First Look: Inside the New Grand Tented Pool Pavilions at Aman-i-Khas, Ranthambore

This was not my first visit to Ranthambore, but it was my first time surrendering entirely to stillness. It took countless attempts to plan my trip to Aman-i-Khas, including a last-minute cancellation on the eve of departure. So when the team at the tented safari camp invited me to visit during the working week—something I would ordinarily avoid, reserving travel for weekends when email notifications do not ring incessantly—I couldn’t say no.

My editor offered just one line of encouragement: “It’ll be truly special.” It proved to be an understatement.

The pampering began roughly 300 kilometres away, at my doorstep. Doubling as an accidental alarm, a call from an unknown number informed me that my driver had arrived for the pick-up—well ahead of schedule. “An hour earlier than scheduled—talk about being prompt!” I thought, still half-asleep.

Road Trip to Serenity

Waiting outside was a gleaming Land Rover Discovery, its silhouette unmistakable even in the steadily increasing traffic. This was not going to be an ordinary road trip, I quickly realised.

At the wheel was Jagdish ji—soft-spoken, immaculately dressed, and smiling with a gleam in his eyes, in sharp contrast to my groggy self. Within minutes, my luggage was stowed away, the doors shut with reassuring heft, and the city began to recede in the rear-view mirror. As we pulled out, he offered a polite nod and a simple assurance: we would reach comfortably, with a tea stop en route if I wished.

A neatly arranged jar of smoked almonds, fresh cookies, and a choice of chilled or warm bottled water rendered breaks almost unnecessary. A notepad inscribed with the resort’s name, multi-plug chargers, and soft towels to shield against the sun made the journey even more comfortable. But it was Jagdish ji who truly set the tone. He adjusted the temperature before I asked, checking in just enough to ensure I was at ease, and weaving in light conversation—spanning history, politics, and even spirituality—to keep the journey engaging. The otherwise four-hour drive passed far quicker than anticipated (and no, speeding was not the reason!).

By the time we turned onto the final stretch towards Aman-i-Khas, the surroundings had grown quieter and more rural — a clear sign that we were close. Minimal, almost missable signboards discreetly marked the way.

Aman-i-Khas: First Impressions

Set on the fringes of Ranthambore National Park in Sawai Madhopur, Rajasthan, Aman-i-Khas is deliberately intimate in scale. The camp now comprises 14 tented pavilions—up from 10 prior to its most recent annual seasonal closure—spread generously across the scrubland to ensure privacy and uninterrupted views of the wilderness.

Beyond the guest pavilions, the camp functions almost like a discreet, off-grid resort. Every stay includes full board, along with morning group yoga sessions and nightly laundry service. Three dedicated communal tents anchor the property: the Dining Tent, serving regional, Indian, and international cuisine crafted with produce from the camp’s organic garden; the Lounge Tent, complete with a library; and the Spa Tent, which houses twin massage tables across two treatment spaces. At the heart of the camp lies a traditional stepwell-style swimming pool, framed by a shaded terrace and a central sunken firepit.

It is within this carefully considered ecosystem that the camp’s latest evolution sits. The expansion introduces one new Tented Pool Pavilion and three Grand Tented Pool Pavilions, one of which would be mine for the next few nights.

But before I could explore my tent, Shekhawat introduced me to one key person: my batman.

Now, if my pop-culture knowledge was anything to go by, I was momentarily hoping for a caped crusader. Instead, I was met with something far more fitting for the setting. In the context of heritage camps and royal hunting traditions, a batman is a personal attendant—a quiet, ever-present figure responsible for ensuring one’s stay runs seamlessly.

This wasn’t Christian Bale emerging from the greens; it was a young lad named Sparsh. From the moment we met, Sparsh struck a careful balance between attentiveness and discretion. He led me to my room, pointing out small details along the way—how the tents were spaced to ensure privacy, the path to the secret dining spot under the stars, the outdoor nook for guided yoga sessions, and, my favourite, a spot overlooking a man-made lake-cum-marsh pit, alive with cooing birds.

Inside The Grand Tented Pool Pavilions at Aman-i-Khas, Ranthambore

Stepping into my pavilion, the scale of the space became immediately apparent. At 256 square metres, the Grand Tented Pool Pavilion is the largest accommodation category in camp, closer in proportion to a grand hotel suite than a traditional safari tent. From the outside, it maintains Aman’s signature canvas making; inside, however, it unfolds generously. A king-sized bedroom sits under a soaring canopy, accompanied by twin writing desks and a central sunken living area that naturally divides lounging and relaxation spaces. A separate dining area allows for private meals, while the bathroom impresses with a corner bathtub, rain shower, walk-in wardrobe, and a separate toilet. The floors, all made of natural materials like stone and mud, are heated. And if that wasn’t enough, a private patio with sunbathing loungers and a heated swimming pool adds a sense of grandeur, extending the living space into the heart of the surrounding wilderness.

I sank into the sun lounger on my private patio, letting the heat of the late afternoon sun warm my shoulders. To my surprise, Fiza from the resort’s spa pavilion came over with a thoughtful gesture. “We offer complimentary foot massages to every guest at check-in,” she said. As she kneaded my feet with gentle care, for the first time since leaving the city, the hum of traffic was replaced by the distant calls of birds and the soft rustle of the surrounding trees. I could get used to this.

Feeling unexpectedly energised, I decided to explore the camp beyond the canvas walls of my pavilion. Pathways carved through the scrubland stretched ahead of me, with low lanterns lining the trails, ready to cast a soft glow as night fell.

I spent the rest of my days immersed in the campsite rather than venturing out into town. I feasted on delicious regional fare—special shout-out to the mirchi vadas and silbatta chutney, absolute bangers—watched local artisans crafts lac bangles, pet farm animals like goat and bunnies, surrendered to an hour-long Aman signature spa session, soaked in my in-room plunge pool carved from natural stone, and lazed beneath the night sky in my heated pool, reluctant to be anywhere else.

In truth, the Grand Tented Pool Pavilion became my favourite place to be. Between visits to the nearby fort and spa appointments, I found myself gravitating back to its stillness. And thanks to Sparsh, each time I returned, my bed was readied without request—warmed with a hot water bottle under the sheets, my book placed neatly by the bedside, and the lights dimmed to a soft, ambient glow. Before I could think to ask, everything had already been considered, down to the slippers by my bed.

While Aman-i-Khas has undoubtedly elevated its pavilion offering, it was the warmth of the hospitality that shone brightest. Thanks to the team, I discovered that stillness can, in fact, be the most memorable adventure of all.