ayurveda, Tibetan healing, yoga and naturopathy.) The 21 acres where the retreat is located were owned by the family. Veer has spent Rs 340 crore of family money and debt (repayment guaranteed by the family) to set up the 86 rooms, suites and villas along with 55 consultation rooms. Exclusive of land, this is perhaps the most expensive retreat or hotel built in the country in terms of cost per room. Putting together a retreat that charges so much isn't easy. One unhappy guest can roil the show. Thus, Veer has slept in almost every room at Vana to make sure it's comfortable, interviewed all job seekers including the gardeners, made all therapists work on him at least twice before handing them the appointment letter and searched for alternate-medicine specialists all over the country: Dharamshala for Tibetan therapy, Delhi for Ayurveda and Dehradun for acupuncture.
Attention to detail is paramount in luxury. Veer, for instance, has laid down six standard operating procedures for his staff when they greet a guest with Namaste. There is a drill for refusing tips and also for accepting it if the guest persists. The cotton kurta and pajama for guests have been designed by designer duo Abraham & Thakore. Veer is now looking for a knitwear designer who can do woollen sweaters for the guests. Yadavendra's staff insists that the hotel stocks nothing - not even a paper napkin - unless Chhote Sardar has given his nod. "The idea is that it shouldn't feel like a hotel; the guest should feel he is at a friend's place," says Yadavendra. For the Samode Safari Lodge at Bandhavgarh, he took his architect to two high-end wildlife resorts in South Africa and one in Tanzania. He spent Rs 16 crore to set up the 12-room lodge (this does not include the lease rental on the land).
"Everything we use," says Jaisal, "is made especially for us. We don't buy anything off the rack." At Sherbagh in Ranthambore, Jaisal has used tents made in Jodhpur, rugs woven in Jaipur, and furniture crafted in Delhi and Uttar Pradesh. "Only the ice-cream machine (Swiss) and the ovens (probably German) have been imported." Luxury, says Jaisal, is not about in-your-face opulence: it is understated and subtle, something that can be felt but not measured in numbers. "We sell an experience, not a room. It shows in the coffee we serve, in the food basket we give you for the jungle safari." When a guest checks in, his staff tries to figure out why is he here: to chill or to see wildlife? Accordingly, the services are tweaked. For example, the wildlife enthusiast may want to settle for a functional lunch, while another guest may want a sumptuous and leisurely lunch. "We never say no to a guest. If it's not illegal, we'll do it," says Jaisal. "We could even fly down a chef from Hong Kong if the guest wants authentic Chinese food, and charge the guest for it."
According to Yadavendra, luxury evolves over time. "What were luxuries 20 years ago, like air-conditioning and television, are the basics now," says he. So, people like him have to innovate all the time. Moreover, luxury travel, because it is a growing segment, has aroused the interest of the big chains as well. That's why it is essential for boutique luxury hoteliers to constantly reinvent themselves, or think of new experiences for their guests. Thus, the 34 luxury cottages at The Tamara Coorg (to be expanded to 50) are built on stilts, while the conference room is next to a waterfall. Guests can create their own coffee blend at the resort using a table-top coffee machine, and take it back as a one-of-a-kind souvenir. It's also about listening to what guests want: a year ago, some of the guests with high-end cars like BMWs informed the management that the speed breakers were grazing the belly of the cars. So, the resort reduced their elevation by 20 mm. Shruti's next property will come up at Kodaikanal in Tamil Nadu, at a spot where a 150-year-old church and convent stood. The decision to stand apart has also meant going against conventional wisdom in some instances. For example, to usher in 2014, the resort chose to organise a kathak performance for its guests, rather than an all-night party. The guests, claims the hotel staff, appreciated the gesture.
The key to luxury is service. People therefore are the most critical piece of the jigsaw. "In luxury, the software is more important than the hardware," Jaisal says. Surprisingly, most prefer to employ locals, even for guest-facing roles. Inside Jaisal's office in south Delhi, housed in a sprawling compound surrounded by a high stone wall and past a garage that holds over half a dozen vintage cars, there's a framed photograph of about 30 employees, men and women, who were put through training in Gurgaon. Jaisal picks up the frame and points at about half a dozen people: "These are the ones who are educated." He had hired a butler for Sherbagh from a hotel-management school, but a local employee proved better on the job.
Yadavendra discloses that 70 per cent of his staff comprises local people. Half of the waiters in his three properties in and around Jaipur have become fluent in French - fluent enough to work as guides. The Tamara Coorg, says CEO and director Senthil Kumar N, has let its staff retain their individuality while serving guests. "Some brands have strict rules for their staff, to the extent of where the hands should be placed when they say Namaste. But over a period of time, this will feel plastic. We have let our staff be who they are and guests have noticed this." Most of these hotels have over three people for every room. None offloads staff during the lean season.
* * *