I’ve spent upwards of 4 lakhs on luxury resorts in Lonavala over the last three years, and I’m pretty sure half of that was a total scam. If you live in Mumbai or Pune, you know the drill. You get desperate for a break, you see a shiny Instagram ad of a bathtub overlooking a misty valley, and you drop 25k for a Saturday night. Then you get there and the ‘mist’ is just smog from the traffic on the old highway, and your ‘luxury’ room smells faintly of damp socks and old biryani.
The ‘Luxury’ label is basically a lie now
What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently: most luxury in Lonavala is just a 3-star hotel with a better lobby. I’m tired of hotels thinking that putting a Nespresso machine in the room (with only two pods, mind you) justifies a 300% markup. I once stayed at a place—I won’t name names yet, but it rhymes with ‘The Shmachan’—where I paid for a ‘forest view’ and spent the whole evening listening to the neighbor’s kids screaming in the next treehouse. The walls were thinner than a sheet of paper. There is no privacy. You are paying to live in a very expensive, very humid birdcage.
I know people will disagree with me on this. Everyone loves the ‘eco-friendly’ vibe. But I’m sorry, if I’m paying five-star prices, I don’t want to share my bathroom with a lizard the size of a paratha. Call me spoiled, I don’t care. Real luxury is about maintenance, and Lonavala resorts are historically terrible at it because of the monsoon. The rain eats these buildings alive. If the staff isn’t repainting and dehumidifying every single week, the place turns into a swamp within a month. I actually brought a cheap hygrometer with me to a resort last July and it clocked 88% humidity inside the room. My bedsheets felt literally wet. Total nightmare.
The truth is, most ’boutique’ places in Lonavala are just passion projects for rich people who don’t know how to run a kitchen.
The time I got lost at Hilton Shillim
I have a specific bone to pick with the massive ‘wellness’ retreats. A few years ago, I booked a stay at the Hilton Shillim. It’s beautiful, sure. But it’s also a logistical disaster. I remember trying to get from my villa to the dining area for dinner. It was raining—obviously, it’s Lonavala—and the ‘buggy’ service told me there was a 40-minute wait. I decided to walk. The signage was so ‘minimalist’ and ‘aesthetic’ that it was completely useless. I ended up wandering near some staff quarters in the dark, soaking wet, crying a little bit because I just wanted a glass of wine and some dal tadka. I looked like a drowned rat. The staff eventually found me and looked at me like I was insane. That’s not luxury. That’s an endurance test.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, size doesn’t equal quality.
The Machan is overrated and I’m tired of pretending it’s not
I might be wrong about this, but I think The Machan has the best marketing and the most mediocre actual experience in the Western Ghats. I refuse to go back. I’ve been twice—once because I thought the first time was a fluke. It wasn’t. The ‘forest’ is basically just some scrubland, and the climb up to the rooms is a chore if you aren’t a mountain goat. Plus, the food is aggressively average. Why am I paying 30k to eat buffet food that tastes like a corporate cafeteria in Hinjewadi? It makes no sense. I actively tell my friends to avoid it if they actually want to relax rather than just take photos for the ‘gram.
If you want real luxury, you go to Rhythm or Della.
Della is tacky. Let’s be honest. It’s got lions and gold statues and it looks like a Vegas fever dream. But—and this is a big but—it works. The service is tight. The water pressure is actually good. The food is expensive but actually tastes like something. I used to think Della was for people with more money than taste. I was completely wrong. It’s for people who want a predictable, high-quality experience without the ‘eco’ excuses for why the AC isn’t working.
The dampness test: How to tell if you’re being fleeced
Before you book any luxury resort in Lonavala, you need to check the ‘age’ of the most recent Google photos. Don’t look at the professional ones. Look at the ones taken by guests in the last 30 days. Look at the corners of the ceiling. If you see even a hint of black mold, skip it. I’ve found that the older, established places like Fariyas actually handle this better than the new ‘luxury’ villas. Fariyas looks like a 90s Bollywood set, but it’s clean. It’s maintained. It’s honest about what it is.
- Check the AC units: If they are window units, it’s not luxury. Period.
- The Breakfast Test: I timed the omelet station at three different ‘5-star’ spots last year. Average wait time was 12 minutes. That’s a failure.
- The Smell: If the lobby smells like lemongrass, they are hiding the smell of mold.
I’ve realized that I’m irrationally loyal to Rhythm Ekaant lately. It’s not the flashiest, but they actually seem to care if you’re comfortable. I’ve stayed there three times in the last year and the consistency is what wins. They don’t try to be a ‘forest retreat’ or a ‘wellness sanctuary.’ They’re just a good hotel in a nice location. Worth every penny.
I honestly don’t know why we keep going back to Lonavala when Karjat and Mulshi are right there and half the price. Maybe it’s just the habit. Or maybe we’re all just suckers for the idea of a hill station, even if the hill is covered in plastic bottles and overpriced resorts. I’ll probably book another place next month anyway. I never learn.
Go to Rhythm. Skip the treehouses.
