I’d honestly forgotten how much I loved the rain. Then I found myself watching it streak down our hotel room windows in Darjeeling, turning the hills outside into this dreamy watercolour blur. What was supposed to be just a quick weekend getaway ended up being… well, exactly what we didn’t know we needed.

We got there maybe twenty minutes before the clouds rolled in which were thick, heavy ones that meant business. And then boom, the whole world just vanished into mist. I remember standing there thinking we’d gotten unlucky with the weather, but something weird happened. All that background noise in my head about the work stress, the usual chaos, it just… quieted down. Like the mist had swallowed that too.

The room was ridiculous in the best way. Heated floors (thank God), these warm amber lights everywhere, gorgeous old wood that probably had stories to tell. And the windows, they basically turned the fog into living art. I grabbed this incredibly soft throw, my partner made us some proper Darjeeling tea, and we just sat there. When’s the last time you actually just sat somewhere without scrolling through your phone?

Sterling Darjeeling gets it, you know? They don’t treat monsoon season like it’s something to apologize for. It’s like they built the whole experience around it. We booked a couples massage at their spa, and I swear the combination of lemongrass oil and actual rainfall as background music was better than any playlist I’ve ever made. The massage was great, but honestly? Just lying there listening to the rain was half the therapy.

Later we ended up in this little café corner with board games and the most sinful brownies I’ve had in months. Yellow lamps, books everywhere, windows fogging up and it felt like being inside a cozy secret. Every now and then the clouds would part just enough to give us these glimpses of the valley that made you catch your breath. But when they didn’t? We were perfectly happy in our little bubble.

Don’t get me wrong, we didn’t become complete hermits. Between the heavier downpours, we’d venture out with our umbrellas. Glenary’s for warm pastries (their croissants are dangerous), hunting for local crafts in tiny shops that felt like treasure hunts, even a quick visit to Mahakal Temple where the prayer flags looked magical fluttering in the drizzle. The toy train chugging through the mist looked like something from a movie ,one of those old romantic ones your grandmother loves.

The tea estates were something else entirely. All wet and gleaming, with this hushed quality that made you want to whisper. We did a tasting right there, steam rising from our cups mixing with the mist. It’s cheesy to say, but it felt sacred somehow.

One night we decided to be completely lazy and ordered dessert to the room, this local chocolate lava cake thing with cinnamon tea from Delicaci that was basically a warm hug in food form. We sat there watching the fog wrap around the hills like a slow-motion dance, and the quiet wasn’t empty. It was full of little sounds of woodsmoke, distant voices, the building settling into the damp.

I keep thinking about how restorative it was. Not just romantic (though it definitely was that) but actually healing. Like hitting a reset button, you didn’t know you had.

The Sterling staff were pretty brilliant about the whole thing too. They’d appear with warm towels after we’d been out in the drizzle, little snack trays when the afternoon energy dipped, and get this they gave us a “monsoon chill kit” with board games, essential oils, and curated playlists. It’s those tiny touches that make you feel like someone actually thought about your comfort.

If you’re thinking about Darjeeling during monsoon season, don’t let the weather scare you off. Whether you’re a couple needing to reconnect or just someone who needs to remember what stillness feels like, this is luxury that actually makes sense. Come for the mist, stay for the magic of slowing down.