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Published: March 18th 2007
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Our coach
An artists impression of our bus from Dharamsala (or tajy marra for any cumbrians reading this)
Ok, toot toot, we're on another sodding bus, and this one's sodden too! Lest we forget the weather we're leaving behind, our treacherous carriage came complete with damp seats to bear us south! No matter, as we were on the back seat which kept falling off...only a 12 hour journey. Fortunately, the driver had a genius idea for fanning the bus, perhaps with the intention of drying the seats. As we approached Delhi, he decided not to pull out whilst overtaking another truck. Time saving, maybe. Foolhardy, said I. And I was right, as our bus rammed the arse end of the truck, depositing the windscreen and some of the front panels on the heavily potted road. Mums, dads, worry not. The new ventilation failed to dry the seats, which at that moment had probably received a fresh sprinkling of piss, but our heroic driver kept the bus on the road and drove us the final 30km al fresco, as they say.
Kimdly, the driver waited until we were only 10km from our destination before deciding he could drive no further and told us all to get off and make
our own way to wherever it was we were going. It's the attention to detail and customer service that really warms the heart.
And so we were back in Delhi, 2 hours early for the 9.30 train to Agra, and the Taj Mahal.
Indian trains - bloody brill! They're huge, make all the right noises and travel for thousands of miles. It made me want to be a train driver! It's these journeys that really make you realise you're in India (that and loose stools*).
All the guide books say that there's only one thing in Agra worth seeing...rubbish. Agra's a cool place - certainly around the Taj and the Red Fort. Not only that, but it's home to the world's most loveable man, Mr Deep, who works at World Ways Travel Consultants, just opposite the East Gate to the Taj. We stumbled across Mr Deep in search of train tickets and discovered a man who I defy anyone to claim they would not want as their grandfather. Very intelligent, polite, all the time in the world to explain the complexities of Hindu culture and not only that, but he doesn't rip you off and gives you
good tips! His first top tip was to point out a cheeky road down the side of the Taj to the river, from where you could get a great view for free. It was a fantastic way to ease ourselves into the beauty of the place. This cheeky road was also the only thing between our guest house and the Taj as we were staying at Sheela's, a decent little place that was literally about 100m from the gate. This, I'm told is easily spitting distance in India, where spitting is not only a fine art, but if the hocking is strong enough, is also a lethal weapon.
Then, the next MORNING, these things happened:
Ant fed monkeys toast.
Then helped build the Taj Mahal (technically I accepted an offer to do some masonry on some wall stones which were replacing the originals).
We chatted with Mr Deep about Hindu philosophy (see above).
We discovered the Red Fort at Agra which was ace!
I'm sure there was something else, but it was pretty darn good for a morning.
Eventually, we wandered into the Taj Mahal, which was, in the words of Andy Gray, a bit special. It's just
so big...!
But honestly, Agra's a cool place. The Red Fort there is blimmin amazing...a true example of how a man with limitless money should spend it on luxurious indulgence. And there's top grub at Joney's place too where you can get a mean Malai Kofta.
With a day to kill before our night train to Varanassi, we took Mr Deep's advice and headed out of town to Fatehpur Sikri, another fort - resplendent with angles and open spaces, and hawkers. It was also bloody hot, so we flopped about a bit, not really taking anything in. We flopped towards its Mosque which was awash with hawkers, then flopped very quickly back towards the fort. It was ok...a decent daytrip, but more memorable for the journey there and back which was, as with any non-rail trip, terrifying. We witnessed a procession of people on a pilgrimage to Jaipur, some of 1 million apparently, but mostly, we were bricking being in a car. The only way to describe a car or bus journey is like this: if at home you nearly run someone over or someone pulls out in front of you and almost causes a crash, you talk
or rant about it for ages. These things happen about 20 times a minute here. Meanwhile, the car/bus's horn continually blares. I never thought I'd say this, but it's made me long for that stretch of the M4 where they've shut off a lane to buses and taxis so that tourists get a false hope about London's traffic congestion.
And so, we're off again. This time on a night train to the holy town of Varanassi and the Ganges. 'What perils await them on a night train?', I hear you ask...
* actually, we're both doing very well on that front, thank you very much
PS. Cows keep walking past the door of this internet cafe.
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barlow
just catching up...sorry! just a quick thank you to Letty really for her flattery re my Take That rendition (I'm available for christenings and bar mitzvah's). As for you guys, first you were too cold, now you're too hot........you're not going to get any sympathy from this side of the world!! Did you get any photos of Mr Deep?