Indien

Separated from fertile Lahaul by the soaring 4551m Kunzum Pass, the trans-Himalayan region of Spiti is another chunk of Tibet marooned within India, a kind of 'mini-Ladakh' with fewer tourists. The scattered villages in this serrated moonscape arrive like mirages while the turquoise-grey ribbon of the Spiti River is your near-constant companion, albeit sometimes way below in precipitous gorges.

With spectacular snowy peaks and plunging river valleys, beautiful Himachal is India’s outdoor adventure playground. From trekking and climbing to rafting, paragliding and skiing, if it can be done in the mountains, it can be done here. A convoluted topography of interlocking mountain chains also makes Himachal a spectacular place simply to explore, by bus, car, motorbike, jeep or foot. Every pass crossing into a new valley brings you into a different culture, with its own deities and language. Villages perched on staggering slopes enchant with fairy-tale architecture and residents' easygoing warmth. Hill stations appeal with a holiday atmosphere, while backpacker magnets lure with chilled-out vibes and mountain beauty. In the Dalai Lama's home-away-from-home, McLeod Ganj, or in remote Lahaul and Spiti with their centuries-old Buddhist cultures, you might wonder whether you've inadvertently stumbled into Tibet.

Välkommen in i en myllrande verkstad som upptar en hel stadsdel i norra Kolkata. I Kumortuli ser man vidden av festivaler, firanden och den indiska gudavärlden – här tillverkas nämligen skulpturer för hinduismens miljoner gudar och att vandra genom kvarter och gränder är konstnärligt och kulturellt häpnadsväckande.

India’s third-largest city is a daily festival of human existence, simultaneously noble and squalid, cultured and desperate, decidedly futuristic though still in transition. By its old spelling, Calcutta readily conjures images of human suffering to most Westerners – although that's not a complete picture of this 330-year-old metropolis. Locally, Kolkata is regarded as India’s intellectual, artistic and cultural capital. Although poverty is certainly apparent, the self-made middle class drives the city's core machinery, a nascent hipster culture thrives among its millennial residents and its dapper Bengali gentry frequent grand colonial-era clubs.

With mountain adventures beckoning from all directions, Manali is a year-round magnet. Backpackers are well catered for in parts of Vashisht and Old Manai where numerous agents offer trekking, climbing, rafting and skiing according to season. Meanwhile, so many Indian families and honeymooners come for a first taste of snow that greater Manali now has an estimated 800 to 1000 hotels and guesthouses. Tight-packed resort buildings already fill the town center and are now steadily devouring former orchard terraces as far south as once-rustic Prini village. But while the whole area gets jam-packed in season (mid-April to mid-July, mid-September to mid-October, and over Christmas–New Year), it doesn't take too much effort to get off the main tourist trail. And in November, clear skies plus slashed prices make Manali a bargain – if you can handle the cold and the closure of some restaurants.

Welcome to the lush Western Ghats, some of the most precious heat relief in India. Rising like an impassable bulwark of evergreen and deciduous tangle, from north of Mumbai to the tip of Tamil Nadu, the World Heritage–listed Ghats (with an average elevation of 915m) contain 27% of India’s flowering plant species and an incredible array of endemic wildlife. In Tamil Nadu they rise to over 2000m in the Palani Hills around Kodaikanal and the Nilgiris around Ooty. British influence lingers a little stronger up in these hills, where colonialists built 'hill stations' to escape the sweltering plains and covered slopes in neatly trimmed tea plantations. It’s not just the air and (relative) lack of pollution that’s refreshing – there’s a certain acceptance of quirkiness and eccentricity here. Expect organic farms, handlebar-moustached trekking guides and leopard-print earmuffs.

Bundi is a captivating town of narrow lanes of Brahmin-blue houses with a temple at every turn. There are fascinating step-wells, reflective lakes, and colorful bazaars. Dominating Bundi is a fantastical palace of faded parchment cupolas and loggias rising from the hills behind the town. Though an increasingly popular traveler hang-out, Bundi attracts nothing like the tourist crowds of places such as Jaipur or Udaipur. Few places in Rajasthan retain so much of the magical atmosphere of centuries past.

Founded in 1577 by the fourth Sikh guru, Guru Ram Das, Amritsar is home to the spectacular Golden Temple, Sikhism's holiest shrine and one of India’s most serene and humbling sights. The hyperactive streets surrounding the temple have been calmed to some extent by recent urban landscaping, including graceful pedestrianised walkways, but duck into any side alley and you’ll soon discover Amritsar’s fantastically frenetic old-city bazaars, sheltering a sensory overload of sights, sounds and smells.

The magical allure of the Taj Mahal draws tourists to Agra like moths to a wondrous flame. And despite the hype, it’s every bit as good as you’ve heard. But the Taj is not a stand-alone attraction. The legacy of the Mughal empire has left a magnificent fort and a liberal sprinkling of fascinating tombs and mausoleums, and there’s also fun to be had in the bustling chowks (marketplaces).

Dharamsala (also spelled Dharamshala) is known as the home of the Dalai Lama, though in fact the Tibetan spiritual leader is based about two miles up the hill in McLeod Ganj, and that's where most visitors are heading. Dharamsala proper is a market town mostly useful for bus connections.