Sometimes even travel writers need a little help. Certain places demand a cultural fluency without which a first-time visitor’s experience can be impoverished. India was one of those places for me. I was glumly contemplating the alternatives – initial bumbling or a trite package tour – when my luck changed with the engagement of two longtime friends.

Though Anne Reinhardt, an accomplished China scholar, is from Massachusetts, she was marrying Arindam Dutta, a professor of architectural history and theory, who hails from Ahmedabad, a prosperous city near Rajasthan, in western India. I urged them to get married in his home city, and then take the American guests on a collective honeymoon in the northwestern Indian state of Rajasthan. To my surprise, they followed my suggestion. So it was that I ended up in the city of Udaipur with an eclectic and cheerful group of 15 of the newlyweds’ friends and family.

Our first stop in Udaipur was the City Palace, one of the biggest in Rajasthan, which remains in the possession of the Maharana, the deposed regional ruler. Part of it is open to the public as a museum; other parts host the Maharana’s private residence and two hotels.

The long-lived Mewar dynasty, which ruled the region from the sixth century until India’s independence from the British Empire in 1947, inspires great pride in modern-day Rajasthanis for having retained its Hindu identity during periods of foreign domination. Udaipur was founded during the rule of the Muslim Mughals, and the Maharanas (in Udaipur, the term “Maharaja”is reserved for Lord Shiva, the greatest king of all) also held sway during the British colonial era.

The fortified palace complex, first established by Udai Singh in the 16th century and added to haphazardly since, has more than 350 rooms. A syncretic architectural approach includes lotus motifs typical of Hindu tradition and arch designs drawn from Muslim building styles.

Landmarks include the Sun Room, where the sun-worshipping Surya clan, to which the kings of Udaipur belonged, started and ended each day. The meticulously restored Peacock Court has glass and jewel inlays of three of the showy birds on each wall, symbolizing the three seasons: summer, monsoon, and winter. The museum exhibits portraits of past Maharanas, as well as impressive carpets, miniatures, and other artwork.

The other major site in the city is the Lake Palace, which inspires countless nightly showings of “Octopussy” in Udaipur’s cafes and bars. The palace, which appears in the Bond flick, is now an overpriced hotel that requires restaurant reservations for non-guests; if you must check this kitschy experience off your list, skip the insanely expensive dinner and have the sanely expensive lunch ($31) or high tea ($20.65).

We spent the next day at Chittorgarh Fort, less than an hour’s drive to the northeast from Udaipur. The most important fortified palace complex in Rajasthan, the 4,000-acre site probably dates to the 10th century, with many additions thereafter.

Chittorgarh, with its commanding views, contains the remains of more than 100 structures. A 15th-century tower pays tribute to Rana Kumbha’s military victories; his pioneering patronage of the arts is evident in the ornate carvings that cover every square inch of its nine levels. Other highlights include a temple for Meera, a 16th-century queen and devotee of Krishna whose many passionate compositions are still sung by worshippers today. The Gaumukh Reservoir, the fort’s spring-fed cistern, is a refreshing place to dip your feet.

Until it was abandoned in the 16th century, Chittorgarh was the scene of three different jauhars, or mass suicides in the face of certain defeat. The palace ladies immolated themselves and their children as the men fought to the death defending their sacrosanct honor. The last sacking, at the hands of the Mughal emperor Akbar in 1568, resulted in the abandonment of the fort and the establishment of Udaipur as the new capital.

The glorification of what was essentially widow suicide sat uneasily with some in our group, in light of the violence against women that plagues some parts of modern Indian society. One gender-studies graduate student voiced her dismay at the swooning praise heaped on these women. For his part, my friend Arindam expressed skepticism over the vast numbers bandied about (as many as 13,000 on one occasion).

The next day, a small group of us checked out the Jain temple of Ranakpur, an easy day trip through the lush countryside. Jainism, an austere religion that has about 4 million adherents in India, incorporates many aspects of Hinduism and Buddhism. A gleaming white marble complex, Ranakpur is a living religious site, but is open to non-Jains from noon to 5 p.m.

Built in the 15th century, Ranakpur centers on the 48,000-square-foot main temple, and “should not be missed, even if you’re ‘templed out,'” writes Vivek Jain, the editor of Out & About Udaipur, a free quarterly guide to the Udaipur region.

The temple’s 1,444 extensively carved pillars that hold up the 40-foot ceiling match the number of Jain canonical texts, and no two are alike. The head priest of the temple pointed out that one of the pillars leaned slightly off-center, to acknowledge that perfection is the prerogative of the gods.

The Jain interpretation of nonviolence is among the more ascetic in the land of Gandhi. They do the Hindus’ vegetarianism one better by avoiding many root vegetables and fruits, which, as the repositories of plant life, should not be destroyed. In line with this philosophy of ahimsa, or nonviolence, the temple includes subterranean rooms, where the statues were hidden during wartime, in order to avoid religious clashes. Ranakpur has even been disguised as a mosque, for protection and for the sake of peace. Jains do not commit violence, even in self-defense.

One of the most pleasant aspects of Ranakpur is the lack of eateries, souvenir stands, or other tourist institutions. Once clear of the compound, we snacked in the car, enjoying the contemplative mood the temple induced in us and looking forward to the next few days in Jaipur, the capital of Rajasthan.

The major landmark in the Pink City (so called because of the reddish sandstone found throughout) is the Amber Fort, a large complex on a hill. One glimpse of the elephants that ferry visitors to the entrance ($10 for up to six people), and our attempts at critical reserve were doomed. We waved and snapped pictures the whole way.

The 16th-century fort, with more than 10 miles of walls and space for 6,000 people, is really more of a fortified palace, with a true fort higher up the hill, Jaigarh (now the Jaipur Maharaja’s private residence). The frescoes on the main gate, painted with the powder residues of emerald and ruby cuttings, are still vivid after 350 years. In the inner courtyard is the largest inlaid palace in India. With colored marbles, precious gems, and silvered mirrors, it shimmers like a Vegas showgirl.

When we reached the women’s portion of the palace, my friend Arindam, back in his professorial mode, mused on the harem as an alternate source of royal power. The nominally powerless women asserted authority through their children, using regencies and marriage. The physical concentration of the female population only reinforced the dynamics of this parallel universe, which had its own set of laws, no less encompassing for remaining uncodified.

He also joked that, even with the strict separation of sexes in the Jaipur court, at least the queen (who was often Hindu) and king met once a day, whereas he and Annie, a typical academic couple teaching in different cities, spend a weekend together every two weeks.

The Jantar Mantar, or royal observatory, is the other must-see landmark of Jaipur. Its many looming structures, whose technical accomplishments were explained to us by B.M. Khatri, chief astrologist, look like installations in an outdoor sculpture park. The Maharaja Jai Singh, who relied on astrologers to make crucial decisions, built it between 1728 and 1734. With Greek and European principles incorporated into its design, the Jaipur observatory is the largest of the various Jantar Mantars he established throughout his kingdom.

There are two giant sundials to track the hours of the day. Numerous star charts taught apprentice astrologers to recognize constellations and calculate their movements. Other instruments use shadow-casting markers and the movement of the sun to indicate the current sign, the occurrences of the equinoxes and solstices, and the rising and descending signs throughout the day for each of the 12 astrological signs.

Other wonders were to follow on our trip, but the most colorful and intriguing segment was in Rajasthan. And with our tailor-made guide, we truly saw the best of what both cities had to offer. I’m already wondering if Arindam and Annie can take us on another trip, to areas farther south. Maybe an anniversary celebration?

SHOPPING IN UDAIPUR AND JAIPUR

Even for this inveterate non-shopper, India abounded with temptations. Street markets always yield treasures and the thrill of the chase, especially for the skilled bargainer, but for fixed-price, high-quality goods, head to these places:

Udaipur’s old city is full of miniature artists’ studios. We chose a print (about $30) by local artist Shahid Parvez, who specializes in exuberant depictions of everyday life in modern India. His paintings, drawings, and lithographs are available at Pristine Art Gallery (6 Kalapi House, Palace Road, 91-294-415291), along with the work of other Udaipur artists, including artists in his family.

Seva Mandir, an NGO for rural development, operates Sadhna (Old Fatehpura, Udaipur 91-294-2451041), which sells handmade textiles and other crafts. Silk stoles start at $3.50, and appliqued and embroidered silk cushion covers range from $3.50 to $7. All proceeds support Seva Mandir programs.

Jaipur is the biggest jewelry market in the world, and the Johari Bazaar is their equivalent of 47th street. The standard price of gold jewelry, which is sold by weight, is just above the international commodities price, meaning that the exquisite craftsmanship is just an afterthought, price-wise. At early January rates, a matching set of substantial gold earrings and necklace, all with intricate filigree work and the delicate enamel decoration that is a Jaipur specialty, cost about $350 at Pink City Jewelers (198 Johari Bazaar 91-141-256-1772).

The textile tradition of Jaipur shows at Anokhi (2 Tilak Marg, 91-141-2750860), a clothing store specializing in cotton clothing that is based there, with outposts throughout India. Lightweight reversible drawstring pants are $22, and a three-quarter-sleeve shirt with pin-tuck bias quilting was $15.60. The store also stocks a dizzying array of colorful shawls and scarves.