The majestic, overlooked corner of India without the tourist crowds of Rajasthan

 The sky is highlighter blue. White iced-gem cupolas skirt a central golden, sky-piercing dome. Devotees stream in: men in bright turbans, toddlers in bandanas, women wrapped in the signature folk “phulkari” dupattas, all here to visit the Gurudwara Shri Dukhniwaran Sahib. I’m among only three obvious tourists, and yet we feel both unremarkable and welcome.

This holy Sikh site is in Patiala, Punjab, to the north of India’s tourist hot spot Rajasthan, a region I’ve researched many times as a Lonely Planet guidebook writer. I’ve visited Amritsar – Punjab’s holiest city – but this is my first trip to Patiala, famous for its regal monuments: gurudwaras, gardens and temples.

With the conversion of part of its magnificent hilltop Qila Mubarak palace into a magnificent heritage hotel, Ran Baas The Palace, it’s now an enticing alternative to the well-worn routes around Rajasthan.

Indeed, the contestants on this year’s Race Across the World – which has sparked a sharp rise in interest for trips to India among tour operators such as Explore Worldwide – zipped almost straight across Punjab on their route from the Himalayas down to Gujarat, with some choosing to stop in Amritsar and others heading straight for Rajasthan.

Like the “Pool of Nectar” at the Golden Temple (the meaning of the word Amritsar), the Gurudwara Shri Dukhniwaran Sahib’s tank of holy water is believed to have healing properties.

Some men and boys take the plunge, immersing themselves entirely, others splash their faces and take a sip.

Qila Mubarak, the 10-acre hilltop palace complex above Patiala, is only a short drive from the Gurudwara. Built in the 18th century and expanded by successive maharajas, the palace had fallen into ruin by 2004, earning a place on the World Monuments Fund’s Most Endangered list. Closed up for 70 years, it was rescued by art collector Priya Paul, chair of Park Hotels, who oversaw a meticulous restoration, breathing life into the palace’s long-closed guest wing.

You may have heard of the Patiala peg, a super-sized measure of whisky that is measured between your index and smallest finger on a glass. The palace was its birthplace and the Ran Baas bartender, in the velvety baroque of the hotel bar – beneath gilded ceilings and fringed lights – pours a tumbler full like you might a glass of juice.

The measure was invented by Maharaja Bhupinder Singh, one of India’s most famous royals, who owned 44 Rolls-Royces. It is said that he had hundreds of concubines and 88 children and ate 24-egg omelettes for breakfast.

His palace, too, is on an enormous scale, and Ran Baas has revived its splendour. No two suites are the same and some are hung with original miniature paintings.

The pool fills one rose-pink courtyard, next to the spa, where a resident white rabbit hops about.

The guest wing’s Sheesh Mahal (mirror palace) is studded with thousands of tiny convex mirrors. I eat a private candlelit dinner here and it’s like sitting within a jewel, the mirrors reflecting a thousand flickering flames as they would have done for their royal inhabitants.

While the palace’s other wings remain closed to the public, hotel guests may occasionally gain permission to access them.

I am allowed to visit the Durbar Hall, which faces the former guest wing. It’s full of dauntingly huge glass chandeliers, plus portraits and carriages used by the Punjabi kings. It’s an extraordinary privilege to glimpse this sun-bleached, forgotten glory.

A guard directs his phone torch to illuminate glimpses of rooms painted as vividly as the Sistine Chapel. The light flares to show Krishna’s wedding, with crowds served food on banana leaves. Climbing up to the upper level, pigeons wheel overhead, and we’re accompanied by a very healthy-looking palace dog.

Up here is a smoky and important religious site, an eternal flame brought by Ala Singh, the founder of Patiala, from Jwalamukhi temple. An oil lamp burns in an alcove, and a fire smoulders in one corner of the tower: it’s said that if it is extinguished, the city will be destroyed by flood.

The palace is a tranquil space in the city centre, a world of its own, while outside, Patiala’s old town is another: a laid-back bazaar, famous for its jootis and jewellers, both costume jewellery and serious-looking gold merchants.

Phulkari hang outside shops like flags, the woven fabric aglow with crimson and gold. More royal pleasure palaces dot the city: the mighty Sheesh Mahal and Moti Bagh, rose-pink extravaganzas viewable from outside, and the picturesquely overgrown 17th-century Bahadurgarh fort.

Punjabi cuisine is the source of butter chicken and tandoori, so it’s worth coming here for the cooking alone. Try the creamy cashew patiala chicken in the sage-and-gold Neel restaurant at Ran Baas, or venture into the market to try street food favourites chole bhature, spiced chickpeas and puffed-up bread, at simple places such as long-running Gopal’s.

Patiala and Punjab offer a beguiling alternative to the well-trodden Golden Triangle of Delhi, Jaipur and Agra.

Whether as a peaceful pause en route to the hills and colonial-era buildings of Shimla or a midpoint between Delhi and Amritsar, Patiala slots perfectly into a wider North Indian itinerary, and this off-the-track royal city may well turn out to be the highlight of your trip.

Getting therePatiala is just under five hours’ drive from New Delhi and Amritsar airports. It is about a 90-minute drive from Chandigarh, which is served by domestic flights and trains from major cities.