Touch down in Kolkata, gateway to the cultured East and a city of poets, publishers and painters. After a smooth transfer, settle into your base and take the day gently. Outside, the city hums to an old-new rhythm: Hooghly River ferries tracing silver arcs, vintage trams chiming at crossroads, banyan shade falling over colonial colonnades and modern cafés.

This is your soft landing: adjust the clock, breathe in the fragrant mix of cardamom, joss sticks and rain-washed stone, and start to map the neighbourhood. If you’re drawn to the water, wander the promenades near Prinsep Ghat; for architecture, the grand dome of the Victoria Memorial gleams between lawns and palm-lined paths. Prefer a local scene? Duck into a sweet shop for warm rosogolla or mishti doi, or browse College Street bookstalls where first editions and student notes jostle in friendly chaos.

As afternoon light softens, Kolkata’s neighbourhoods glow: flower sellers bunch marigolds near Mullik Ghat, tea brews in clay bhar cups, and the yellow Ambassador taxis thread through tree-lined avenues. Keep the pace unhurried today — tomorrow brings deeper explorations of the city once celebrated as India’s intellectual heart.

Board a morning service for the six–hour run north through rural Bengal, where station tea smells of ginger and cardamom and the landscape slows to a film of paddy fields, mango groves and coconut palms. The train clicks across waterways and sleepy halts, offering cameo scenes of village life — women in bright saris at hand pumps, blue herons tilting above flooded plots, schoolchildren waving from level crossings. As the kilometres fall away, the air grows softer and the great river system of the Ganges draws near.

Arrive in Farakka, gateway to the Barrage and the upper reaches of the Hooghly distributary, where your elegant river ship awaits: the RV Rajmahal. Step aboard to polished wood, picture windows and a calm, contemporary look that frames India’s liquid highway as the star. After a relaxed welcome and safety briefing, settle into your stateroom, explore the open sun deck and lounge, and watch river traffic stitch back and forth — fishing skiffs, sand pans, ferries — against a horizon of reeds and distant temple spires.

As mooring lines ease and evening gathers, the water mirrors a sky turning copper, then indigo. The seven-night Ganges cruise begins unhurriedly: a bell, a soft engine hum, and the first roll of wake rippling towards the banks. Ahead lies a thread of history-rich towns, terracotta temples, bird sanctuaries and timeless riverside scenes best savoured at river pace.

Step ashore for a journey into the medieval capital once known as Gaur (Gour/Lakhnauti) — a city that ruled the delta long before Kolkata rose to prominence. For centuries, jungle vines swallowed its avenues and citadels; today, the canopy parts to reveal brick-red mosques, arched gateways and scattered ramparts glowing against emerald fields and mango orchards.

With your guide, wander among weathered prayer halls and quiet courtyards where birds nest in carved niches. Trace the calligraphy bands that ribbon ancient facades, admire honeycomb mihrabs set with glazed tiles, and frame photographs through lofty persianate arches. Minarets tilt above ponds thick with lotus; banyan roots pleat the old city walls; goats doze in slats of sun as if time has slipped its tether. This is ruin romance at its most evocative — a place where history speaks softly through brick, tile and shade.

Sites vary by season and access, but your circuit may include monumental gateways, elegant multi-domed mosques and a sentinel tower overlooking paddy and palms. Between stops, the countryside rolls past in a collage of village wells, ox carts and tea stalls. Return to the vessel in the late afternoon with red-dusted shoes and a head full of silhouettes — arches, domes and trees etched against a lowering sky.

Cast off at first light and slip onto the Hooghly proper, where fishermen lift nets in silver sheets and palm crowns stipple the sky. River life gathers at the banks — cattle watered at ghats, boats trimmed with blue tarpaulins — as the RV Rajmahal noses south towards Baranagar, famed for its clusters of terracotta shrines. Step ashore to lanes shaded by neem and banyan, then linger over brick temples whose panels bloom with mythic scenes, floral borders and dancers frozen mid-whirl.

Continue to storied Murshidabad, once seat of Bengal’s Nawabs, where merchant palaces and marble-fronted mansions recall a century when silk, indigo and opium fortunes flowed like the river itself. In the grand Hazarduari Palace — literally “house of a thousand doors” — galleries display portraits, arms and objets d’art beneath soaring ceilings and chandeliered halls. At the starkly beautiful Katra Mosque, climb the broad steps to view its austere symmetry and striking corner towers, the complex edged with the ruins of once-busy cloisters.

Later, thread quiet streets to the 18th-century mansions of Nashipara and Katgola. Here, colonnades, stucco scrollwork and Venetian windows speak of merchant dynasties who traded across the Bay of Bengal and beyond. Courtyards echo with the soft tap of a caretaker’s broom; dust motes drift in lances of light; carved doors open onto rooms with Italianate floors and fading frescoes — an atmosphere-rich glimpse of Nawabi life at its opulent height.

Step ashore for a gentle walk to Khushbagh, a serene Mughal-style garden shaded by mango and neem. Paths trace geometric lawns towards historic tombs, their domes rising above lilies and low brickwork. It’s a pocket of calm beside the Hooghly River, where birdsong drifts through latticework and the scent of jasmine pools in the morning air.

Casting off, the RV Rajmahal follows the current to a turning point in Bengal history — the Battle of Plassey (1757). Here, the forces of Siraj-ud-Daulah met those led by Robert Clive, a confrontation that reshaped regional power and trade for generations. Step onto the riverside plain to visit the simple obelisk that marks the site; your guide unpacks alliances, betrayals and monsoon-wet gunpowder, bringing context to a landscape that looks quiet now but once thundered with cannon and cavalry.

Back on board, palms and paddies slide past as fishermen lift nets in silver sheets and kingfishers flare electric blue along the banks. By late afternoon, the ship eases to moor near Katwa, a river town where temple spires peek above trees and evening lamps bead the ghats — a tranquil finish to a day woven from gardens, waterways and pivotal stories.

Step ashore at Matiari, a riverside village renowned for hand-worked brass. Lanes ring with a steady music of mallets and anvils as artisans raise vessels from flat sheets, hammer-planish rims to a silvery sheen and etch borders with floral scrolls. You’ll see age-old processes up close — heating, quenching, spinning and final hand-polishing — while workshop courtyards display gleaming lotas, diyas and ceremonial bells. It’s a vivid window into the craft economies that line the Hooghly River, where skills are passed quietly from palm to palm.

Back on board, the river bends through fields and fishing creeks towards Mayapur, a major centre of Vaishnavite devotion. The skyline rises in white domes and tapering spires as we approach the famed Krishna temple, a focal point for Hare Krishna devotees from around the world. Inside the precincts, kirtan — rhythmic chanting with hand cymbals and mridanga drums — flows through pillared halls while pilgrims circumambulate sanctums garlanded with marigold and tulsi. The atmosphere is welcoming and contemplative, balancing festival colour with moments of quiet prayer.

As dusk mellows the riverlight, return to the ship with the clang of brass and the echo of bhajans in your ears — a day braided from craft tradition and living faith, held together by the gentle pace of the waterway.

The RV Rajmahal glides towards Kalna, where the river curls round palm groves and temple spires. Step ashore for a gentle cycle-rickshaw ride through lanes scented with jasmine and jaggery, bells chiming as we pass painted porticoes and courtyards. Kalna’s famed terracotta temples gather in sculpted clusters — panels alive with dancers, lotus borders and epics etched in warm brick — an open-air gallery of Bengal’s devotional art.

At the heart of the precinct, the concentric shrines and ornate facades showcase the region’s signature craftsmanship: arched doorways trimmed with floral scrolls, shikhara towers layered like hive combs, and story-friezes that capture scenes from daily life alongside mythology. Your guide unpacks the symbolism and building techniques that gave Kalna its reputation as a jewel of riverine temple architecture.

Cruising onward, we pause at a historic Imambara along the Hooghly — an atmospheric complex where Qur’anic verses run in calligraphed bands across lime-washed walls and arcades reflect in a long water tank. Courtyards fall quiet beneath a monumental clocktower; prayer halls open to colonnades where afternoon light slants across marble floors. It’s a striking counterpoint to Kalna’s terracotta — Islamic geometry and inscription meeting the river’s slow rhythm.

Morning light paints the water pewter as the RV Rajmahal slips downstream to Chandernagore — a former French enclave with riverside mansions facing the famed Strand. Step ashore for the Chandernagore Museum, where galleries trace the town’s Gallic chapter through maps, carved furniture, crests and coinage. Outside, shuttered facades and wrought-iron balconies hint at café society days; the promenade, lined with trees and benches, frames wide-angle views of the Hooghly.

Casting off, we pass the old Dutch station of Chinsura (Chuchura): church spires and gabled houses peeking through palms, a reminder that Bengal’s river towns once flew many flags. Fishermen raise conical nets from bamboo rigs, ferries stitch the banks together, and the shoreline unspools as a ribbon of ghats, godowns and banyan shade.

By afternoon, the ship eases into Barrackpore, cradle of the colonial cantonment. On a guided walk, trace the ceremonial axis past the brick Semaphore Tower — an early telegraph of arms and angles — then on to Government House, whose colonnades face sweeping lawns. Continue to the memorial-studded Temple of Fame and the dignified Flagstaff House, where trees cast long, cool shadows and the river glints between trunks. The narrative here shifts from mercantile rivertowns to parade grounds and drill squares — history told in architecture and avenues.

The RV Rajmahal turns south for a stately run beneath the great cantilever of the Howrah Bridge (Rabindra Setu), ferries skimming your wake as the skyline gathers: domes, mills, ghats and clocktowers in quick succession. Moor close to central Kolkata and transfer to your city base (Taj Bengal), perfectly placed for an afternoon that threads together the landmark stories of old Calcutta.

Begin with a drive through the gracious avenues of the Maidan, lawns sweeping towards the marble grandeur of the Victoria Memorial. Inside and out, the monument frames the city’s imperial chapter in galleries, statues and reliefs, while outside palm-lined paths and lotus ponds create a serene counterpoint to the bustle beyond the gates. Continue to Dalhousie Square (B.B.D. Bagh), the administrative heart where colonnaded banks and secretariats ring a water tank that once watered the East India Company’s dreams. The names read like an architectural roll-call: high pediments, ionic orders, pillared porticoes — a living textbook in stone.

Conclude at St. John’s Church, among Kolkata’s earliest stone churches, its quiet graveyard sheltering moss-softened memorials beneath banyan shade. Step inside to see the simple, elegant nave and historic memorial tablets; step outside to hear the city again — tram bells, rickshaw calls, crows in the trees — and feel how Kolkata layers eras without losing its pulse.

Your river–rail chapter closes in Kolkata, a city whose rhythm lingers: tram bells, temple conch, the soft slap of oars on the Hooghly. After breakfast and a relaxed checkout, transfer to the airport for your homebound flight, pockets perfumed with cardamom and memories stitched from terracotta shrines, riverside ghats and colonial colonnades.

If time allows before departure, browse for last-minute keepsakes — hand-worked brassware from Matiari, woven gamchha towels, or a box of syrupy rosogolla to share stories once you’re back home. As the aircraft rises over the city’s green maidan and silver river arcs, the journey folds into a vivid afterimage of eastern India at river pace.