For many women, the idea of traveling to India alone can seem very intimidating. It’s a large, conservative country with 16 official languages and a wide variety of places to explore. Before visiting, contributing writer Lisa Blake did her homework and went prepared—but also learned a few valuable lessons along the way. Here are her tips for women traveling alone to India.

Standing on the curb at airport departures, our goodbye hug was awkward as goodbye hugs sometimes are. But it was all I could do not to burst into tears—so dear had this man become during my five days in his city. We had gone on several life-changing road trips together, shared many unforgettable meals, and he patiently stood at my side while I shopped for silver and saris. We enjoyed religious experiences, lots of laughs, and many conversations about jazz. Twice he came to my rescue when my “Americanness” became an issue. Naranian started out as my driver, but standing on that curb at the Chennai International Airport, I was saying goodbye to a friend. Had I been traveling with a television production crew, as I usually am, or even one other person, saying farewell to Naranian would not have been such a bittersweet moment. But I was not with my usual posse. I was a woman traveling alone in India.

The adventure started when I got an invitation in the mail. Vijaya, my New York City-based doctor friend (a petite beauty with a shrewd intellect and slightly sarcastic sense of humor), was getting married in her hometown of Tirupathi in southern India.

My boyfriend said, “You haven’t lived until you’ve gone to a Hindu wedding.” I’d heard stories about these jaw-dropping three-day affairs. I’d seen the movie Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Even though I knew Vijaya and her family were devout Brahmans and no one would be riding in on an elephant, I realized this was an opportunity I could not pass up. It was not just to satisfy my own lust for travel, but also to fuse with a family I’d heard her talk about but had never met. The sweet but stoic mother. The jovial father. The bossy, best friend/older sister. Ravi, the fellow doctor she had waited seven years to marry because it took that long for her parents to give their consent.

As it turned out there was serendipity with work since I had research to do for another TV show we’d soon be shooting in India. But due to a number of factors, it would just be me on this trip. So, much to my mother’s deep consternation—“Oh honey, are you sure this is a good idea? I worry when you’re alone in Paris but this is India. India!”—there I was on Qatar Airways Flight 001 to Hyderabad, India. Alone.

There’s nothing like boots-on-the-ground when it comes to research, so my two-week itinerary was dictated by the combined needs of work and time to fully experience Vijaya’s wedding. My itinerary mapped out like this: Hyderabad, Tirupathi, Chennai, and Bangalore.

As a TV producer who spends so much time traveling, it’s my job to know the rules of the road. I knew the U.S. Department of State strongly advises women not to do what I was definitely about to do. To not be completely foolhardy, I decided I would do three things in advance: 1) Research particular safety precautions within each region I’d be traveling. 2) Travel very lightly to be as efficient as possible. 3) Write an article at the end of my experience so that other adventurous women would feel empowered to travel alone to India with confidence.

For all the women considering traveling alone to India, here are the 19 absolutely essential things I learned from my experience:

Before You Go

Read the U.S. Department of State’s advisory on India.

It will put the fear of God into you, and that’s good. The people I met in India were all lovely. But in the public spaces there is a certain free-for-all frenetic energy that I found disconcerting. I live in New York City. I have traveled all over the world. None of that prepared me for what I was about to experience. As a woman traveling alone in India there are just some things you can’t do: you can’t wear anything that in any way can be misconstrued as revealing or form-fitting, and you can’t take a taxi alone at night. Read the advisory and take it to heart. Then…GO.

Sign up for STEP–the U.S. Department’s Smart Traveler Enrollment Program.

This registers your itinerary with the local consulates and the Department of State. It’s a smart, easy-to-do extra measure of precaution. Your mom will appreciate this too.

Apply for a Visa.

You’ll need a visa to enter India, and this can take a good two to three weeks. Depending on where you live and the time you have to prepare, a visa can be acquired either online or, for a premium, at a service such as It’s Easy. The Indian government’s questionnaire is surprisingly long and quite detailed, so give yourself plenty of time to complete the process, and then time for it to be approved.

Sign up for travel health insurance.

I have MedjetAssist, which covers me everywhere I travel internationally, and normally I don’t think too much about it. But once I saw the hospitals in India, I was very grateful to have yet another precautionary measure in place. General health care in India is universal. However, good health care comes at a price.

Prior to departure, buy two or three kurta.

Kurta or Kurti is the type of top most women wear if they are not wearing a sari. It’s long, sometimes to the knees, but you just throw it on over your jeans. It can be cute in color prints or with embroidery they call chikan, but most importantly, it’s modest. Indian women are extremely modest. Never is your tush to be exposed. Initially I thought, “Ooh! Shopping in India. I’ll buy kurta there.” The problem is, shopping in India is actually a heroic undertaking. Once I arrived and realized this I was so grateful I had bought three kurta from Amazon.com. I can’t tell you how many western women at the hotels cornered me and asked, “Where did you get that top?” Many Indian women also told me they appreciated I was wearing appropriate clothing. Have your kurta in your suitcase before you even get on the plane.

Pack sensible sandals.

India is hot and dusty. Most areas do not have sidewalks. Temples require that you remove your shoes before entering. (Trust me, you’ll be entering a lot of temples. On and off. On and off all day long.) I found myself a sturdy pair of sandals with Velcro backs so they came on and off easily, yet stayed on my feet snugly. Were they slightly dorky? You bet. Were they a great purchase? You bet.

Bring treats for the kids.

You will see countless mothers with their children begging along with the elderly. One Indian friend advised I pack candy for the kids. Another said pens were preferable given the limited dentistry in India. I packed pens, Rice Krispie treats, and fruit chews. The box of pens is now back in New York in my desk drawer. The fruit chews and Rice Krispie treats were devoured, loved by young and old alike. I wasn’t going to give money, so it was nice to see the kids’ and even the old folk’s faces light up at a snack they clearly had never seen before.

Bring Pepto-Bismol.

Drink a few swigs every morning whether you think you need it or not. A friend who had traveled a few times through India gave me this tip. I followed it and never got sick. Not even a little.

Bring industrial strength sanitizing wipes.

Remember all the temples you’re marching in and out of? You’ll need these to wipe your feet after trekking thru acres of sacred grounds. True, I have a thing about clean feet and the relentless wiping my feet off may have made my drivers chuckle. But on the two times I found myself in a public bathroom I was so glad to have those wipes—not to wipe down a surface—they were far too vile to be wiped down. But I had to mask the horrific odors. Yes, the risk of inhaling those citrus scented chemicals was far superior to the fumes you’ll find brewing in the bathrooms.

Opt for a small to mid-sized cross-body shoulder bag.

Backpacks have too many pockets and often you will find yourself surrounded by people. You’ll appreciate a smallish bag you can keep very close to your person, as opposed to a backpack when you don’t know what’s going on behind you.

Arrange for the hotel to pick you up at the airport.

Even if it’s 3 a.m. Especially if it’s 3 a.m.!

Once You’re There

Hire a car and driver from your hotel.

Throughout my entire two-week stay in India, I was only alone for one brief leg of the journey, and that was undertaken during the day and as safely as possible. (More on that later.) Otherwise, I was always with my driver in the hotel’s car. At about $30 a day it’s worth having him as your guide and bodyguard. When walking through a crowded market area in Chennai, my driver Naranian was just two steps ahead of me when a homeless woman grabbed the back of my shirt. Already on edge from the density of the crowd, her grab was the last straw. I turned around and shouted, “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me!” Fortunately Naranian was instantly there to intercede and protect me.

Think twice about letting men take your picture.

The men will stare and flirt and whisper and want to take your picture. If you have a fair complexion, blonde hair or blue eyes, brace yourself. You’ll feel a little bit like a celebrity, but it gets old quickly. Personally, I found this really creepy—having total strangers approach me asking to take a selfie with them. After the first request, which totally caught me off guard, my driver in Hyderabad suggested something he learned from a previous client—agree to take a picture but only in a group setting. It works! Getting everyone around into the picture defuses the pressure on you and instantly removes any potential “eww” factor for when the initiator get that picture home.

Only drink bottled water provided by the hotel.

Shopkeepers will offer you tea. Sorry to be rude, but no thank you. Why take the risk? You can drink beer, soda, or the hotel’s water, and that’s it.

Plan meals on the road before leaving the hotel.

I did several day trips to see amazing sights—which are always in the middle of nowhere. My hotel and driver were able to recommend and book other quality hotels along the way for me to stop for lunch en route and on the way back. Knowing this was organized ahead of time proved beneficial—not just because I knew I would be eating cleanly prepared food, but when arriving at the lunch spot on a beautiful Sunday afternoon I had a reservation in a lovely beachside restaurant that was otherwise sold out.

The “No Pictures” sign means NO PICTURES.

Those deities at the temples may just be a sculpture to you, but to the locals they are sacred. Seriously sacred. That means no pictures. In fact, some temples, like the one where my friend was married, scanned all bags for cameras and phones, and if you’re carrying, you’re not entering. Period. Ask your driver or the hotel prior to heading to the temples. In some cases it’s better to leave your camera or phone at the hotel. Learn from my mistake: at a temple in Chennai that was abuzz with tourists, the attendant admitting us said pictures were OK. They were, as long as I was taking pictures of the architecture. I inadvertently snapped a picture of the deity, and a swarm of angry security guards were yelling at me in Hindi, demanding my phone. Fortunately my driver was able to explain we had been given misinformation and they agreed to let me go if I deleted the offending photo. Holy smokes!

Personal space?

In India it doesn’t exist, so take a deep breath and relax. I was never able to get used to the crush of people everywhere I went. Beyond the sheer numbers, there’s a cultural phenomenon that in a line, for example, others press into you hard or stand so close you can feel their breath on the back of your neck. At many of the temples I found myself exhausted from the effort of elbowing the people behind me as they pushed into me, as if pushing me would make the thousand people ahead of me in line disappear. Powerless to make the multitudes vanish, I had no choice but to Zen out, take a deep breath, and know I’d be back to my hotel room soon enough.

If you must travel alone, do it during the day.

Following the wedding, I needed to get from Tirupathi to Chennai. My adopted Indian family wrestled long and hard about how best to get me there. For me to be alone on a train, even during the day, even in my own first class car—they deemed too risky. Also too risky was hiring a local car to drive me the short two hours. Finally, my “uncles” decided that the luxury bus with no stops along the way was acceptable. Two of these uncles were charged with escorting me to the bus station, and I could tell from their raised voices they made it unmistakably clear to the driver I was to arrive in Chennai safely. The bus was about half full. I was the only woman on board. But it was clean and comfortable, and I arrived in Chennai just fine, even happy for the adventure. The luxury ride was all of $7.

Wear a sari!

A friend who had lived in Mumbai for many years lent me a beautiful sari for the wedding. I balked at first, thinking I’d feel awkward in this traditional garment. But she promised I’d be more comfortable and more appropriate in a sari. She also warned me in advance that I’d need an “auntie” to help me drape it. She was right on all accounts. When it came time for the wedding I did my best to wrap myself up in what felt like a never-ending piece of fabric. But when I walked into the wedding two things happened—the fact that I had made the effort to wear a sari instantly endeared me to the family, and the “aunties” hurried me into the ladies room where hands flew at lightning speed to safety-pin me into sari perfection. (I learned that safety pins are the sari’s little secret.) The moment was among the highlights of my trip. Throughout the wedding, Vijaya’s mom never stopped holding my hand.

When I got to the hotel in Chennai I learned it offers a sari wrapping service. It turns out most hotels do—so go for it! Sari shopping is the one shopping experience in India that will thrill and delight you. To have a tailor come to my hotel, measure me for my blouse, stitch the blouse, add the finishing details, and then deliver it the next day, cost $14.50 Once you have your sari, book dinner at the hotel’s best restaurant and wear it. Wearing a sari out for a meal will take your trip to an entirely new level. None of the poverty or grime will matter. You’ll have experienced India on your own terms, and despite what the U.S. Department of State may have to say, you’ll have had an incredible adventure as a woman alone in India.

For more information about female and solo travel, check out:

• How to Stay Safe When You’re Traveling Solo
• Camps & Guided Tours Designed for Female Travelers
• How You Can Travel Solo and Avoid Single Supplement Fees

Text and images by Lisa Blake for PeterGreenberg.com