The Golden Triangle and then a bit more

So picking up from last time, I made my way from Bardia to Delhi by riding local buses, the roof of a hard-top tuk-tuk, a cycle rickshaw at the remote and touristless border crossing of Banbassa and finally a very slow bus into Delhi.

I spent a few days in Delhi, and managed to gather a crew to hit the mean streets of Jaipur and Agra with. Will and Ed were engineering grads who were travelling from Kathmandu to Delhi on a Royal Enfield when I met them in Bardia. Again in Delhi I saw them with their bike looking in much better shape after a good polish, which they explained was in an effort of getting a good price on selling it back. I introduced them to Mark the Pole, who was on his medical elective from Perth (he now lives in Oz), and he opened our eyes to a world we would not even have given a cursory glance.

That world was one of sick and injured birds and domestically abused bears. The Delhi bird hospital, in the grounds of a Jain temple, was a real highlight mainly for its hundreds of pigeons with bandaged wings. The Red Fort, Gandhi Smitri and The Presidential Palace were good, but were nothing compared to the "Small Birds Ward" which Mark took me to in one of his numerous visits. I know that Jains believe in the preservation of all live, but its amazing that such a large facility can exist in a country with millions before the poverty line. Its even more amazing that I parted with a 50 rupee donation, when I do not given a single paise to street children or beggars. Oh well.

We went en masse to Jaipur, where we had an action packed day renting a tuk-tuk complete with horrifically crude driver who insisted on telling us the minutest detail about him and his foreign ladiezzz. We visited the Amber Fort, sitting in a rugged, barren landscape just outside the city, marvelled "The Pink City" where all the road lined buildings are painted a sort of orangey-off-red. The name is certainly misleading. And saw the Monkey Temple (bit of a deja vu with the one in Kathmandu you may remember I mentioned). There were some great views of the city, and it was one of the view places open on the Rajasthan state elections day- the one day we chose to visit, but thankfully it was relatively peaceful.

Early the next morning we trundled off to Agra by 3AC class which was a real luxury compared to the endless sleeper class trains I seem to be on. Obviously the Taj Mahal was only a minor distraction from the undisputed highlight of The Sloth Bear Rehabilitation Center. Mark laboriously contacted the staff so we were granted special permission to view the ex-dancing bears in their roomy enclosures. The tour came complete with sob-story video on howe the bear cubs were taken from their mothers by Gypsies, who knocked out the cubs canines, passed a barn through their nose and forced them to spend the rest of their lives dancing by the side of the road for human entertainment. Pretty emotional and sure dancing isn't for everyone, but the arty (possibly camp) bears among the enclosures were still rocking back and forth to the beat, and surely must have loved it! (Sorry WWF.)

Taj Mahal, now in the bears' shadow, had a bit of a tough gig to impress. But it definitely managed it from a distance. It was quite a "wow" moment seeing it fromk our rooftop restaurant and later at sunset, reflected in the water of the Yamuna River. But, without turning into a critic, after splashing out a tenner to get in the grounds, up close, I was a little disappointed. I mean maybe if Shah Jahan, the dude that had it built for his dead wifey was not imprisoned, he may have had time to improve it a bit. I am sorry, Jahan, building an identical black Taj across the river would have been cool, but only after you make the inlaid semi-precious stones and Sanscrit look a bit more fancy. Still though, whoever described it as "a teardrop on the face of eternity" does speak true, it was just that in the grounds I will remember getting photos where it looks like you are jumping over the Taj, more than the inside of the Taj itself.



After a jolly around Agra fort, the four of us went our separate ways. However not before I made a standard spontaneous decision which I think I may regret a little. Ed was trying out one of those Indiana Jones-esque-badboy whips. The guy was trying to sell it for $40, so when he said he would give it to me for my watch (cost about 65 pence in a Delhi street-market) I was delighted with the prospect of a bargain and gave him my watch before he could reconsider his proposal. Now the problem does not lie with my lack of knowledge of the time. It lies with how do you carry a bloody eight foot whip around the world for eight and a half months when my bags are full to the brim (or zip, if you like). The last few days I have had to either strap the monstrosity to the outside of my backpack, or carry it across railway stations and onto buses, in my hand. In response I get the odd wary or cautious glance, but mainly I get laughed at. No changes there then. So if anyone you know may fancy a whip, let me know.

Anyway, I headed on an evening train to Jhansi (where you catch the bus for the sexy temples at Khajuraho) and before I had time for the anti-climax to kick in of travelling solo, I was invited to a Hindi wedding. The whole town had their hotels booked out by the guests of this huge wedding bash. So the only room I could get that late in the evening was right in the thick of the celebrations. I already had a tough night planned as the onward bus left at 5:30am, but as even a little sleep looked out the question I hungrily ate the bountiful supply of chapatis and Indian sweets and interacted with the guests. And then I ate a bit less hungrily and interacted a bit less willingly. Until it got to the stage where I had to physically stop the over-generous hosts from putting even more food on my plate, and refuse to dance with anymore men to Bangra (songs I have heard in many a Leeds taxi. And obviously dancing with women would be too culturally familiar, dare I say normal.)

Onwards to Khajuraho, where I am now. I am leaving for Bhopal on a night bus in a few hours, but the jury is still out on Khuj. I will tell you why, in the next blog :-) .......

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