Agra

7th April

After an hour of circling around and around in the plane over central India because there was congestion at the airport, we touch down in Delhi at about 11am.

The benefit of flying around in circles is that we get to see the Himalayas out the window. Several times.

Our big plans to catch a train to Agra straight out of Delhi, fall flat when the only people we can find to assist us are taxi drivers who want to drive us all the way there. So we hire a driver and a car and set off on a five hour trip that would on NZ roads, take three.

I was expecting chaos on the roads but nothing really prepares you for the beeping and congestion and total lack of order.

We stop for lunch and I am hoping for a small authentic Indian eatery down a side alley.  Perhaps with a tabla player!

Instead, we enter what looks like a topless nightclub with low ceilings and mirrored walls. They’re playing Eminem on the stereo and we laugh at the taxi driver’s attempts to satisfy our Western expectations.

As we get out of Delhi, the traffic becomes more orderly and we travel along a huge stretch of dusty highway towards Agra.

The land stretches out for miles with chapati wheat fields and small brick factory chimneys belching out black smoke. It is strangely beautiful and we see women in bright coloured saris working in the fields and herding goats.

On the way we stop and I get out to stretch and this group of kids come running over to greet us. They are the most friendly and curious kids we have met so far on our journey

I particularly like the scowly one and the little one in the pink shirt who reminds me of an Indian Louie.

Driving into Agra is as chaotic, if not more, than Delhi, as there are animals thrown into the mix. There are cows and sheep all over the road, even in the centre of town. It takes some time to find our hotel and we are very pleased to arrive.

It has a roof terrace and this is the view.

As luck would have it, the Taj Mahal is closed on Fridays which was the one day we have to visit before catching a train on Saturday at 5am. After some thought we decide to stay an extra night at the Atulyya Taj Hotel, spend the whole of Friday booking train tickets and sorting ourselves out and the Saturday sight seeing.

It’s so full- on, on the street outside our hotel, that it is almost a relief to have a quiet day within the air-conditioned walls of a clean hotel.

Saturday morning we get up early and step outside at 8am. The Taj is open from 6am but that wasn’t going to happen!

We are immediately overwhelmed with small children selling souvenirs, horses and carts, rickshaws and tuk tuk drivers, all offering us a service of some kind.

Thankfully, our hotel is just down the road from the ticketing office so we can walk.

Somehow we end up with a very bossy guide called Muhammed.

Louie says he feels like he’s on a school trip. I do too.

Muhammed even tells us when and where to take photos. Now we have a collection of pictures that are exactly the same as the photos of  every other person in the world who has ever visited the Taj Mahal. Thanks Muhammed.

It is very beautiful. I hear Americans in tears describing how they’ve always wanted to come here and how they can’t describe the feeling of finally being here.

Three thousand people want to have their photo taken on Princess Diana’s seat so we can’t do that.

Luckily we arrived at 8.30am because by 9.45 there are hundreds of people pouring in through the Eastern Gate.

I concentrate (when Muhammed is not telling me what to do) on taking photos of the people who are predominantly Indian and very colourful. Unfortunately, I later deleted all of my photos off the camera and had to use Stella’s for this post. Luckily, thanks to Muhammed, she had all of the same photos on her camera!

Later in the afternoon we take a tuk tuk to the Red Fort.

Just quietly, this is much cooler than the Taj Mahal and seems to attract a tiny percentage of the same crowd.

Muhammed has returned to be our guide and the kids are losing their manners as he pushes them into position for photos and rushes us along just when we see something we like.

Inside the fort walls is a series of elaborate and beautiful palaces with gardens and water features. There is an entire living quarters and mosque for the 100 harem women. It is like  harem hotel with it’s balconies and little wooden doors.

Inside the winter palace that is a bit less ventilated than the summer palace opposite, we discover that if you whisper into the corner, the person on the diagonal corner can hear. We want to spend all afternoon doing this but Muhammed has an agenda and it’s not whispering into corners.

We make friends with a strange-eyed dog who follows us for the rest of the afternoon.

Muhammed runs out of the fort in time to catch a tuk tuk to the other side of the Yamuna river bank that looks back at the Taj Mahal. The aim is to see the sun setting but we miss it.