First day in Agra

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Finally, the time has come. I've been planning this trip for over a year now and I am still strugging to realize where I am. I am sitting in a makeshift internet cafe near the East Gate of the Taj Mahal. My first day is nearing its end. I was afraid I wouldn't get my reflexes back from when I was last in India 4 years ago but somehow everything seems both exotic and familiar.

My British Airways flights were both uneventful and unimportant. Kudos to New Delhi for having a clean and efficient international terminal.

I booked a prepaid taxi to take me to my cousin Henri's appartment in New Delhi, but when he started negotiating with another Indian passenger looking for a ride while I was in the back seat, I knew this might be a bumpy ride literally AND figuratively. Midnight traffic in Delhi is quite fluid. I started working on my animal checklist (First stray dogs: on the highway divider coming from the airport. Check!).

Addresses in India don't seem like an exact science. And you're often better off asking to be dropped off at a nearby "landmark" than the actual address. In this case: the police station of my cousin's neighborhood. Easier said than done: He stank at directions (and just plain stank also). I'm pretty sure the driver insulted me in a local language and he even asked me for extra money because he had to go through detours before finding the destination. I played my tough guy card and he caved.

Finally at Henri's! He lives with an Indian-American girl (not the Pocahontas kind) in an appartment in a nice, quiet and safe neighborhood. Between the chit-chat and the preparations for the next steps of the trip (namely the Shatabdi Express to Agra at 6AM), we stayed up until the new taxi came to bring me to the train station. I'm looking forard to spending more time with Henri when I get back to Delhi for the end of the trip.

ADVICE FOR TRAVELERS: Don't trust people who approach you directly. If you have a question, ask someone. One guy was all "Mister! Mister!" with me, claiming that the "WS" on my ticket meant "Wait for seat" and that I was on a waiting list... Yeah right. I played my second tough guy card and powered to the platform. People sleeping on the floor, groups of tourists gathering around their guides, Chai-wallahs preparing for morning rush hour: it all brings back memories. I'm definitely not in unknown territory.

The train ride was good. You even get a bottle, a morning tea or coffe and a little breakfast (Cutlets with toast). It seemed like every time I started to nod off, the waiter would put something on my table. I was rubbing elbows with a teenage girl who was charging her phone on the wall next to me, and actualy seemed to like it...

Once in Agra, I jumped into the prepaid rickshaw of the, as I discovered, highly recommended KK. The friendly conversation turned into a sales pitch for his 1-day tour of Agra service, using references from other tourists written on a bunch of old and used paper that looked more like the Dead Sea scrolls than a notebook. I blind-sided him with my nice guy card: sorry not interested.

Hotel Sheela near the East Gate of the Taj Mahal can boast a great location but a mediocre double standard room (I don't mind). They have a quiet courtyard with a decent restaurant (Lower your expectations, people!). We'll see how the night goes.

I tried sleeping for a bit (failed). And decided to go find a quiet place to eat: had curry paneer at a roof top restaurant which was neither on the roof of the building nor on the top. Friendly staff with straight-to-the-point food. The name of the restaurant? "The Food Restaurant"...

First stop: Agra Fort. 300 rupees for foreigners. Not surprisingly, someone comes to me asking to be my guide. "You know what? I'm kind of in the mood for it". 70-year-old Aziz was very likeable, probably very knowledgeable but unfortunately not that interesting: most of what he said I already knew or was just written throughout the Fort anyways. I had to fork out a shameful amount to pay him but I don't necessarily regret it. He makes for good TV (holiday movies at least). The Fort itself is beautiful and you can sense the grandeur of its heyday. A must-see.

Next stop: Chini-Ka-Waza (probably not spelled right). Meh. Anywhere else it would stand out but here, it just doesn't compare to the rest. The Baby Taj was my next destination. It's shaped like a jewelry box of marble encrusted with semi-precious stones and painted in bright colours. A major architecture breakthrough that eventually inspired the Taj Mahal. The gardens around the Tomb are lovely and I spent most of the time lounging on benches reading, drinking water and watching families enjoy their time. The inside is gorgeous and peaceful and is definitely worth the "shoes-off" visit. (First monkeys: clowning around the walls of the gardens. Check!).

For the way back, I trusted the scrawny legs of a cycle rickshaw to go all the way to the hotel. The poor man struggled, even as I pushed the cycle with him in hills. Eventually we got there and I was able to take a good well-deserved low pressure lukewarm shower. Nice!

Daily nugget: unusual graffittis on the Delhi highway. They're like giant public twitter updates. Here's a sample:
- "I just want U back :-("
- "I hate my life"
- "Please forgive me"

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