Advertisement
Published: March 6th 2009
Edit Blog Post
After breakfast we went to see and savour one of India's iconic landmarks. Paying our 750Rs each we entered via the South Gate, mere steps from our hotel, though not until we had passed under the security arch and search. "Body ok but please look in bag". I was aware they had said no tripods but the tiny 4 inch collapsible one I had in the pocket of my bag I am sure would have been no problem. Oh it was. As was the book I had in my bag(no reading) head torch( no torches) cable from camera to computer ( no idea!) So off to the free locker to deposit said goods. On returning sans goods I attempted to enter but was forced once more to endure the security searches where I had left my bag and only just taken that which was not allowed in to a locker some 5 paces away. Regulations.
And so to the marble marvel. The structure so often seen cast in plastic or carved in ivory or stone or regularly as a tacky poster seen on the walls of most Indian Takeaways at home. Now here, a real life sized model of majestic
cubic symmetry. On plan, a square with squint corners, each main face having a main centre portal, flanked by four smaller matching ones, two up and two down. Each corner topped with a collonaded domed thingy with the huge central onion, the whole sentried by a minaret at each outer corner. I shall now reveal my ignorance here. This carved and inlaid wonder is not a temple or chapel or any other religious place of worship, as I thought. It is not even a building of use, save for the odd nesting place for a pigeon or 2. It is probably the world's most ostentacious headstone ( pyramids excluded as they are not ostentacious) The Taj was built in memory of a wife who died giving birth to her 14th child. We all know the type who "big it up" when it comes to graves and headstones! The 5 foot granite hearts, the life size marble angels, themselves anathama as who knows how tall an angel should be and if they were in fact alive?
Now for the Taj's magnificence. Here I shall probably sound like a heathen. I was certainly wowed by the Jain temples and have been
stunned by the odd palace and amazed by a fort or two but this edifice is not particularly ornate, intricate or delicate and factually, apart from bringing in the tourists, is useless!
Despite this and having arrived at about 9:30, by 11:00 we were all herded out. VIP coming. A foreign president. Who ever it was, had greater powers than our 750Rs ticket allowing us all day entry. Who cares, we were going anyway but poor sods who had got a day tour from Delhi.
Friday morning we walked round passed the park and on to Agra Fort, intending to cross the bridge over the river and back round to the south bank to catch the ferry boat to the north bank. The walk was really pleasant, few tourists and touts today as the Taj is closed on Fridays. The bridge hove into view but the map indicated it was a railway bridge. Indeed it was but a closer look revealed pedestrians and cyclists. We came to the dusty junction were the bridge crosses road and river and a road heads up to the station. Having passed beneath the bridge we were about to return when we were
Flotsam
At 7 o'clock from the red splodge, lower third of picture is a dog! stopped in our tracks by a drop of water. Immediately I guessed and retreated rapidly. The railway bridge had become as good as a gateless level crossing. No flashing red lights or warning bells here. Every cyclist, motor cyclist, rickshaw owner and pedestrian halted and waited as a quarter of a mile of train passed or even pissed overhead as train passengers made use of the train's lavatories before coming into the station. Best wait until all things had passed, as it were. The end of the train hailed the all clear and, as if gates opened, one carriageway then the other moved on with their interrupted journeys. And so too did we as we mounted the dusty embankment to the newly ironed track, across and to the worn steel walkway on the side of the bridge. This was non-tourist, no mention in the Lonely Planet but below us a different world. First the biggest collection of flotsam atop the grey-black sludge of the river below, grounds for foraging animals and children. Then the herd of water buffalo, resting on the silver riverbed sand in the shade of the riveted steel bridge high above, to the bank where the dhobi-wallahs
toiled with their loads of dirty clothing; though how the water cleaned them was beyond imagination.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.086s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 13; qc: 27; dbt: 0.0368s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
reg tubby
non-member comment
We had snow today so your blog is bringing a little subcontinental warmth to our winter (spring?) evenings. Keep your eyes open for somewhere we can buy an Ambassador to drive home. D