I left Vrindhavan in thick mist but so full of happiness that nothing could have possibly spoilt my mood. I walked the 2k to the main road chanting as I went and calling out Hare Krsna to everyone and anyone as the entire population seemed to be calling it out to me as they passed by! Children, rickshaw drivers, tut-tut drivers, walkers, cyclists all greeted me happily as I walked.
At the main road people helped me find the bus stop, which turned out to be a rickshaw stop! A moment later a rickshaw pulled in, full to my eyes but with loads of space according to the driver. “How much to Mathura?”I asked, he smiled and moved everyone over to accommodate me, “No” I said smiling broadly, “How much first!”, he smiled again and indicated I should board. By now I was laughing, “First how much, bus 10RPS, how much with you?” He smiled back, counted the people on board (10 at this point) and said “10RPS” “Done!” I replied with a broad smile and climbed aboard.
A smiling elderly Indian couple asked me where I was from and the conversation flowed as best it could as we bumped along the pot holed Indian road. From the outside this rickshaw looked much the same as any other I have ridden in. Inside however it had been modernised (?) and had an extra bench that faced the normal seat and if one was careful with the knees you could get three people facing forward and three facing back. I was luckily one of the ones facing back. The view out of the back however was blocked by the three guys balancing on the narrow bench out back. Next to the driver sat another guy!
As we drove through the thick mist, we stopped periodically to pick up or drop off. The pick-ups were more frequent than the drop offs and soon we had 15 people either sitting or hanging to the back rail as we positively flew from one bump to the next!
Once into Mathura itself I asked to be dropped at the New Bus Station as I had no intention of running the gauntlet at the train station again. The Indian couple translated to the driver for me and with a look of astonishment he dropped me at the bus station. “You sure?” he questioned as I got off and paid him. I smiled, nodded and strode purposefully into the Station.
As a foot note here it should be explained that Indian buses are not the safest in the world. The drivers are on a schedule all of their own and collisions, usually head on, are common. That said you do get a big window to look out of, there are so many people on the buses you can rarely fall over if you have to stand for any time and if you catch the bus at the main station you usually get a seat. It is also very very cheap.
“Bus for Agra?” I asked the nearest person inside the gate. He pointed behind him to a bus that was pulling in. I climbed aboard, and was just settling myself in the back seat when we were off!
I unfortunately can not describe the scenery between Mathura and Agra as the mist/fog was by now so thick you could barely see the far side of the road. This was of little concern to our driver who COULD see the truck in front and was determined to overtake everything else he found in front of him!
We did stop at a cross-roads for a brief moment, mainly due to the fact that it was blocked by what looked like yet another head on collision. What was left of a truck was being pushed to one side and once clear we were back on our overtake everything mission.
Agra was reached in just over an hour! Total fare 42RPS. My change due had been written on the back of my ticket as change for 100RPS at the beginning of the journey was unthinkable. The conductor called me forward as we neared my stop and asked for my ticket. Change was given and when we pulled up by a hectic cross-roads he indicated I should get off here, I'm glad one of us knew where I was suppose to be going!!.
The bus pulled away to reveal a HUGE sign 'TAJ MAHAL 5.5k' on the far side of what appeared to be a 6 lane road! Rickshaw drivers crowded round offering their services, I looked at the sign, I smiled at them, “I walk!” I beamed, “But Mataji, it is over 5k!!”. I smiled, “The walk is no problem, crossing the road however is problem”
I walked to the side of the road, asked for a blessing and stepped out. Miraculously I made it all the way across with only a few polite horn blasts and feeling ever so pleased with myself I began my stroll.
The roads around Agra are indeed dusty and dirty, but the same can be said of areas of Liverpool and London.
Once more the architecture fascinated me,
An ornate tower appeared at the entrance to a narrow lane the main road.
Caged monkey proof balconies balanced on little wooden struts,
while the neighbouring properties preferred to cover themselves in bill boards.
A second tower appeared this time flanked by crumbling buildings
And what appeared to be an Indian sub power system??
Horns hooted, bells rang, people still called as they passed me on their loaded up bicycles but this time the greeting was 'Namaste'
Oxen rested beside the roaring traffic seemingly oblivious to the fumes and noise.
The road was quite built up on both sides but every now and again it opened to the left to reveal the Yamuna river, but between the fog and pollution it was not actually to be seen.
I passed a wonderful sign on a small hotel,
This must have been put up before they put up the huge building on the other side of the road! Three young men by their truck, seeing the camera asked me to take their photo and crowed around like excited children to see the result.
A friend arrived dismayed to have missed the photo so another was taken, the smiles on their faces said it all
We 'Namaste'ed, bowed and smiled, and with a wave I was on my way again.
Another kilometre and Agra Fort appeared out of the fog, its huge red sandstone walls as huge as those of the Great Red Fort in Delhi.
The fog/smog was still thick so the photos do not do this place justice,
Built between 1565 and 1573 it is said by the tour guides that Shah Jahan, (builder of the Taj Mahal) pinned away his last years here, staring whimsically down the river to the tomb of his beloved wife.
The truth according to the scholars, is that he was interned here when his son Aurangzeb seized power.
Far from spending his last years in mourning, the Monguls' most decadent emperor died after a protracted bout of sex and drug taking!! His death in 1666, at the ripe old age of 74, was brought about not by grief, but by a massive overdose of opium and aphrodisiacs!
He build some pretty impressive buildings while he was alive though!!!
From Agra Fort it is only another 2k west to the Taj Mahal - if you pay attention and wander down the right road!! 4K later and some serious back tracking, I was rewarded by the sight of the West Gate,
I forgot to photograph the east Gate as I passed it, realised my mistake and turned around! I did photograph the non polluting transport that walks the gardens outside though.
There are plans to make a 2k pollution free exclusion zone around the Taj Mahal as the pollution damage being done is extensive. To date however there is only a 500m ban. For those who do not wish to walk the 500ms alternative transport is available including an electric bus!
I turned right at the West gate and headed into Taj Ganj. 100m, still well within the exclusion zone I found my hotel. Hotel Host to be exact. It is basic, 300RPS for a small but safe room with attached bathroom, which I do confess to cleaning before I used it!
I have free internet, that unfortunately has been 'down' since I got here, but then again the net work was very sporadic in Vrindhavan as well, and a roof top view to beat all others.
The afternoon was spent on the rooftop enjoying the sun as it weakly made its way through the clearing smog and in pleasant conversation with Petra and her friend.
Travelling with another couple who were at the moment wandering around the Taj, she and her friend had just arrived from Pushka.
Along with two French girls who were staying in the Host as well, we chatted, exchanged notes and e-mails and generally had a thoroughly good time.
Photos were taken with the famous back drop.
Photos were taken of the Famous Back drop itself.
Birds once more took to the air, flying in wonderful formation.
I watched as two flocks merged for a loop of our roof top then separated once more as they were called back to their own roofs.
As the sun dropped I decided to take yet another stroll.
By passing the still queuing lines of ticket holders
I walked along the outer wall heading towards to the Yamuna River.
I passed through a large gate house.
That opened up into huge gardens.
Chip-monks played in the trees as I passed
Chattering the each other like the squirrels back home.
Monkeys climbed over the piles of masonry,
more interested in each other that the stranger walking in their ranks.
Half way along the solid red wall,
marble domed turrets spiralled up into the sky,
etched with art work both inlaid and carved.
Up close the size of these walls is staggering,
The power of this man, who could just desire this to be built and then have it built, to his specifications, is phenomenal.
I reached the shores of the Yamuna
Her slow churning waters as thick and sluggish as they had been in Vrindhavan.
I 'Namaste' ed to the Gaurds and asked if I could take photos, they smiled happily and with the photo viewed by all asked my name. The usual conversation commenced as they asked about my family and I asked about theirs. One guard remarked that my 1 toe ring signified that I was single? I replied that I had lost the other (it was lost in Moorea months ago and I still hadn't got around to replacing it!)and silently vowed to buy one as soon as possible
On the river side the immense red walls were lower,
allowing views of the stunning white marble inside.
The corner turrets were also inlaid with white marble and for ages I just stood staring
until I remembered to take a few more photos!
Monkeys now guarded my route back,
yet unlike the ones in Vrindhavan these simply ignored me as I passed.
I walked back beneath the huge walls topped with intricate designs.
I walked back past the queues that were now longer than before.
I walked out of the exclusion zone and straight into a Rickshaw driver who had stopped beside me as I had walked along the main road that morning. We had chatted for a while as I rested, although I had declined his kind offer of a 'Free' ride to the Taj.
“Hello Taxi Lady” he beamed, “Remember me?” I did indeed and we chatted some more. “Where are you going?” he asked, “Just walking” I replied. We smiled and parted.
Upon my return from my stroll he invited me for chai, we sat in his rickshaw and discussed my plans for Agra.
I asked about the bus from Agra to Ajmer, he didn't know any details but he knew where the tourist place was. Within moments we were off along the darkening streets of Agra, horns blasted, motor bikes squeezed together, trucks belched their fumes and I have no idea where we went!
The guy in the tourist office was most helpful, there was a sleeper bus that left at 9.30pm and arrived in Ajmer at 7.30am for 350RPS. I had no money with me to book the ticket but said I would be back the next day. Back in Taj Gani I said goodbye to Shamal with a promise to meet him at 12 noon the following day so that we could return to the booking office to arrange my forwarding ticket to Ajmer. So far, true to his word, he had not charged me but nothing in India is free, and so I waited with baited breath for the punch line at the end of my visit!!
Wow, Kerriann you have a great eye! I really like these shots. You have quite a talent. :) A.
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