Rishikesh has been a yoga town since the 1960s, when the Beatles came to study with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi at his ashram on the riverbank. Today the town is a strange overlay: serious sadhus, serious yogis, gap-year travellers in elephant pants, and an upper crust of high-end retreats hidden in the hills above the river.
I went for five days at one of those retreats — phone surrendered at the door, daily meditation at 5am, vegetarian only.
The schedule
- 5:00 — Wake bell, herbal tea
- 5:30 — Pranayama and meditation
- 6:30 — Asana practice (90 min)
- 8:30 — Breakfast in silence
- 10:00 — Ayurveda treatment or rest
- 12:30 — Lunch (the main meal)
- 4:00 — Yoga philosophy class
- 5:30 — Asana practice (60 min)
- 7:00 — Dinner
- 9:00 — Lights out
The first 48 hours are the hardest
Caffeine withdrawal is real. So is the part of your brain that wants to check your phone every six minutes. Both passed by Day 3.
By the fourth day I was sleeping eight hours straight, waking at 4:50 without an alarm, and not interested in food beyond what was on the plate.
What surprised me
The food. I expected to be hungry — instead, the small portions of dal, rice, vegetables and ghee left me satisfied for hours. Whatever the ayurvedic chefs are doing, the body responds.
The other surprise was how social an asocial retreat can be. You don't talk during meals. You don't talk during practice. But by Day 3 you've nodded to thirty people and you know who limps in tree pose and who's secretly napping in shavasana, and that turns out to be enough.
The one rule everyone breaks
Phones. The retreat asks you to surrender it on arrival; about a third of the guests don't, and end up sneaking off behind the meditation hall to check email. Don't be those guests. Hand it over. The whole point is the hard reset.
