“Are you sure about this? Traveling with your 89-year-old grandma to one of the most chaotic countries in the world seems like quite a challenge…”
Two months ago, I embarked on the most impactful adventure of my life: traveling through India for four weeks, not alone, but with my 89-year-old grandma. Travel has always been a deep passion of mine, so much so that I’ve always felt the urge to explore as much as possible while I’m still young and able to. At least, that’s what I used to think…
I’m very aware that not every 89-year-old grandmother can take on a journey like this. After all, it’s far from a typical vacation where you spend your days relaxing by the beach. I’ve visited many countries, but I’ve never experienced a place as intense as India. A lot of people have asked me why I describe it that way, and honestly, it’s hard to explain until you’ve witnessed it yourself. That’s exactly why I chose to fully live every moment, soak in every part of the culture, and embrace the chaos and unpredictability that came with it.
Why India?
Before diving into the story, let me give you a bit more context about myself. I grew up surrounded by Indian culture, as my dad’s side of the family is Indian. Some of my best childhood memories are the sleepovers at my grandma’s house. She would cook the most delicious Indian meals, and we’d end the evening watching Bollywood movies together. I completely fell in love with the culture and had always dreamed of visiting India one day with my grandma.
Over the years, we kept talking about visiting India together, but it never seemed like the right time. Naturally, as time went on, my grandma got older and chances of us being able to do this trip together slimmed. Until a few months ago, when I picked up the phone, called my grandma, and told her: “We need to make a plan. Otherwise, it might be too late.” To my surprise, she happily responded that she was ready to go whenever I was. So I started making arrangements with work, checking flight options, and putting together a list of the places we wanted to see.
India, here we come!
We started off our trip in the capital: New Delhi. The moment I walked out of the airport I was already quite struck by all the noise surrounding me. On our way to the hotel, I noticed just how chaotic the traffic was: cars driving just centimeters apart, honking non-stop, cows casually strolling down the middle of busy streets, and children knocking on car windows asking for money during traffic jams. It was my first real taste of India, and I have to admit; it caught me a little off guard. When I got out of the car, I was overwhelmed by how dirty the streets were. Stray dogs roamed freely, trash was piled on the streets, electrical cables hung low and tangled, and people stared at us like we were from another world.
As you can read, the first few days were tough… I constantly felt dirty, was nervous walking alone on the streets, and had to adjust to the way most men looked at me, like they were starving and I was the meal, so to speak…
After two days, we headed to Agra, also known as the city of love. And honestly, I don’t think they could have come up with a more fitting name. The moment I laid eyes on the Taj Mahal, I fell in love. This was the India I had always dreamed of, and now I could finally see it with my own eyes.
From Agra, we made our way to our next stop: Ranthambore National Park. I’ve always wanted to see a tiger in its natural habitat, so we booked a jeep safari. While we were on the road, my grandma began sharing stories from her childhood; times when tigers still roamed freely through the village where she lived. She told me how she used to live in a small hut and wasn’t allowed to leave it after dark, because the risk of being attacked by a tiger was very real. And there we were, decades later, together in a jeep, trying to spot one of these majestic creatures, this time not in fear, but in awe. I can only imagine how strangely this must have felt for my grandma and I was not sure if she was going to enjoy it, but the moment we laid eyes on this queen of the jungle; a 17 year old female tiger, both me and my grandma gasped. It was honestly such a magical experience and my grandma was able to change her view by seeing the beauty in them for the first time in her life.
After Ranthambore, we continued our journey through the cities of Pushkar, Jodhpur, and Jaipur. We wandered through stunning temples, vibrant markets, and narrow local streets bursting with life. Alongside all the beauty, however, we were also confronted with difficult realities; intense poverty, animals suffering on the streets, and the pollution. It’s so difficult to form an opinion about India as a country, since there is such a big contrast in beauty and hardship.
That contrast reached its peak when we arrived in one of the oldest and most spiritual cities in the world: Varanasi. I have seen things in Varanasi that I am unable to forget because it had such a great impact. Public cremations took place along the Ganges River, fully visible, with every part of the process exposed. Human bones were thrown into the same river where people bathe every morning, where hotel bed sheets are washed, and where sacred rituals unfold daily. I know it may sound disturbing, and in many ways, it was, but strangely enough, I didn’t experience it as something negative. In fact, Varanasi was the city I appreciated most out of all we visited. The intensity of it, the richness of its culture, and the unapologetic way life and death coexist was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
It truly opened my eyes to how different people live across the world. But I also had to consciously shift my mindset, to observe without judgment, to learn instead of recoil. If I hadn’t, I think some of the things I witnessed could have easily left me quite traumatized.
This is what I wanted though, to see every part of it; the good and the bad. After Varanasi, I made it my goal to try to see the good in the bad: by understanding the culture, focusing on the beautiful souls we encountered rather than the people who treated us with little respect, and reminding myself of how incredibly grateful I should be for everything I have.
Going South
The good came when we continued our journey to the south of India. The moment I exited the plane, I felt like I could breathe again. You can feel the difference in air-quality compared to the north of the country. Our first stop was Kerala, and for the first time during the trip, I felt peace. The chaos was gone. I was surrounded by lush greenery, calm backwaters, and a quietness I hadn’t experienced in what felt like an eternity.
From Kerala, we traveled further north to visit family and return to the roots of my grandma. We arrived in Mangalore, the city where she was born. We went from house to house to visit the family we had left there. One of my favorite moments happened when we visited a home in the middle of nowhere, tucked away in a quiet, almost mystical jungle. I felt an overwhelming urge to explore it. What I noticed, though, is that many people in India live with a deep sense of fear, a fear that often prevents them from appreciating the beauty around them. And it’s understandable. Indian forests aren’t like the ones we know in Europe, they’re home to venomous snakes, giant spiders, and other dangers. However, they are also filled with miraculous life. No one could stop me from entering. I took my camera with me and stepped into the forest, capturing the vibrant creatures I came across. They had such bright colours and for me were spectacular. When leaving the forest and showing this to the rest, they couldn’t understand the joy it brought me; ‘’it’s just a dragonfly’’ they said. Of course they did not mean this negative and they were super happy that I was happy, they just couldn’t understand the reason behind it.
The following days we spent a lot of time with them, they took us to beautiful places and I felt so welcome with them. My grandma also couldn’t be happier spending all this time with her family and showing me the place and house she grew up in. Our journey became a living memory, filled with storytelling, and connection. Seeing India not just through my eyes, but through hers, made it all the more special.
Reality check
When we arrived in Goa, it almost felt like we had left India for a while. The atmosphere was completely different, so much more touristy and it felt more like my ‘normal’. People were walking around in bikinis, lounging on the beach, and no one seemed to bat an eye. In other parts of India, revealing clothing is not something people are used to. The moment you wear anything that exposes even a bit of skin, you become the center of attention, both men and women can’t seem to take their eyes off you.
We had a nice hotel next to the beach that even offered non-India food. Don’t get me wrong, the Indian food was incredible, but after having it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for two weeks straight, it became a bit overwhelming. So, I welcomed the break and was ready for some proper relaxation. Or at least, that’s what I thought.
I put on my bikini and headed to the sea for a swim. While I was in the water, I noticed a group of six Indian guys around my age approaching the beach. They decided to have a photoshoot right in front of me, with me in the background. I felt uncomfortable to walk out directly in front of them, so I swam sideways and exited the sea from a different spot. I looked back at them and noticed one of the guys quickly shifting his phone as soon as our eyes met. At this point in the trip, I had already experienced so many situations that forced me to stand up for myself, so I didn’t care anymore. I walked up to the group and asked one of them to show me his camera roll. It was filled with photos of me in my bikini: zoomed-in shots of me in the background, and even photos of me walking out of the sea. I politely asked them to delete every single picture and thankfully they did. But the place where I finally felt safe and like I had nothing to worry about, did not feel like that anymore. I was exhausted from constantly having to defend myself. It’s incredibly tiring to always be on guard. This incident made something very clear to me: how little respect many Indian men have for women. Throughout the trip, I had been touched in crowds, photographed without consent, and looked at as if I was an object. I’d say 99% of the men I encountered either looked at me in a sexualized way or treated me with little to no respect.
Our last stop was Mumbai. We stayed there for ten days; shopping, visiting more family, and ending our journey with something I’ll never forget: visiting one of the largest slums in the world, Dharavi. If I thought I had seen poverty before, I quickly realized I had only scratched the surface. You might know the movie Slumdog Millionaire, a film I definitely recommend. One of its scenes takes place in the Dharavi slums, so I had a certain image in mind of what to expect. But being there in real life was nothing like I imagined.
The streets, if you can even call them that, were more like narrow alleys, filled with dirt and trash, worse than anywhere else I had seen in India. There was barely any daylight, as the homes were stacked tightly on top of each other, creating a dark maze. And yet, what was most noticeable to me was not the poverty, but the spirit of the people. Unlike other parts of India, almost everyone I encountered in the slums was smiling. Children were chasing each other through the tiny pathways, trying to find objects on the floors that they could use as toys. An elderly woman sat at a step outside, greeting every passerby with a warm smile. Men were cooking on the streets, laughing and joking with one another. Several people asked me to take their picture, not to ask for money, but simply because they liked the idea of being photographed. It was inspiring to see how people who lived in the worst part of the country seemed the most genuine, warm and authentic of all.
After this, it was time for us to go back home. I was so happy to return to my life, carrying with me all the lessons, emotions, and perspectives I had gained during this unforgettable journey.
How do I look back at this adventure?
Overall, I’m incredibly grateful that I got to experience this journey together with my grandma. We got to know each other 10 times better. We spent so much quality time together, shared many laughs, and yes, even had the occasional argument… but we always made up. She reminded me that I still have an entire life ahead of me, filled with endless possibilities. I have the freedom to do anything I like which has created so much appreciation.
Even though there were definitely some tough moments, I’ve noticed that now I can tell those stories with a smile, or even a laugh. Looking back, I see the whole journey as one big, life-changing learning experience.
I want to end this story with one piece of advice for everyone my age who still has their grandparents around: spend time with them. Learn from their mistakes, their stories, and their wisdom, because one day, it’ll be too late. I’m not saying you need to plan a one-month adventure across the world (though if you can, do it!). But even a one-hour visit can make their entire week. :)
