Arriving in Rishikesh, it’s readily apparent that you’re stepping into the yoga capital of the world. Rishikesh is home to what feels like hundreds of yoga studios and thousands of yogis and yoginis. Rishikesh is an oasis for all that is yoga.
As a sacred city, it is illegal to bring or eat meat inside the city, as it is illegal to bring or consume alcohol inside city limits. Rishikesh extends along the curves of the Ganges River, pronounced here as lovingly as the Gung-GA. It’s also filled daily with Indians making pilgrimage here, visiting to walk along the streets and bridges of this holy city. It’s a bright, colorful trail of saris and tika powder.
Rishikesh is paradise filled with the equivalent of Harvard level yoga education. What’s more that a yogi could want? How about views of the Himalayas? Scared ceremonies on the Ganges river? Heaps of chai tea? Check, check, check. Rishikesh has it all.
What I struggle with in Rishikesh is that it is touristy, which has led to the commercializations of yoga studios. And an immensely saturated market. Your head is on a swivel stick and you still can’t absorb the amount of yoga studios and healing centers and wellness stores. They’re placed oddly on multi-level buildings and in street alleys. And trust me, they are absolutely everywhere.
I was fortunate to befriend a young Israeli traveler who was taking an art class in an art store I walked in to. He recommended a yoga studio, Vidya Yoga, and said I should join him for a yoga alignment course. I did, and I fell in love with yoga all over again.
That’s what Rishikesh is all about, falling in love with yoga — even if you already were in love with yoga to begin with.
