Taj Mahal, Agra : This is why we came to India!

---

After our unusual welcome to Agra, the train dropped us at Agra Fort station at 6.15am. We took our time to get our bearings before finally getting a tuk-tuk to take us to our pre-booked hotel. A minute up the road a guy with slicked back hair hopped in with the driver and began to talk to us. He was very chatty but we were in no mood to talk. I needed a place to rest, having gotten no sleep the previous night due to my dodgy stomach. The greasy guy attempted to convince us to hire him as a guide during our time in Agra. We flatly refused, on the grounds that I was ill and wouldn't be going anywhere until I was feeling better. The real reason was that he made us feel uncomfortable and we didn't like his means of entrapment.

Our driver tried to bring us to a different hotel that sounded mildly like the one we had reserved with. We pointed out that it was not the hotel on our piece of paper, and were then brought to the Hotel Oasis. Sadly our room was not available until the standard check-in time of midday. We stored our bags at reception and mounted the stairs to eat some breakfast in their rooftop restaurant. As we were surveying the grime on the plastic tables and chairs around us, we were pleasantly surprised to see a portion of the Taj Mahal ahead of us. It looked a lot smaller than I had imagined it to be.

We were both feeling unwell as we took our seats and were handed the filthy laminated menu. After we had placed our order three men came upstairs and dragged their plastic chairs to form a row about three metres away from us at a good angle to stare at us. They didn't order any food, they were just there to watch the white folk eat.

The state of the restaurant would discourage you from eating at the best of times, but I couldn't even manage the buttered toast that was placed in front of me. We sipped on cokes and willed time to go by fast so that we could access our rooms.

Eventually we went downstairs to use the internet to book our flights out of India. Perhaps it was psychological, we needed to see light at the end of the tunnel. It was as if India was getting us down, but in truth it was our poor health. I was blaming the country in general for my 'Delhi belly'. More specifically I was blaming the rooftop restaurant in Varanasi for mixing tap water with the milk for my cornflakes. I was cursing them for not properly cleaning the cutlery. I was angry with the street vendors in the train station for having dirty hands handling our samosas and I was pissed off with feeling like a circus freak show.

Just as we had booked our flights to Hong Kong we were informed that our room was ready. It was a very average room with a bathroom that made you wonder if you would be cleaner before of after a shower. At that stage, it didn't really matter to me, I just needed a bed that wasn't doing the locomotion. We crawled into our sleeping sacks and slept for a few hours. Then Philippe popped out to buy water and crisps. I felt woeful, and it looked like Philippe wasn't far behind me.

The next day we pulled ourselves together and headed off in the direction of the Taj Mahal. We stopped briefly in an internet café to book a nice hotel in Delhi. After forking out 750 rupees each for the foreigner entrance fee, we were standing in front of the most breath-taking and beautiful building that I have ever seen. It was another one of those we're here and we're doing it moments. Suddenly coming to India made sense.

I forgot for a few minutes how crap I was feeling and just absorbed the amazing detail of the Taj. It was built in the mid 1600's by Emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his wife (and mother of their fourteen children!) Mumtaz Mahal, after she died in child birth. It took over twenty years to construct and involved many specialists from all over the world and must have cost a fortune at the time. I have never seen so much marble in my life. As you walk around, you get numb to the fact that it is all marble. From the South Gate it is framed by blue sky. Despite looking tiny from afar, up close it is massive. It is a masterpiece of symmetry and design - beautiful from any angle.

Shoeless, we joined the queue to get inside to see the tombs of the Emperor and his wife. It was a bit of a disappointment - the walls are not as detailed, the air is stuffy, and the crowds push and shove their way around the tomb. It crossed our mind that there we were, inside this phenomenally beautiful building, and it smelled of feet!

We didn't last long in there with the whiff and soon were elbowing our way out through the narrow doorway. Even though I was feeling weak, we sat watching the building change colour as the sun set. It was by far our most enjoyable moment to date in India.

Back at the hotel we knew we had to eat, but we couldn't stomach any more dodgy food. We donned our glad rags and crossed Fatehabad Road to the famous Amar Hotel. Finally we found a roof top restaurant that looked like it served food we could trust! It had a western menu, and the opportunity to eat 'normal' food was too good to pass up. I savoured some chicken pasta and Philippe wolfed down some roast chicken and chips.

The meal cost more than our hotel room that night, but was worth every penny...until we got back to the hotel and started to feel worse than before. After very little sleep we got up at 4.30am to make our way to the Agra Cantonment train station. We asked the man at reception to book a tuk-tuk for us. He walked up the street through the rain and returned with a driver who didn't speak any English. The receptionist explained to him where we were going and told us to pay him 70rupees when we got there.

We hopped in, and the tuk-tuk got going. Moments later the engine began to strain and wheeze. It was struggling badly and we were barely doing 10kph in the dark on a motor-way that had larger vehicles whizzing by. The driver turned to us and started warbling in Hindi. He sounded drunk. We just kept repeating “Agra Cantonment, Delhi Train”, and started silently praying that we didn't break down in the middle of nowhere. Any time that Philippe and I spoke to each other, the drunken driver chimed in in Hindi, looking back at towards us, and away from the road. We had to stay quiet to stop distracting him! It took thirty minutes and a fair few decades of the rosary, but soon we saw the train station in the distance and could finally relax.

We paid him his 70rupees, grabbed our bags and found our way to the correct platform. Our train was already there and our carriage was open. I was feeling rubbish, so I crawled up on my bunk and managed to catch a few hours shut eye before waking up in Delhi.

---

Comments

[Nuala]

India sounds tricky, but worth it. very sorry to hear you both are suffering gastroenterologically-wise however. Enjoy the beautiful scenery and keep up the blogs, can't believe you've been away so long now! massive Irish hugs in advance (way in advance!) of Paddy's day love, n