Humayun's Tomb in Delhi is a magnificent UNESCO-listed Mughal mausoleum built in 1572 that set the template for garden tomb architecture across South Asia and served as the direct architectural inspiration for the iconic Taj Mahal in Agra.
India: Delhi – The Red Fort & Old Delhi
🏛️ New Delhi vs Old Delhi — Two Cities, One Chaos
New Delhi and Old Delhi are not the same place, and anyone who gets them muddled up hasn’t spent five minutes in either. New Delhi is the modern capital of India and one of Delhi’s eleven official districts — a planned, deliberate city that was essentially drawn up on a drawing board by a couple of Englishmen who had very strong opinions about wide roads and symmetry.
The foundation stone was laid in December 1911 by King George V himself, who was in India for the Delhi Durbar — a grand imperial pageant celebrating his coronation as Emperor of India. It was the last such Durbar ever held, and roughly 100,000 soldiers, princes, and dignitaries turned up for it, which gives you some idea of the scale of ambition involved. The two architects tasked with designing the new capital were Sir Edwin Lutyens and Sir Herbert Baker, both distinguished, both very British, and both apparently very keen on columns, domes, and making everything look impressively permanent. Lutyens in particular left his mark so thoroughly that the government district is still called Lutyens’ Delhi to this day.
The whole project took the best part of twenty years to complete, which, frankly, is about par for the course when government is involved. New Delhi was finally inaugurated on 13th February 1931, by Lord Irwin, the Viceroy and Governor-General of India — a man who presumably cut a ribbon, said something statesmanlike, and tried not to sweat through his dress uniform. The design philosophy was built around wide, tree-lined boulevards, elegant bungalows set in generous plots, and large green open spaces. It was orderly, considered, and not entirely unlike trying to transplant a rather grand English garden suburb into the middle of the Indian subcontinent.
🕌 Old Delhi — A Completely Different Story
Old Delhi is, to put it diplomatically, something else entirely. Where New Delhi was planned with a ruler and a set square, Old Delhi evolved organically over centuries — and it shows. The streets are narrow, the buildings are packed together like rush-hour passengers on the Tube, and the whole place hums with a kind of magnificent, overwhelming busyness that simultaneously thrills and exhausts you.
Old Delhi began life as Shahjahanabad, founded in 1638 by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan — the same chap who built the Taj Mahal, so we know he wasn’t short of ambition. He decided to shift the Mughal imperial capital from Agra, and chose a site on the western bank of the Yamuna River to build his new city. At its heart he constructed the vast Red Fort — the Lal Qila — which took nine years to build and served as the main Mughal residence for two centuries. The city that grew up around it became one of the great metropolises of the Islamic world, complete with mosques, bazaars, and the famous Chandni Chowk market, which remains to this day one of the most chaotic and exhilarating shopping streets on the planet.
🚗 The Traffic — Organised Chaos (Mostly Chaos)
We had discovered, fairly rapidly, that the traffic in Delhi is completely and utterly mad, whatever time of day you happen to be unfortunate enough to find yourself moving through it. Morning, afternoon, evening — it doesn’t matter. The roads are always full, always loud, and always operating on a set of rules that nobody has ever written down and nobody seems entirely certain about.
What was remarkable, genuinely remarkable, was that things kept moving. Slowly, chaotically, with what felt like millimetres to spare on all sides — but moving nonetheless. We weren’t entirely sure how. There’s a theory that sufficient horn-honking creates its own kind of traffic management system, and Delhi’s drivers have certainly committed to testing that hypothesis. The noise is extraordinary.
As for the white lines painted on the road — well. Someone clearly went to a great deal of trouble to paint them, and we felt a little sorry for them, because nobody pays them the slightest bit of attention. Lane discipline, in the Western sense, does not exist here. What exists instead is a fluid, constantly renegotiated understanding between drivers that somehow — somehow — produces forward motion rather than a pile-up every thirty seconds. Cars squeezed into gaps that looked, from where we were sitting, physically impossible. Motorbikes and scooters wove through the spaces between vehicles with a casual confidence that suggested either great skill or a very relaxed attitude to personal safety. Several of the scooters appeared to be carrying entire families. One had a washing machine on the back. We did not ask questions.
⬜ Why Are All the Cars White?
We noticed, after a while, that a striking number of Delhi’s cars were white. Not a polite majority — a rather overwhelming proportion of them. We asked about this, because it was the sort of thing that nags at you, and we were given two explanations, both of which were entirely sensible.
The first was practical: white reflects heat. In a city where summer temperatures can easily push above 45°C (that’s 113°F for those who never quite made the switch), a white car stays meaningfully cooler than a dark one, which matters quite a lot when you’re sitting in traffic. The second explanation was delivered with the sort of cheerful pragmatism we came to associate with Delhi: everyone keeps a tin of white paint. Scrapes, dents, the minor collisions that are essentially inevitable in Delhi traffic — all easily dealt with. A quick coat of white and nobody’s any the wiser. It was, we had to admit, a very sensible system.
🕐 Rush Hour, Indian Style — Later Than You’d Think
Today we had managed to hit rush hour — which in Delhi operates on a rather more civilised timetable than the punishing 8am scramble we were used to back home. Many private companies don’t start until 9:30 in the morning, and government offices don’t stir until 10:00am. On one level this seems entirely reasonable. On another it simply means that the roads, which were already comprehensively mad, become comprehensively mad slightly later in the day than you were expecting. Progress, of sorts.
The one genuine silver lining to crawling through Delhi’s streets at a pace that would embarrass a tired tortoise was that we got a proper look at the mêlée of day-to-day street life going on around us. It felt as though every one of Delhi’s thirty-two million residents had simultaneously decided that today was the day to drive somewhere. Not everyone was in a car, though — the buses were packed, their bodywork carrying the kind of complex dent-work that only accumulates after years of close-quarters negotiation with Delhi traffic. They had the battered, stoic air of veterans who had simply got on with it.
Delhi also has a metro system, and on the very day we were there it was expanding. Prime Minister Narendra Modi was inaugurating the new Magenta Line — though he had conspicuously declined to invite Delhi’s Chief Minister, Arvind Kejriwal, who leads the Aam Aadmi Party and is very much not a member of Mr Modi’s BJP, the Bharatiya Janata Party. Whether you call it a snub or simply the way things work in Indian politics probably depends on which side of the aisle you’re sitting on.
Rail travel in India is, in any case, a staggering business. In 2015, approximately eight billion passenger journeys were made on Indian Railways in a single year. Amtrak, by comparison, carries around thirty million passengers annually, with America’s commuter rail adding perhaps another billion. India, on its own, dwarfs the lot, and Indian Railways is the world’s eighth-largest employer with 1.3 million staff. Wow, indeed.
Our slow progress also gave us a wedding horse being led back from its duties, still fully decorated, and then — because Delhi is Delhi — an elephant crossing the road in front of us. Calmly. As if this were entirely normal. Not something you would ever see in Bend, Oregon.
🕌 Jama Masjid — The World-Reflecting Mosque
Our first stop was the Masjid-i Jahān-Numā, the World-reflecting Mosque, better known as the Jama Masjid of Delhi — the largest mosque in India, its courtyard capable of holding 25,000 worshippers. Begun in 1644, it was Shah Jahan’s final great architectural statement, built from alternating strips of red sandstone and white marble, with three monumental gateways and two minarets each standing 40 metres tall. We removed our shoes, paid 300 rupees for the camera, and Karen was required to put on a robe. If you’ve seen the photographs, her expression says everything that needs saying. The façade was spectacular and the hazy Delhi air, rather than detracting from things, gave the whole place a wonderfully moody atmosphere. We made full use of our 300 rupees.
🛺 The Rickshaw Ride — Thrills, Spills and Questionable Wiring
The next stop was the Red Fort, on the other side of Old Delhi, which meant deciding how to get there. We were offered the chance to go by cycle rickshaw through the narrow back streets. This was not the kind of offer you turn down.
Getting in was my first challenge. I am not, it turns out, ideally proportioned for the cycle rickshaws of Old Delhi — my head made firm and immediate contact with the roof, where it stayed for the entire journey. There was nothing much to hold on to apart from each other, and it was made clear that having any part of your body hanging outside was a bad idea unless you were happy to leave it behind somewhere in an alleyway. Fair enough.
The alleys of Old Delhi are genuinely narrow — six to eight feet wide in places, and absolutely heaving with pedestrians, other rickshaws, motorbikes and scooters. These streets have been this way since Shahjahanabad was built in the seventeenth century, and they were definitely not designed with oversized Englishmen in mind.
It was, without question, one of the most exhilarating things we had done in years — not in a relaxing, spa-weekend sort of way, but in the sense that Karen and I were in a state of barely-suppressed nervous hysteria throughout. It made the most alarming ride at a Six Flags resort feel like a gentle punt down the Cam. Karen instructed me to take as many photographs as possible, which was perfectly reasonable except that we were jerking violently from side to side every few seconds. The results were mixed.
The engineer in me was particularly struck by the power lines — a dense, chaotic spaghetti of cables strung across the rooftops that appeared to have been added to over several decades by people with wildly different views on electrical safety. I genuinely could not work out how anyone would fix a fault in that lot. Towards the end, our guide Zupaigh pulled the rickshaws over to point out a couple of things along the way.
🛕 Two Temples Side by Side — and a Lot to Take In
The first things that stopped us in our tracks were two temples, sitting right next to each other as if placed there deliberately to confuse anyone who didn’t know their Jainism from their Hinduism. Which, let’s be honest, included me.
The first was the Gauri Shankar Mandir, a Hindu temple built in gleaming white marble — and I do mean gleaming. We’ll come back to Hinduism properly later because there’s a great deal to say. The second, right alongside it, was the Sri Digambar Jain Lal Mandir, belonging to followers of the Jain faith.
Jainism is one of the oldest religions on earth, and I’ll confess I’d never heard of it before arriving in India. That’s not entirely surprising — Jains make up only about 0.4% of India’s population. The name comes from the Sanskrit word Jina, meaning “victor,” the idea being that one achieves victory by crossing life’s endless cycle of rebirths through ethical and spiritual living. Quite a commitment.
Jains trace their faith through twenty-four great teachers known as Tirthankaras. The first is believed to have lived millions of years ago, and the twenty-fourth was Mahavira, who lived around 500 BCE.
🍔 Ronald McDonald’s Unexpected Neighbours
Back to why we’d actually stopped. A small group of men stood on the pavement outside a McDonald’s, all wearing red turbans. They were not, I should clarify, burger flippers or in any way connected to Ronald’s particular brand of beige cuisine.
They were members of a specific hereditary caste whose sole professional purpose was cleaning people’s ears. I am not making this up. A skill passed carefully from father to son, generation after generation. I found myself wondering about career conversations in that household.
🏯 Red Fort
A few hundred yards further on, our little tour came to a halt at the entrance to the Red Fort.
The fort is a vast complex sitting in the heart of Old Delhi, and for roughly two hundred years — from the early seventeenth century right up until 1857 — it served as the principal residence of the Mughal emperors. It wasn’t just a palace, either. It was the ceremonial and political beating heart of the entire Mughal Empire, the place where decisions were made that shaped the fate of the subcontinent.
Sadly, what you see today is a shadow of what once stood here. In 1747, the Persian emperor Nadir Shah swept in and systematically stripped the fort of its artwork and jewels, leaving it considerably less glittery than before. Then, following the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857, the British set about destroying most of the fort’s exquisite marble structures, apparently feeling that historical treasures were less useful than a good garrison. The defensive walls survived, and the fort became a military base. It was also here that the British put the last Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar, on trial before packing him off to exile in Rangoon in 1858. Not a proud chapter.
🐕 Dogs, Bamboo, and a Health and Safety Nightmare
Walking up to the entrance, two things caught my eye. First, the impressive collection of stray dogs loitering about with absolutely no sense of purpose. Second, the scaffolding being used by the renovation workers — a magnificent web of bamboo poles lashed together with rope. Not a steel tube in sight. Back home, a site inspector would have fainted on the spot.
Feral dogs were absolutely everywhere, and the locals didn’t seem remotely bothered. In fact, they actively fed them scraps and titbits. This, it turns out, is deeply rooted in Indian culture — show kindness to animals in this life and you’ll be rewarded when you pass into the next one. Fair enough, I suppose.
There are apparently around 30 million feral dogs in India. Thirty million. Which is fine, until you learn that 20,000 people die from rabies there every year — accounting for a rather alarming 35% of all rabies deaths on the entire planet. I’m no mathematician, but that does sound like it might be worth addressing.
Cats, meanwhile, are considered unlucky by many Indians, which probably explains why you barely see one. Can’t say the dogs are complaining.
Security at the Red Fort was, to put it mildly, serious. Armed soldiers and armoured vehicles lined the approach to the entrance, which gave the whole thing the relaxed atmosphere of a border crossing. This wasn’t theatrical — the Red Fort is an active military base, and given the long-running tensions between India and Pakistan, nobody was taking any chances. Terrorist attacks in India are, sadly, not uncommon.
At the entrance, two queues formed — one for men, one for women. The men were directed onto a raised platform where a decidedly unsmiling soldier gave each of us a thorough frisking. The ladies, meanwhile, were ushered behind a curtain to preserve their modesty, where an equally unsmiling female soldier did precisely the same job with the same enthusiasm.
Different curtain. Same experience.
Once inside, the sheer scale of the place hit us immediately. Elegant gardens stretched out in every direction, flanked by stately buildings that gave the whole thing a real sense of occasion.
Sadly, the British — never ones to leave well enough alone — demolished a good number of the original structures and replaced them with barrack buildings. Functional, no doubt. Beautiful, not remotely.
What survives of the original Mughal architecture are the imperial apartments: a handsome row of pavilions linked by a water channel grandly named the Stream of Paradise. Which, given the state they’d been allowed to fall into, felt rather optimistic. Damp and crumbling would have been closer to the mark. The government has since stepped in to refurbish them, which is genuinely good news.
The bad news? Completely closed to visitors. So we stood outside and admired them through a fence like everybody else.
In Summary …
- A cycle rickshaw ride is a must – it is exhilarating and possible dangerous
- The old part of Delhi is bustling, dirty and fun
- The Red Fort is a must for any visit to Delhi
Planning Your Visit
🕌 Jama Masjid
| 📍 Location | Off Netaji Subhash Marg, Chandni Chowk, Old Delhi – 110006 | 🕖 Opening Times | Daily, 7:00 AM – 12:00 PM & 1:30 PM – 6:30 PM |
| 🌐 Website | delhitourism.gov.in | 📞 Phone | 011-23365358 |
| 🚇 Metro | Violet/Heritage Line — Jama Masjid Station; or Yellow Line — Chawri Bazar Station | 🚌 Bus | DTC AC and non-AC routes throughout Old and New Delhi |
🎟️ Entry Fees
| Foreign Nationals | Under 15s | Photography | Minaret Climb |
|---|---|---|---|
| ₹400 | Free | ₹200–300 | ₹100 extra |
ℹ️ Entry is free for Indian nationals. Visitors not admitted during prayer times. Dress code applies; robes available to hire at the northern gate.
🏯 Red Fort (Lal Qila)
| 📍 Location | Netaji Subhash Marg, Lal Qila, Chandni Chowk, New Delhi – 110006 | 🕖 Opening Times | Tuesday–Sunday, 9:30 AM – 4:30 PM (closed Mondays) |
| 🌐 Website | asi.nic.in | 📞 Phone | 011-24654832 |
| 🚇 Metro | Violet Line — Lal Quila Station (0.5 km); or Yellow Line — Chandni Chowk Station (1.2 km) | 🚌 Bus | DTC routes 214, 261, 347, 405 and others to Red Fort bus stop |
🎟️ Entry Fees
| Foreign Nationals | Under 15s | Light & Sound Show (weekday) | Light & Sound Show (weekend) |
|---|---|---|---|
| ₹500 | Free | Adult ₹60 / Child ₹20 | Adult ₹80 / Child ₹30 |
ℹ️ Photography permitted in most areas. Museum sections may have separate restrictions. Tickets bookable online via the ASI portal.
Places to Visit Close by
1. Qutab Minar
The Qutab Minar is a tall tower located in the south of Delhi, India. It was built in the early thirteenth century and stands at around 73 metres high, making it one of the tallest brick minarets in the world. Construction was started by Qutb ud-Din Aibak, the founder of the Delhi Sultanate, and was completed by his successors over several decades. The tower is made from red sandstone and marble, and its surface is covered in detailed carvings and verses from the Quran. It has five distinct storeys, each marked by a projecting balcony. The surrounding complex includes several other historical structures, such as the Quwwat ul-Islam mosque and a famous iron pillar that has resisted rusting for well over a thousand years. The site is recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site and draws a large number of visitors each year. It remains one of the most significant examples of early Islamic architecture in the Indian subcontinent..
2. Humayun’s tomb
Humayun’s Tomb sits in the south of Delhi and was built in the 1560s to hold the remains of the Mughal emperor Humayun. It was commissioned by his widow, Haji Begum, and designed by a Persian architect, which is why it has a distinctly Persian feel alongside its Indian influences. The main structure stands on a raised platform and is topped with a large white marble dome, flanked by smaller domed pavilions. The building is set within a formal charbagh — a garden divided into four quarters by pathways and water channels — which gives the whole site a calm, ordered quality. It is widely regarded as an early example of what would become the classic Mughal style of architecture, a tradition that later produced the Taj Mahal. The complex also contains a number of smaller tombs and structures within its grounds. It was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1993 and has undergone significant restoration work in recent decades, leaving much of it in good condition for visitors today.
3. India Gate
India Gate is a large stone war memorial that stands at the eastern end of Kartavya Path, the ceremonial boulevard that runs through the heart of New Delhi. Built in 1931 and designed by the British architect Edwin Lutyens, it was originally constructed to honour the roughly 84,000 Indian soldiers who died fighting for the British Indian Army during the First World War and the Anglo-Afghan War of 1919. The names of many of those soldiers are inscribed on the structure’s surface. The arch stands about 42 metres tall and is made from red and yellow sandstone. Beneath it burns the Amar Jawan Jyoti, an eternal flame lit in 1972 as a memorial to Indian soldiers who died in the 1971 Indo-Pakistani War, though this flame was later merged with another memorial flame at the National War Memorial nearby in 2022. Today, India Gate is one of the most visited landmarks in the country. The surrounding lawns are a popular spot for families and visitors, particularly in the evenings, and the site sits at the centre of the capital’s ceremonial life.
4. Raj Ghat (Gandhi Memorial)
Raj Ghat is a memorial site in New Delhi that marks the place where Mahatma Gandhi was cremated on 31 January 1948, the day after his assassination. The central feature is a simple black marble platform set within a large, well-kept garden. An eternal flame burns at one end of the platform, and Gandhi’s words — “Hey Ram”, said to have been his last — are inscribed on a small plaque nearby. Visitors are asked to remove their footwear before approaching the memorial, as is customary at sites of religious and national significance in India. The surrounding parkland is planted with trees, some of which were grown from seeds or saplings brought by visiting heads of state and dignitaries over the decades. The site draws a steady mix of Indian visitors, schoolchildren, pilgrims, and foreign tourists throughout the year. It is maintained by the Archaeological Survey of India, and sits close to several other memorials along the bank of the Yamuna river, each dedicated to a different prominent figure from India’s post-independence era.
Planning Your Visit to New Delhi
Best Time to Visit New Delhi
❄️ Winter · November to February
Rating: Ideal | Temperatures: 5 °C – 20 °C
Winter is widely considered the finest time to visit Delhi. Daytime temperatures are pleasantly cool while evenings carry a crisp chill. The sky clears between December and February, making long days of sightseeing at the Qutb Minar, Red Fort, and Humayun’s Tomb a genuine pleasure. December and January bring dense fog that can disrupt flights and trains, so build buffer time into your itinerary. January’s Republic Day parade on the 26th is a spectacular, if crowded, occasion.
What to pack: A warm coat or puffer jacket for evenings and early mornings, light to medium jumpers for daytime, comfortable walking shoes, a scarf and gloves for January, and sunglasses for clear days. A compact daypack is useful for temple visits.
🌸 Spring · March to April
Rating: Good | Temperatures: 20 °C – 35 °C
Spring arrives quickly in Delhi. March is delightful — warm but not oppressive — and the city blooms with bougainvillea and jasmine. Holi, the festival of colour, falls in March and is one of Delhi’s most exuberant street celebrations. By April the mercury climbs steeply and afternoons become distinctly hot and dry. Spring offers lower hotel prices and fewer crowds than peak winter, but those sensitive to heat should aim for March only.
What to pack: Light, breathable clothing in natural fabrics such as cotton or linen, a light long-sleeved layer for temple visits and cooler evenings, high-SPF sunscreen, a wide-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and a reusable water bottle.
☀️ Summer · May to June
Rating: Difficult | Temperatures: 35 °C – 48 °C
Delhi in summer is brutal. May and June regularly push temperatures above 42 °C, and hot dust-laden winds known as the loo sweep across the plains each afternoon. Serious outdoor sightseeing grinds to a halt between 11 am and 5 pm. Air-conditioned museums, galleries, and shopping centres become essential refuges. This is the low season, and hotel rates reflect it — a practical choice only for the most budget-conscious or heat-tolerant traveller.
What to pack: Ultra-lightweight, loose-fitting clothing in pale colours, a full-coverage sun hat, very high-SPF sunscreen, UV-protective sunglasses, a large reusable water bottle, and oral rehydration sachets. A portable fan or cooling mist spray can make a real difference.
🌧️ Monsoon · July to September
Rating: Mixed | Temperatures: 25 °C – 38 °C
The monsoon brings welcome relief from the summer heat but introduces its own challenges. Rainfall arrives in heavy, unpredictable bursts, causing localised flooding and waterlogged streets. Humidity is high and persistent. That said, the city turns green, the air quality improves markedly, and Delhi’s gardens — particularly Lodi Garden and Mehrauli Archaeological Park — become lush and atmospheric. Prices remain low and crowds thin. Those prepared for the rain will find a more intimate, less-polished version of the city.
What to pack: Quick-dry clothing, a sturdy waterproof jacket or packable rain mac, a compact umbrella, waterproof sandals or shoes, and zip-lock bags to protect electronics and documents. Insect repellent is important during and after heavy rain.
🍂 Autumn · October to early November
Rating: Very good | Temperatures: 18 °C – 33 °C
Autumn is an underrated gem of the Delhi calendar. October sees the monsoon ease, humidity drop, and temperatures settle into a very comfortable range. The city buzzes with the Diwali festival of lights, typically falling in October or November, which fills every neighbourhood with lamps, fireworks, and sweet vendors. It is worth noting that post-Diwali air quality can deteriorate sharply due to crop-burning in neighbouring states, so those with respiratory conditions should check pollution forecasts carefully.
What to pack: Light daywear with a medium layer for evenings, comfortable walking shoes, sunscreen for October afternoons, and a light scarf. A pollution mask (N95) is worth including if you are visiting in late October or early November.
Overall best time to visit
If you can choose only one window, aim for late October through to early February. This roughly five-month stretch — covering the tail end of autumn and the whole of the winter season — offers the most consistently comfortable conditions for exploring Delhi’s extraordinary spread of monuments, markets, and neighbourhoods. November and early December hit a particular sweet spot: the post-monsoon air is relatively clear, the Diwali festivities may still be in full swing, crowds are manageable, and the temperatures are ideal for walking. Those wishing to catch a specific cultural highlight should note that Holi in March and Diwali in October or November are each transformative experiences in their own right, and scheduling a visit around either festival will add real depth and colour to any trip.
Where to stay in New Delhi
1. HAVELI DHARAMPURA
Tucked into the lanes of Old Delhi’s Chandni Chowk, Haveli Dharampura is a restored 19th-century mansion that operates as a boutique heritage hotel. The property was rescued from near-dereliction and reopened in 2015 following a painstaking restoration that brought back its original courtyard layout, carved wooden screens, and ornate façades. It has 14 rooms, each decorated in a traditional style that reflects the architectural character of the building rather than imposing a generic luxury finish. The rooftop restaurant serves Mughlai and North Indian food with views across the Old City’s rooftops and minarets. The location puts guests within walking distance of Jama Masjid and the spice markets of Khari Baoli. It is not a property for those who want modern amenities above all else, but for travellers interested in the history and fabric of Old Delhi, it is a well-considered base.
2. MAIDENS HOTEL
The Maidens Hotel in Delhi is one of India’s oldest surviving hotels, built in 1903 during the British colonial era. Located in the Civil Lines area of Old Delhi, it originally served as a residence for British officials and dignitaries. The hotel is a fine example of colonial architecture, with wide verandas, high ceilings and well-maintained gardens that give it a distinctly old-world character. It has 54 rooms and suites, a swimming pool, and several dining options including the Latitude 28° restaurant. The property is now managed by the Oberoi Group under its heritage brand. Despite being over a century old, it remains a functioning hotel rather than a museum piece, attracting guests who want a quieter, more traditional alternative to Delhi’s modern five-star options. Its location near the university and government buildings makes it convenient for visitors with business in the northern parts of the city.
3. BLOOM ROOMS NEW DELHI
Bloomrooms @ New Delhi Railway Station is a three-star boutique hotel in Paharganj, roughly 300 metres from New Delhi Railway Station and close to the metro, making it a practical base for those arriving or departing by rail. The hotel is immediately recognisable for its bright white and yellow colour scheme, and cleanliness is clearly a priority — a point that guest reviews mention consistently. Rooms are compact but well-equipped, with air conditioning, flat-screen TVs, blackout curtains, in-room safes and Grohe rain showers in the bathrooms. Free Wi-Fi is available throughout. The hotel has 48 rooms across five room types, an in-house café and restaurant serving Pan-Asian dishes, and a 24-hour front desk. Extras such as iMac stations and a fireplace in the common area add a touch of character. It sits among the bustle of central Delhi, so the surrounding streets are noisy and congested, but for travellers passing through the city the location and value are hard to argue with.
More to Explore
