Here’s why you should visit India’s only resort with eco-cottages set inside the forest

This year, whether it was sheer fortune or a cleverly planned roster, we’ve trailed tigers, wandered jungles and found ourselves month after month in national parks and tiger reserves. And yet, here we were again, off to another unexplored territory, this time in central India, Madhya Pradesh, with an itinerary that promised not one but two parks. We managed to grab the last safari slot before the reserves shut for the monsoon.

In the past, we’ve stayed across the river overlooking two parks, even holidayed at a property within a tiger’s territory. But this time, we went all in — literally. We checked into India’s only resort with eco-cottages set deep inside the forest. Now, you might think: isn’t it the same story? Luxury resorts near buffer zones, highspeed Wi-Fi, fine dining, spas?

Of course, luxury has its charm, though it means different things to different people. But to shake off that monotony, we picked a place where digital detox isn’t a trend — it’s the norm. With no network except the one odd Jio bar, forget WhatsApp; you can’t even make a call or send a text. And downloaded shows? They’re no match for what this place has in store.

Welcome to Rukkad Jungle Camp. Just a five-minute walk from the Rukkad Gate of Pench National Park in Madhya Pradesh, this forest departmentowned retreat offers a slice of paradise for those whose hearts beat to paw prints. At first glance, the reception — doubling up as a restaurant — might not sweep you off your feet, but take our word for it: don’t judge this book by its cover.

Water Palace

Aboard a jeep after check-in, we drove alongside the elevated highway — the first in India built with the law that animals must be able to cross freely — and soon entered the restricted buffer zone, accessible only to hotel guests, forest officials and visitors during safari hours. About fifteen minutes later, with the last bars of network gone, we stopped at a stunning lake carpeted with lotus leaves and blooms. Perched on its edge was our quaint, simple sojourn.

“This is Jal Mahal, ”our guide introduced with a smile. Delighted, we followed him inside and stepped into a cosy wooden cottage. But it was only when he threw open the balcony doors that the true magic revealed itself. From our corner room, we had uninterrupted views of the entire lake, with the forest stretching beyond its far shore. We stood there, spellbound, until the guide gently reminded us that lunch awaited at the machan.

A quick freshen-up later, we were escorted to the treehouse dining area, just a short hop away. From its lofty perch, the view was the sort no photograph or video could ever capture — it wasn’t just about what you saw, but what you heard and felt too. A kingfisher plunged into the water for fish, langurs leapt playfully between branches, a deer called in the distance and lotus flowers drifted serenely below.

Waiting for Bajirao

All was quiet for a few minutes as we sank into bed, ready to crash after lunch — until a sudden, loud, insistent knock at the door jolted us upright. Heart racing, we opened it to find our guide, whispering urgently, “Tiger, tiger, tiger,” while gesturing for us to step out and look. It took a second to register, but when it did, we hurried outside — and there he was. A magnificent cat, calmly sipping water in the distance.

We rushed back for our footwear to edge closer, but by the time we returned, he had already begun his silent ascent back up the hill he had come down. Disappointed, we settled on the ground behind a massive black igneous rock — its lava-carved surface now cradling tall trees — gazing at the same spot where we’d seen him moments before. The guide reassured us in hushed tones: the tiger hadn’t had his fill. He’d been circling this area for days, marking territory and would almost certainly return.

About twenty minutes later, as we sat waiting, our guide began telling us more about him — the tiger, Bajirao, was the largest male in the territory. And then, just as promised, he returned. At first cautious of our watchful eyes, he slowly grew bolder. This time, he didn’t just pad down to the stream for a sip — he waded in and sank into a full bath, soaking for a good thirty-five minutes while we sat in absolute awe.

Bed with a view

It slipped our minds that we were barely 200 metres from him — just across the stream, seated on a rock beneath a tree. He could have leapt at us any moment. But he didn’t. He studied us as intently as we studied him. Then, with unhurried grace, he rose and walked away. We followed and to our amazement, he soon appeared again — this time right in view from our balcony. As he busied himself marking territory, we simply lounged on the bed, watching in quiet disbelief.

We spent the rest of the day gazing at the same spot long after he left — watching deer return, rain breathe life into the jungle and fish ripple into view. Still basking in the surreal joy of having seen a tiger from our own bed, we soon found ourselves back on the road, headed towards Kanha Jungle Camp, which promised more encounters just as unforgettable.

Kanha calling

Kanha was different. No secluded cottages here, but a full-fledged resort complete with buggies, gated areas, a swimming pool, spa and all that jazz. Yet, it hadn’t lost the charm of a jungle stay. The rooms, elevated to resemble treehouses, offered lush green views from every corner. What struck us most, though, was that our no-network streak continued.

There may not have been tigers strolling past our balcony this time, but the resort had something just as captivating — Gond art workshops in the lobby. When we weren’t scribbling in our journals, birdwatching from the balcony, savouring local dishes like khodu rice at the restaurant or heading out on safari — we found ourselves learning Gond painting from a local artist.

Over a couple of days, we painted a tiger from scratch, layering it with the intricate dots, lines and patterns the art form is celebrated for. The result? A tailor-made souvenir, equal parts art and memory, that we’ll cherish forever.

Dear deer

Yet the safari still became the highlight of our stay. Why? Because it was our first time witnessing Barasinghas, the local deer species, in such large numbers, moving gracefully together.

Known as a keystone species of swampy ecosystems, they play a crucial role in seed dispersal and in creating pathways for other animals. As India’s state animal, their very presence symbolises ecological health and the success of conservation efforts that have pulled them back from the brink of extinction caused by poaching and habitat loss.

We also spotted multiple red-headed vultures with their families, tearing into the remains of a carcass — a raw yet powerful reminder of the food chain at work. Then came a moment equal parts painful and unforgettable: a langur, perched above, dropped a mini mango straight into our laps as we drove beneath its tree. It hurt, yes, but in its own way, it felt like the forest had shared something with us.

Wounded tigress

And, of course, the most breathtaking encounter: a tigress. Fresh from a territorial skirmish with her daughter, she carried visible battle scars. We watched in awe as she settled into the water, licking her wounds in quiet resilience — a rare and humbling sight. Before leaving this new state we had only just begun to explore, we squeezed in one last nature-immersive experience — the Bamhani Trail.

Winding deep into the forest, right into the core zones by the river often frequented by big cats, the trail revealed a hidden world of insects and trees along the way. Eventually, we reached the riverbank, where a little high tea picnic awaited us. Our moment, however, was cut short by a sudden downpour. We dashed back to the jeep, laughing and soaked, but secretly loved every second of it. There was something about drenching in the forest rain — it felt fresh, nourishing and alive, so unlike the city showers laced with pollution that leave us ill.

₹17,000 onwards. Nearest airport: Nagpur & Raipur. Nearest railhead: Pench & Nagpur.