Look, I’ll be straight with you, I didn’t plan this trip. My back was killing me from hunching over spreadsheets, my sleep was garbage, and my idea of cardio had become speed-walking to catch the local train. When my friend Priya suggested we ditch the city for some “hill therapy,” I figured why not. Worst case scenario, I’d get some decent Instagram shots.

Turns out, the Aravallis had other plans for me.

We drove out from Udaipur and about an hour of dodging auto-rickshaws and cattle before the landscape opened up into something that made me actually put my phone down.

We started with what I optimistically called a “sunrise run” to Ubeshwar Ji temple. In reality, it was more like a wheezing jog-walk hybrid, punctuated by frequent photo breaks (for the views, obviously). But here’s the thing, about halfway up, something shifted. Maybe it was the complete absence of honking horns, or the way the morning light turned everything golden, but suddenly my breathing settled into this rhythm I’d forgotten existed.

The temple itself is small, nothing fancy, but the caretaker uncle there made us chai that tasted like liquid sunshine. We sat on the steps, watching the valley wake up below, and I realized this was the first time in months I’d been somewhere without cell service and didn’t panic about it.

Later, we joined this guided trek to Pipliya Ji. Our guide, Ravi, was one of those guys who knows every bird call and can spot a leopard print from a kilometer away (thankfully, we only saw peacocks). The trail wasn’t particularly challenging, but standing on that ridge, looking out over layers of hills fading into the distance hit different. Made my quarterly targets seem pretty silly in comparison.

On the second day, rock climbing at Badi Lake sounded way more hardcore than it actually was. The instructors were these chill guys who made sure we weren’t going to die while still pushing us out of our comfort zones. I made it maybe eight feet up before my arms gave out, but even hanging there, laughing at my own incompetence, felt like winning.

Here’s what surprised me most in the whole trip that the downtime was just as good as the adventure time. There’s something about floating in that pool, hills reflected in the water, that makes you feel like you’re in some parallel universe where stress doesn’t exist.

The sunset workouts on the lawn became my favourite ritual. Nothing intense, just stretching and basic bodyweight stuff while the sky put on a show. I met this couple from Bangalore who were doing the same thing which was trying to remember what their bodies were actually designed for beyond sitting in office chairs.

Evenings meant the rooftop terrace, cold beer, and swapping stories with whoever else had ended up there. There was this freelance photographer who’d been living nomad-style for six months, and a software engineer from Delhi who’d taken a sabbatical to figure out what came next. Good people, real conversations.

Did I transform into some zen mountain person? Hardly. I still checked my phone too much and complained about the early wake-up calls. But something definitely shifted. My shoulders dropped about two inches from where they usually live. I slept without melatonin for the first time in ages. And when I got back to the city, I actually looked forward to my morning run instead of dreading it.

Sterling Aravalli gets it right; they don’t try to manufacture some fake adventure experience. The place works because it gives you space to figure out your own version of what feels good. Whether that’s crushing a technical climb or just reading a book by the pool with hills as your backdrop.

If you’re thinking about this kind of trip, stop overthinking it. You don’t need to be a fitness freak or have Instagram-worthy gear. You just need to be tired enough of your regular routine to try something different. The Aravallis will meet you wherever you are – whether you’re chasing PRs or just chasing your breath.

Fair warning though: you might come back with this annoying habit of actually enjoying physical activity. Consider yourself warned.