“I Survived the Taj Mahal”

Visiting the Taj Mahal is high on my bucket list, but since a trip to India isn’t on the horizon right now, I decided to settle for the next best thing—or so I thought. On a whim, I visited the Taj Mahal restaurant in Townsville, Queensland. Clearly, a restaurant with a name that translates to “crown of palaces” should offer something regal, or at the very least, a decent dining experience.

Townsville is a laid-back place with no-frills tastes, so I tempered my expectations. I drove up from Sydney for the weekend, hoping for a satisfying Indian meal at a reasonable price. I wasn’t expecting a royal feast, but I was hoping for something enjoyable.

What I forgot is that the real Taj Mahal isn’t a palace—it’s a mausoleum. And as it turns out, that’s a fitting comparison.

Even with my low expectations, the experience at the Taj Mahal restaurant fell short. From the moment I walked in, the service was off. Before I even sat down, the waitress was asking about drinks. At least let me get comfortable and look at the menu! I’m not picky, but it’s hard to pair a drink with a meal you haven’t even glanced at. I also learned you can bring your own wine—but only if you’re happy to fork over a corkage fee per person.

The restaurant advertises itself as serving the finest Indian and Persian cuisine. Using the word “cuisine” felt overly generous. I ordered butter chicken, vegetable samosas, and plain naan—thinking I’d picked a well-balanced meal. Mild, creamy chicken paired with crispy, spiced veggies and soft, chewy bread. Simple, right?

I was ready for a comforting Indian feast.

Instead, the samosas tasted suspiciously like something pulled straight from the frozen aisle of the local supermarket. Light and bland, they lacked any of the rich, aromatic flavors you’d expect. Honestly, they might have been stored in the depths of the real Taj Mahal—cold and lifeless.

The butter chicken was even more disappointing. At $23, I expected something rich and flavorful, like you’d find in an upscale Indian restaurant. But what arrived was watery and pale, lacking the signature creamy texture and vibrant tomato base. I couldn’t spot a hint of red on the plate.

To top it off, the waitress asked how hot I wanted the food. Maybe she meant spice level, but by that point, I couldn’t help wondering if she was talking about whether the food would arrive lukewarm.

If the prices had been lower, I might have let it slide. But for two entrees, two sides, two soft drinks, and naan, the bill came to over AU$100. For that price, I expect more than just survival.

I still plan to visit the real Taj Mahal someday—especially now that my friend Kim is heading there and will be keep posting her reviews of the hotels near the Taj Mahal. But one thing’s certain: I won’t be returning to this restaurant. The only silver lining of the evening? I survived to share the story.