In the silence of the forest, I can hear my own heart beating. Beating fast. Somewhere in the distance, two shining eyes are moving swiftly, looking for prey. Deeper in the wilderness, a village that has been abandoned by all but five people, is keeping vigil for wild boars and porcupines who threaten their crops. With the night jar’s call for company and leopards and other wild animals lurking outside, I tuck in to sleep in one of Binsar Wildlife Sanctuary’s only four private estates, dating back to 1856 – refurbished by its young heirs with solar energy for power, an organic farm for most of its produce, and legendary stories that have been handed down through the generations.

Long ago, when I adopted a nomadic life, I imagined that traveling responsibly – conscious of my impact on the local people and the environment – meant slumming it out. That if…