[ ITINERARY · THE DISPATCH ]

3 Days in Rishikesh: Yoga, Ganges Rapids, and the Beatles' Ashram Ruins

An honest Rishikesh 3 day itinerary — sunrise yoga that doesn't take itself too seriously, white-water rafting on the Ganges, the graffiti-covered Beatles ashram, and the river ceremony at dusk.

Let me be straight with you before this Rishikesh 3 day itinerary even gets going: Rishikesh is a bit of a contradiction, and that’s exactly why I keep going back. It’s the self-proclaimed yoga capital of the world, full of people Finding Themselves, and also it’s an adventure town where you can throw yourself down Grade III rapids before lunch. It’s deeply spiritual and slightly commercialised, holy and a little hippie-tourist-trap, all at once, strung along the green Ganges where it comes barrelling out of the Himalaya still cold and clear. I came expecting to roll my eyes. I left having done a 6 a.m. yoga class on a rooftop, willingly. So.

Three days. Here’s how I’d play it.

Arrive and just walk. The two halves of traveller Rishikesh — around Ram Jhula and Laxman Jhula — are joined by these swaying pedestrian suspension bridges packed with people, motorbikes (illegally), monkeys (aggressively), and the occasional cow having an existential crisis halfway across. Crossing them is half the fun. Hold your bag tight; the monkeys near Laxman Jhula will absolutely mug you for a water bottle. I’ve seen it. Mine took a banana right out of my hand and looked smug about it.

Spend the afternoon poking around — the riverside ghats, the little temples, the endless shops selling rudraksha beads and harem pants and singing bowls. Have a chai. Watch sadhus and gap-year kids share the same step.

As evening falls, get to Parmarth Niketan ashram for the Ganga Aarti, the river-worship fire ceremony. It’s smaller and gentler than the one in Varanasi — kids from the ashram singing, lamps floating on the water, the sky going pink behind the hills. Sit on the steps. It’s free, it’s lovely, and it doesn’t ask anything of you.

Dinner: the town’s largely vegetarian and alcohol-free (it’s a holy city), which sounds grim and absolutely isn’t. The German Bakery and the various rooftop cafés do great cheap food. The Little Buddha Café for the view, even if the service runs on its own dreamy clock.

Today you get wet. Ganges white-water rafting is the thing to do here and it’s genuinely excellent — cold clean water, big bouncy rapids with names like Roller Coaster and Golf Course, stretches of calm where you can flop off the raft and float. The classic run puts in upstream at Shivpuri (about 16 km) and brings you back down toward town, roughly 2–3 hours on the water. Reckon on 600–1,500 rupees depending on the length and the season.

Book a morning slot. Two reasons: the river’s calmer and the wind hasn’t got up, and the water’s emptier of other rafts. Go with an operator that gives you a proper helmet and life jacket and a safety briefing — most are fine, a few are cowboys, so don’t just pick the cheapest guy on the bridge. Best season is roughly September to November and March to June; the river closes in monsoon. Cliff jumping usually gets bundled in, and yes you should do it, and yes it looks much higher when you’re standing on the edge than from the raft. I dithered for a solid two minutes while my guide patiently counted. Then I jumped. Worth it.

Afternoon: dry off, eat enormously, do nothing. You earned it.

Save the best for last. Chaurasi Kutia — everyone calls it the Beatles Ashram — is where the Fab Four came in 1968 to study transcendental meditation under the Maharishi, and where they wrote a huge chunk of the White Album. It was abandoned for decades, swallowed by jungle, and is now this gorgeously eerie ruin: domed meditation pods like stone igloos, crumbling lecture halls, and walls covered in beautiful Beatles-themed murals and lyrics that artists have added over the years. Entry’s around 600 rupees for foreigners and it’s the most atmospheric thing in town.

Go early, right when it opens (10 a.m.), before the day-trippers. Wander alone. Sit in one of the meditation domes — the acoustics are wild, you can hum a note and feel it go round the dome. I spent two hours there and could’ve stayed all day. The the place has a haunted, hopeful feeling I can’t quite describe and won’t try to ruin.

For your last act, take one actual yoga class. Drop in somewhere small and unfussy — not one of the big factory ashrams flogging teacher-training courses, just a little studio doing a morning hatha session for a few hundred rupees. Even if you, like me, are about as flexible as a deck chair. The point isn’t to be good. The point is doing it here, by the river it all flows from, on a creaky rooftop with the bells going across the valley. Do it badly and proudly.

Three days and Rishikesh sneaks past your cynicism. You’ll leave a bit calmer, a bit braver, and definately humming the White Album.

Raft in the morning, do the Beatles Ashram before the crowds, take one yoga class even if you’re rubbish at it — Rishikesh rewards the version of you that stops eye-rolling and just tries the thing.

This article contains affiliate links marked rel="sponsored". We may earn a commission at no extra cost to you.