Beyond the Safari: How The Golden Tusk is reimagining a wilderness-led stay in Jim Corbett

At the edge of Jim Corbett National Park, where sal forests begin to thicken and the light seems to turn the colour of old brass by late afternoon, The Golden Tusk unfolds across 10 acres of lush green terrain. It is not a resort that tries to impress at first glance. Instead, it settles in gradually, through layers of greenery, thoughtful planning and small, deliberate comforts, until you realise it has quietly claimed your attention. Positioned as an experiential boutique family retreat, the property houses 68 spacious suites and villas and carries the promise of “Never a dull moment”. In reality, what it offers is something more restrained and increasingly sought after: proximity to wilderness without the need to surrender comfort or ease.

Choice shapes much of the experience here. The resort offers 11 distinct room categories that celebrate nature in different ways, ranging from elegant suites to luxury glamping tents that bring you closer to the night sounds of the forest without asking you to rough it. The design feels intentionally open-ended. Landscaped pathways curve and disappear, encouraging wandering rather than efficiency. “When somebody comes to the property we want the guests to get lost,” says Anirudh Lakhotia, Director, Ivory Destinations, recalling an early master plan the family rejected because it felt too linear. The idea, he explains, was for the landscape and the accommodation to blend in over time.

That philosophy feels especially relevant now, because Corbett itself has changed. The park’s mythology remains intact. Tigers, tall grass and the hush that falls just before a sighting still define its allure. But the destination has expanded into something more layered. It is now a weekend escape for North India’s major markets, a setting for celebrations and a dense hospitality corridor. “The destination has taken a bit of a turn from being just a wildlife destination to being a weekend drive,” Lakhotia says, pointing to Delhi NCR, Punjab and Haryana as key feeder markets. He adds that weddings have also become part of Corbett’s recent evolution. It is a direction The Golden Tusk has chosen to approach with restraint. “That’s one thing we deliberately try and maintain a fair distance from because, in our opinion, that sort of dilutes the kind of experience that you want to create,” he says.

This balancing act between what the forest allows and what the market demands sits behind many of the travel trends shaping Jim Corbett National Park today. Safari tourism remains the headline attraction, but its limitations are increasingly apparent. 

Entry into the park is regulated, permits are finite, and disappointment has become part of the landscape. Lakhotia is pragmatic about this reality. “Safari is anyway regulated by the park, by the forest department,” he says. “So I have only as many safaris that I can send a guest for.” As a result, he notes, it is fairly certain that not everyone who comes to Corbett will go on a safari.

He raises two pertinent questions: First, whether a safari can be elevated into a more premium, immersive experience; and second, how to meaningfully engage guests who are unable to enter the park but still seek a rich connection with the landscape. The bigger gap, he notes, is the absence of passionate companions inside the park who can truly shape and deepen the guest experience.

This is where the modern wilderness holiday begins to shift. If access to the park is limited and the safari cannot be the only story, then a resort must offer a different kind of immersion. One that does not compete with the forest but helps interpret it. The Golden Tusk approaches this through a mix of movement and stillness. Walks by the riverside slow the pace. Cycling turns the landscape into something you move through, not past. Pickleball and open lawns give families space to expend energy. For those seeking more thrill, there are adventure activities such as wall climbing and zip lining. There is also a playful flourish in the form of a unique water dining experience or other novelty experiences curated as per a guest’s preference.

Some of the most compelling moments, however, lie beyond the resort gates. A village walk offered as part of the stay acts as a quiet counterpoint to the all-inclusive mindset. You step out of manicured greens and into lived-in lanes, where daily life unfolds at its own pace. Dust, cattle, distant laughter and the rhythm of routine replace curated calm. It serves as a reminder that conservation landscapes are also inhabited ones, and that the health of the park is inseparable from the well-being of the communities around it.

Sustainability, often reduced to a buzzword in Indian travel, is approached here with a more grounded sensibility. Lakhotia speaks of it less as policy and more as responsibility. “We belong to this landscape. A certain amount of sensitivity comes naturally to us. You feel morally responsible for a lot of things,” he says. That outlook translates into operational choices. The resort has moved away from plastic water bottles in favour of glass, tightened waste segregation processes and placed waste management at the centre of daily operations. “One of the largest problem areas is waste management, food waste management or plastic waste management,” he adds. He recalls the shock of seeing how much plastic waste a property could generate within a week, when the shift was being made to glass bottles.

The resort’s sustainability efforts became more structured after affiliating with TOFT (Travel Operators for Tigers) India, which requires properties to undergo a rigorous audit process. “It gave us a more formal framework of what all you can work on and what all you need to work on,” Lakhotia says. The evaluations span ecological impact, community engagement, local economic participation and visitor education. Even small details have been reconsidered. Bonfires now rely largely on cow dung logs rather than firewood, with the resort moving close to an almost 70 percent cow dung logs.

Visitor education, increasingly, is what distinguishes a wildlife holiday from a wildlife experience. Corbett faces a particular gap here, the lack of passionate interpreters within the park itself. “We are unable to give that guest the right kind of companion inside the park who’s passionate enough,” Lakhotia says. “Are they passionate enough to turn that experience into something much more than just that tiger?” To address this, The Golden Tusk is developing an on-property interpretation centre. Set within a former conferencing facility, it will feature displays on the landscape, Jim Corbett, the park’s history and an ongoing documentary loop, offering context without overwhelming the guests.

This approach mirrors a broader shift in travel behaviour. Holidays are no longer about ticking off destinations but about building a few meaningful moments around a single experience. “We are taking holidays for smallish experiences,” Lakhotia observes. “We can have our holiday centred around just one experience, and beyond that it could be relaxation.” Corbett lends itself well to this rhythm. Birding walks, village interactions and long riverside silences scale more gently than safari permits ever could.

The Golden Tusk does not attempt to outshine the forest but prepares you to engage with it, and to find wonder that extends beyond the safari itself. In a destination grappling with overtourism, oversupply and the social pressures of celebration-driven travel, this measured approach makes for a compelling stay.