From The Latest Issue: In Search Of Petrichor: The Indian Destinations Redefining Monsoon Travel

Petrichor, the smell of the earth after the first rain, is the harbinger of monsoon in India. While many travellers tend to avoid this time of the year because of the unpredictable weather, the rainy season can actually be one of the best seasons to travel, and the numbers are beginning to prove it.

For years, monsoon has been associated with the off-season. That means lower airfares, better hotel deals, and fewer crowds. But what many people don’t realise is that what was once the season to sit out has become the season to seek out. According to Zostel’s booking data for June 2026, mountain properties across their network have seen a year-on-year seven to nine per cent rise in bookings, with Shimla alone recording a 76 per cent jump and emerging destinations like Srinagar, Tirthan Valley, and Gangtok clocking close to 95 per cent incremental growth in footfall.

What makes this year’s monsoon travel story particularly interesting is the way people are planning their trips. Zostel data depicts that nearly 48 per cent of mountain bookings were made within three days of departure, signalling a rise in spontaneous travel rather than months of advance planning. The trend is also spreading beyond India’s biggest metropolitan cities. Based on the current booking and search trends, these are the destinations that are topping travellers’ monsoon wishlists, and here are the reasons why they are worth visiting this season.

Shimla: The Queen Of Hills

Anyone who has visited Shimla in the summer months knows the version they don't want to return to. A crowded Mall Road, long queues at every café, traffic inching across the narrow lanes—the mountain town gets buried under the burden of its own popularity. The monsoon rewrites all of that. The deodar forests turn a shade of green so saturated it almost looks artificial, clouds drift low enough to swallow entire hillsides, and Chadwick Falls, a trickle in drier months, roars back to life between July and September. In fact, Shimla during the monsoon is not only cheaper but also calmer and considerably more itself.

Walk the Ridge on a grey monsoon morning, and you will barely recognise it. The same stretch that turns into a mela in May, with jostling shoulders and ice cream queues, becomes something close to a private promenade, with the mist sitting heavy over the colonial buildings. You can take a walk along Lovers Lane, a winding road through oak and conifer above Raj Bhavan, without a destination in mind. Those looking for more terrain can follow the trail through Glen Forest or climb toward Tara Devi Temple, both of which get muddier and moodier in the rain, and are rewarding if you come with the right footwear. Water levels on the Sutlej rise enough to make river rafting viable, and the day hikes around Kufri and Naldehra are at their most cinematic state when the fog comes in low.

When the rain gets heavier, the best thing to do is eat. Pull up at any stall on Mall Road or Lakkar Bazaar and order babru, a black gram-stuffed, deep-fried bread that arrives crisp and hot, best eaten with tamarind chutney and strong tea while rain pours down the corrugated roof outside. Siddu, a steamed wheat bun filled with crushed walnuts and poppy seeds, is the more labour-intensive and more rewarding; eat it with ghee or mutton curry at a local dhaba. And then there is thukpa—noodle soup with vegetables and Tibetan spices, which belongs to this weather completely. Order it somewhere near the Ridge and eat it slowly.

How to Reach: Chandigarh is the nearest major airport. Volvo buses and taxis connect the city from Delhi and Chandigarh, and you can take a train to Kalka and continue on the heritage Toy Train.

Travel Tip: Start road trips early—mountain roads get slippery during heavy showers, and delays are common. Carry a rain jacket and sturdy footwear, and build some flexibility into the day.

Srinagar: Valley Of Dreams

Kashmir experiences monsoon differently from the rest of India. While much of the country is defined by weeks of heavy rain, Srinagar receives milder showers that are sporadic and arrive in short bursts, adding texture to the terrain. By July, the crowds that flock to Srinagar in spring and early summer begin to thin, leaving behind less busy streets, fruit-laden apple orchards, and a calmer Dal Lake. The city offers a closer glimpse of the Kashmir beyond the postcard-perfect tulip gardens and peak-season crowds.

Dal Lake is the best place to experience that shift. Early mornings are particularly magical, when shikaras glide across still waters, and the floating gardens emerge through the mist. Boatmen navigate past lotus fields, and houseboats moored along the banks, and the Zabarwan Hills, partially engulfed by clouds, loom larger and more picturesque than they do on a clear day. Those who want to stay closer to the water can book a night on one of the heritage houseboats, awakening to the sound of rain on the roof and the subtle waves of the lake beneath you, which is an experience that no hotel room can replicate.

On land, the Mughal Gardens, Shalimar Bagh, Nishat Bagh, and Chashme Shahi, look freshly washed after every shower, the chinar trees catching a particular silver light that only overcast afternoons produce. Pari Mahal, perched above the city, offers sweeping views of rain-darkened hills and the lake below, and is worth the climb because fewer people make it up here in the monsoon. Hari Parbat Fort, visible from much of the city, is similarly unhurried at this time of year.

By evening, Khayam Chowk draws locals and visitors to Imran Cafeteria, a nearly 50-year-old institution where 12-hour-marinated meats come off the charcoal and land on your plate with lavasa and walnut chutney. Order the mutton tujji and eat it while it's hot. For something more comforting on a cool, rainy night, head to Lhasa on Boulevard Road, opened in 1976 by a Tibet-returned Kashmiri, where steaming bowls of thukpa and handmade momo have been warming people up for decades. It is, in the best possible way, truly the kind of place you want to find yourself in when it's raining outside.

How to Reach: Srinagar airport has direct flights from Delhi, Mumbai, and several other cities. The Jammu-Srinagar Highway is the main route, but it can close during heavy rain—check conditions before driving.

Travel Tip: Weather shifts quickly here, even in a gentle monsoon. Keep a day flexible, carry a light waterproof layer, and book houseboats in advance.

Gangtok: Cloud-Kissed Peaks

The monsoon version of Gangtok is less photographed and more interesting. Contrary to popular belief, clear views of Kanchenjunga are not what make Gangtok special. Visit during the monsoon, and you'll find a city enveloped in cloud, wherein all winding roads and hillside seem touched by the rain. Footfall drops, prices follow, and what's left is a quieter, greener, more honest version of the place.

The waterfalls are at their most beautiful at this time of year. Banjhakri Falls, Bakthang, and Seven Sisters, all of them reduced to trickles in drier months, are fully themselves in the monsoon. The drive up from Siliguri or Bagdogra alone justifies the time spent on winding roads with rivers running full on either side, wildflowers on the verges, and fog drifting across the windscreen in slow waves.

The city's monasteries feel particularly atmospheric during the monsoon. Rumtek and Enchey, both striking on a clear day, become something stranger and more contemplative when the clouds sit low around them, and the courtyards are empty. The Namgyal Institute of Tibetology—housing ancient Buddhist manuscripts, ritual objects, and artefacts that most visitors walk past—is a place that rewards a slow, rain-interrupted afternoon. MG Marg in the evening, still lively despite the drizzle, is where you go for hot momo from a street counter and a walk that costs nothing.

The food is the other reason to come. Gangtok's dining culture draws on Sikkimese, Tibetan, and Nepali traditions, and during the monsoon, the most comforting version of it all comes to the fore. Thukpa, a thick noodle soup, available in veg and non-veg, is the thing to order when it's raining, which it will be. Phagshapa, a pork preparation with dried red chillies and radish, is the local dish most visitors miss entirely; find it at a Sikkimese kitchen and order it with rice. Steamed momo remain a non-negotiable. Temi tea, grown on Sikkim's only tea estate and available at most cafés around MG Marg, is not to be missed. Drink it without milk, with a view of the mist-covered hills, and the monsoon will start to make complete sense.

How to Reach: Bagdogra airport is the nearest, about 124 km away, with cabs and shared taxis running regularly. New Jalpaiguri railway station is the other option. The drive up takes three to four hours.

Travel Tip: North Sikkim is landslide-prone during the monsoon; stick to Gangtok and its surroundings. Avoid night travel on mountain roads and check conditions with your hotel before heading out.

Ooty: Misty Nilgiris

Ooty has built its reputation as a summer destination, all clipped gardens, toy trains, and clear-sky views across the Nilgiris. The monsoon version is much less visited and has an atmospheric feel. The hills turn a saturated, almost implausible green, mist settles into the valleys and doesn't always lift, and the crowds that descend every April thin out by July.

Doddabetta Peak, the highest point in the Nilgiris, is a good place to start. On most monsoon mornings, the peak is wrapped in a veil of mist, and the experience of standing there with visibility falling to a few metres and the forest sounds amplified around you, is genuinely different from anything a clear day offers. Lower down, Pykara Falls is the obvious draw, and justifiably so; the falls swell considerably with runoff, and the trail through the surrounding forest, slick with rain and loud with water, is best done slowly. Wenlock Downs, a stretch of open meadow that most visitors skip in favour of the usual circuit, is especially beautiful in the rain, with wide green spaces that remain almost entirely empty.

When the weather closes in, the Tea Museum and Factory near the town centre is worth a visit. The process from leaf to cup takes about an hour to walk through, and ends, as it should, with a tasting session: fresh Nilgiri brews, lighter and more aromatic than anything that reaches the supermarket shelf. The Botanical Gardens feels rewarding on a quiet early morning, plants glistening after rain, with the paths largely empty, the light flat and soft in the way that only overcast mornings produce. St. Stephen's Church, built in 1829, earns its detour in the monsoon, with the patter of rain on the old roof being the thing you remember long after the trip.

Food in Ooty leans into the chill without trying too hard. Amma's Kitchen on the way to Pykara Lake serves a South Indian thali that is natural, filling, and what you may want after a morning in the rain. The market near Commercial Street has stalls selling hot masala corn and fresh-cut fruit, which you can enjoy at this altitude, in the cold air, with nowhere particular to be. For something to take back, Ooty chocolates, Ooty Varkey, and Nilgiri tea from the estate shops near Doddabetta make the hills' best souvenirs.

How to Reach: Coimbatore airport is the closest, about 105 km away. The Nilgiri Mountain Railway from Mettupalayam is the most scenic route up, though services can run late during heavy rain.

Travel Tip: An e-pass is required to enter Ooty by vehicle; apply in advance on the Tamil Nadu government portal, as daily numbers are capped. Weekday visits are significantly calmer than weekends.

Gangtok: Cloud-Kissed Peaks

The monsoon version of Gangtok is less photographed and more interesting. Contrary to popular belief, clear views of Kanchenjunga are not what make Gangtok special. Visit during the monsoon, and you'll find a city enveloped in cloud, wherein all winding roads and hillside seem touched by the rain. Footfall drops, prices follow, and what's left is a quieter, greener, more honest version of the place.

The waterfalls are at their most beautiful at this time of year. Banjhakri Falls, Bakthang, and Seven Sisters, all of them reduced to trickles in drier months, are fully themselves in the monsoon. The drive up from Siliguri or Bagdogra alone justifies the time spent on winding roads with rivers running full on either side, wildflowers on the verges, and fog drifting across the windscreen in slow waves.

The city's monasteries feel particularly atmospheric during the monsoon. Rumtek and Enchey, both striking on a clear day, become something stranger and more contemplative when the clouds sit low around them, and the courtyards are empty. The Namgyal Institute of Tibetology—housing ancient Buddhist manuscripts, ritual objects, and artefacts that most visitors walk past—is a place that rewards a slow, rain-interrupted afternoon. MG Marg in the evening, still lively despite the drizzle, is where you go for hot momo from a street counter and a walk that costs nothing.

The food is the other reason to come. Gangtok's dining culture draws on Sikkimese, Tibetan, and Nepali traditions, and during the monsoon, the most comforting version of it all comes to the fore. Thukpa, a thick noodle soup, available in veg and non-veg, is the thing to order when it's raining, which it will be. Phagshapa, a pork preparation with dried red chillies and radish, is the local dish most visitors miss entirely; find it at a Sikkimese kitchen and order it with rice. Steamed momo remain a non-negotiable. Temi tea, grown on Sikkim's only tea estate and available at most cafés around MG Marg, is not to be missed. Drink it without milk, with a view of the mist-covered hills, and the monsoon will start to make complete sense.

How to Reach: Bagdogra airport is the nearest, about 124 km away, with cabs and shared taxis running regularly. New Jalpaiguri railway station is the other option. The drive up takes three to four hours.

Travel Tip: North Sikkim is landslide-prone during the monsoon; stick to Gangtok and its surroundings. Avoid night travel on mountain roads and check conditions with your hotel before heading out.

Rishikesh: River Of Renewal

Rishikesh in the monsoon is not the Rishikesh anyone warns you about. The rafting operators shut down for the season, the peak-season crowd thins to almost nothing, and the city that spends most of the year performing for tourists quietly becomes something else. The Ganga turns a deep greenish grey in July, a colour that looks wrong in photographs but makes complete sense in person. The air is cool enough to walk for hours. The Rajaji forest behind the city fills out so completely that it seems to close in, and the whole place has the scent of rain, wet sal trees, and river water all at once.

What most people don't realise is that Rishikesh, without the rafting and the crowd, is, in many ways, a better version of itself. The ghats, usually swarming with tourists, empty out by July. An evening aarti at Triveni Ghat, lamps moving in the dark, the river running loud and close, lands differently when there are 20 people watching instead of 200. The ashrams and yoga centres that gave the city its identity continue through the monsoon without interruption, and for anyone who came for that rather than the adventure activities, this is the right season. The Chilla area, a short drive from the main town near Rajaji National Park, is where the forest makes its strongest argument. The sal trees are old and enormous, the trails wet and quiet, and a morning walk with a naturalist who knows the Rajaji ecosystem produces something that no itinerary can quite account for.

The birds are more active in the monsoon. The river is too fast to raft, but impossible to ignore; it does something to a person's pace that three days back in the city will immediately undo.

Back in town, the food is simple and exactly right for the weather. Geeta Bhawan Canteen near Ram Jhula does aloo puri for almost nothing. Chaat stalls around Laxman Jhula pick up in the evening, the aloo tikki and pani puri find a smaller but more appreciative audience than usual. Chai here comes in different versions with mint, honey, ginger, and kahwa. The correct way to drink it is near the river, slowly, with no particular plan for what comes next.

How to Reach: Jolly Grant Airport in Dehradun is 35 km away. Haridwar railway station, 25 km away, is better connected than Rishikesh station and has frequent trains from Delhi.

Travel Tip: Rafting operators shut down during the monsoon—don't plan a trip around it. Head outdoors in the morning before the afternoon rain arrives, and confirm road conditions if visiting the Chilla area.

Shillong: Scotland Of The East

Meghalaya means the abode of clouds, and nowhere does that name make more literal sense than in Shillong during the monsoon. The city sits in the East Khasi Hills at over 1,500 m, and from June onwards, the clouds don't just pass through; they settle. This is not a spot that fights the rain. It is a destination that was built for it.

The drives around the city are reason enough to come now. The road to Umiam Lake, about 15 km out, cuts through hills that turn an almost violent shade of green in July, and the reservoir itself is at its most dramatic when the clouds are low.

Elephant Falls, a three-tiered cascade that the Khasi people call Ka Kshaid Lai Pateng, earns its name in the monsoon, when the water comes down with enough force to be felt before it's seen. The railed walkways let you get close enough to feel the spray. Shillong Peak, the highest point in the region, offers something different in the rain: visibility drops, the valleys below disappear into cloud, and the whole experience becomes less about the view and more about being at the edge of something large and indifferent.

The city's other identity, as the rock music capital of India, home to a café culture that feels genuinely its own rather than borrowed from elsewhere, comes through most clearly in the evenings. Café Shillong on Laitumkhrah has live performances on weekends; the Khowsuey here, a noodle dish served with boiled eggs, dried prawns, spring onions and chilli is the thing to order. Police Bazaar, the city's chaotic, beloved market, is where you go in the morning for spicy chicken cutlets from street vendors, fresh strawberries and mulberries, the tart local berries called sohphie, and pineapple, sliced and handed to you with salt and chilli powder.

For something more considered, Trattoria, a small canteen-style place inside Police Bazaar that locals frequent, does jadoh—rice cooked with pork, smoky and lightly seasoned with ginger and garlic—that is the most unpretentious introduction to Khasi food the city offers. For the full version of that cuisine, Sao Aiom at Ri Kynjai resort, overlooking Umiam Lake through a sweep of forest, deserves a pitstop. The jadoh here comes with smoked tomatoes and chillies, and a Khasi chicken curry with sticky rice that is peppery and deeply flavoured. Eat it facing the forest, order tea afterwards, and stay as long as the rain allows.

How to Reach: Most travellers fly into Guwahati and drive to Shillong, a roughly 2.5-hour drive. Shillong's own airport at Umroi has limited connectivity.

Travel Tip: Travel between Guwahati and Shillong early in the day and avoid the stretch after dark. If visiting Cherrapunji or Mawsynram, pack serious rain gear; both rank among the wettest places on earth during the monsoon.

Mahabaleshwar: Strawberry Highlands

For travellers driving up from Mumbai or Pune, Mahabaleshwar in July is a different country from the one they left behind a few hours ago. The Sahyadri ranges receive some of the heaviest rainfall in Maharashtra during the monsoon, over 900 mm in July and August alone, and the effect on the landscape is evident. The valleys disappear under clouds, the hills turn green and the Lingmala and Chinaman's Falls, modest trickles through the rest of the year, come down with enough force to be heard before they're seen.

The man-made Venna Lake, in the monsoon, ringed by dense forest and gently sloping hills, fills up by July, and a boat ride here when the fog comes in, slowly, without warning, is one of those experiences that doesn't translate well to photographs but stays with you regardless. The road to Pratapgarh Fort, 20 km out, winds through rain-soaked forest and is as much of the experience as the fort itself; built by Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj in the 17th century, the fortress sits in the Sahyadri ranges with views over valleys that are at their most dramatic when the clouds are low.

For a quieter alternative, the drive to the Kaas Plateau between August and September is the one most visitors miss. A UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site at 4,500 ft, Kaas transforms into a carpet of wildflowers in the monsoon, with over 850 species, including rare orchids and carnivorous plants.

The food follows the weather in the best possible way. Mahabaleshwar's market is famous for its strawberries even in the off-season, and the chocolate-dipped versions sold at stalls near the main market are worth every single bit of the queue. Mapro Garden does wood-fired pizza and strawberry cream that locals actually recommend. The sharper find is the Pure Gold Cheese Factory on the Panchgani route: artisan smoked cheddar and garlic herb cheese made on-site, the kind of thing you don't expect to find in the Sahyadris and won't stop thinking about once you have.

​How to Reach: Pune airport is the nearest, about 120 km away. Mumbai is roughly 260 km by road. There is no direct rail connection; the nearest station is Wathar, about 60 km out.

Travel Tip: Ghat roads get extremely slippery in heavy rain. Start the climb before noon when visibility is better. For the Kaas Plateau, book forest department permits in advance; the wildflowers peak between mid-August and late September.