Weather: Hot, hotter than Delhi
We got up at 4am to get the 5.20am evocatively named Punjab Mail. The trains in India have both a number and a name.
When we got to New Delhi train station, we were approached by 3 touts who told us that the train was cancelled and that we can buy tickets for the Shabtabdi Express from DTTC. They were smartly dressed in tucked in checked shirts and held an official looking pen. The 3 we came across were stationed at the platform concourse, 1st floor near the real ITB and on the platform past security check. We were suspicious of them from the start for various reasons - they don't seem right, we had been stung and knew about the fake DTTC. We found our train ourselves on platform 3 because the arrival board indicated our train will arrive there although the information is not up on the departure board yet. On platform 3, 3 spanish tourists asked us to check they were on the right train. They looked as shell-shocked as we felt a couple of days ago, as they too had been approached by the scammer. They were in India to attend a friend's wedding in Hyderabad and they had travelled to Goa and now to Agra. One of the chattier girls said that when she arrived she trusted everybody and now nobody.
Our seats were sleeper bunks and we sat chatting to a very nice Indian family who were taking the train to Mumbai having visited the dad's sister in Delhi. The dad was a railway engineer and his wife a teacher. They had very cute kids, the stylishly-dressed older 8 year old girl wanted to be a dancer.
The Agra train station had a Uttar Pradesh tourism office. But it was so small and only had a poster and a printout on the door that we were wary it wasn't the real thing, especially after our Delhi experience. We decided to get a prepaid auto rickshaw to the Taj Mahal south gate.
I was pleasantly surprised to find a system in place where the drivers follow the prepaid prices and they all had a number so they had to wait their turn instead of getting passengers individually. We were told by our driver Guddu that the government put this system in place and it seemed to be working. The auto rickshaws also had to use the less polluting CNG and they couldn't go within a certain distance of the Taj Mahal. We agreed to hire Guddu as our driver for the day as he seemed like a sound guy.
Our entrance fee to the Taj Mahal includes shoe coverings and a bottle of water. We could not bring any food into the compound and had to store them in a cloakroom. Entering from the South Gate, we passed through a big red doorway.
Our first glimpse of the Taj Mahal through the doorway in the bright sunlight was not disappointing. Its white exterior glints in the sunlight. Taj Mahal, of course, was built by Shah Jahan as a monument to his beloved 3rd wife, Mumtaz Mahal, after she died giving birth to their 14th child. Along with the other numerous tourists, we took lots of photos and attempted to pose like Princess Di. I was happy to simply drink in the beauty and perfect symmetry of this world-famous monument.
The heat and not having a proper breakfast made me quite ill, and Guddu took us to an air-con restaurant, Maya, to recover. Most other customers there were foreign tourists. I felt better after lunch and we continued with our tour to the other side of Yamuna river. The river was quite dry as it was waiting for the monsoon to fill it up. The roads were dry and dusty and we drove through agricultural land.
We visited the baby Taj Mahal. Pretty with different materials making up the ceiling, wall and floor mosaic. It housed the tombs of Mumtaz Mahal's parents. It was also here where I witnessed an amusing incident. The toilet attendant was lazing around outside collecting 'as you like' money. A matriarch arrived with her younger female family members tagging along. She refused to pay to use the toilets until she has inspected the facilities. She went in, sniffed around and went out and said something to the attendant. I could not have foreseen what happened next. The attendant basically lept out of his chair and rushed into the toilet waving a toilet brush. That, was a mighty impressive lady.
Back on the other side of the river, we were driven to an obligatory tourist souvenir shop where we listened to a guy play sitar. Another air-con stop at Maya to escape the fierce afternoon heat. And onwards to the Agra Fort. This was even more beautiful than the Red Fort in Delhi. The Indian army had taken over 70% of the fort so we could only see 5 of the palaces. Shah Jahan was kept in these compounds towards the end of his days by his son to prevent him spending lots more money on a black Taj Mahal, so legend says. He could only view the Taj Mahal from the balconies on Agra Fort. If it was a prison, it was a beautiful one. The gardens were lovely. There were stripey-backed squirrels and long-tailed green parakeets.
Guddu then drove us back to the station. He has been a courteous and kind guide/driver and he has helped make our visit to Agra much more pleasant. Agra is a much smaller place than Delhi, more rural and slower paced. We may have been wrong to apply our Delhi big city suspicions to Agra. The UP tourism office at the train station may well have been the real thing.
We waited for a couple of hours in the ladies upper class waiting room for the 8.30 pm Shabtabdi Express back to Delhi. The train was a fast 2-hour train with dinner included. Back at the station, we held out for a metered Meru cab and it was cheaper than what we got for the black and yellow cab.
It had been a long day but we still had to pack and organise check out as it'll be another early start tomorrow.
We got up at 4am to get the 5.20am evocatively named Punjab Mail. The trains in India have both a number and a name.
When we got to New Delhi train station, we were approached by 3 touts who told us that the train was cancelled and that we can buy tickets for the Shabtabdi Express from DTTC. They were smartly dressed in tucked in checked shirts and held an official looking pen. The 3 we came across were stationed at the platform concourse, 1st floor near the real ITB and on the platform past security check. We were suspicious of them from the start for various reasons - they don't seem right, we had been stung and knew about the fake DTTC. We found our train ourselves on platform 3 because the arrival board indicated our train will arrive there although the information is not up on the departure board yet. On platform 3, 3 spanish tourists asked us to check they were on the right train. They looked as shell-shocked as we felt a couple of days ago, as they too had been approached by the scammer. They were in India to attend a friend's wedding in Hyderabad and they had travelled to Goa and now to Agra. One of the chattier girls said that when she arrived she trusted everybody and now nobody.
Our seats were sleeper bunks and we sat chatting to a very nice Indian family who were taking the train to Mumbai having visited the dad's sister in Delhi. The dad was a railway engineer and his wife a teacher. They had very cute kids, the stylishly-dressed older 8 year old girl wanted to be a dancer.
The Agra train station had a Uttar Pradesh tourism office. But it was so small and only had a poster and a printout on the door that we were wary it wasn't the real thing, especially after our Delhi experience. We decided to get a prepaid auto rickshaw to the Taj Mahal south gate.
I was pleasantly surprised to find a system in place where the drivers follow the prepaid prices and they all had a number so they had to wait their turn instead of getting passengers individually. We were told by our driver Guddu that the government put this system in place and it seemed to be working. The auto rickshaws also had to use the less polluting CNG and they couldn't go within a certain distance of the Taj Mahal. We agreed to hire Guddu as our driver for the day as he seemed like a sound guy.
Our entrance fee to the Taj Mahal includes shoe coverings and a bottle of water. We could not bring any food into the compound and had to store them in a cloakroom. Entering from the South Gate, we passed through a big red doorway.
Our first glimpse of the Taj Mahal through the doorway in the bright sunlight was not disappointing. Its white exterior glints in the sunlight. Taj Mahal, of course, was built by Shah Jahan as a monument to his beloved 3rd wife, Mumtaz Mahal, after she died giving birth to their 14th child. Along with the other numerous tourists, we took lots of photos and attempted to pose like Princess Di. I was happy to simply drink in the beauty and perfect symmetry of this world-famous monument.
 |
| First glimpse of the Taj Mahal |
We visited the baby Taj Mahal. Pretty with different materials making up the ceiling, wall and floor mosaic. It housed the tombs of Mumtaz Mahal's parents. It was also here where I witnessed an amusing incident. The toilet attendant was lazing around outside collecting 'as you like' money. A matriarch arrived with her younger female family members tagging along. She refused to pay to use the toilets until she has inspected the facilities. She went in, sniffed around and went out and said something to the attendant. I could not have foreseen what happened next. The attendant basically lept out of his chair and rushed into the toilet waving a toilet brush. That, was a mighty impressive lady.
 |
| Baby Taj |
Back on the other side of the river, we were driven to an obligatory tourist souvenir shop where we listened to a guy play sitar. Another air-con stop at Maya to escape the fierce afternoon heat. And onwards to the Agra Fort. This was even more beautiful than the Red Fort in Delhi. The Indian army had taken over 70% of the fort so we could only see 5 of the palaces. Shah Jahan was kept in these compounds towards the end of his days by his son to prevent him spending lots more money on a black Taj Mahal, so legend says. He could only view the Taj Mahal from the balconies on Agra Fort. If it was a prison, it was a beautiful one. The gardens were lovely. There were stripey-backed squirrels and long-tailed green parakeets.
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| Shah Jahan's possible view of the Taj Mahal from Agra Fort in his final days |
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| Agra Fort |
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| View of the outside of Agra Fort |
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| A garden in Agra Fort |
Guddu then drove us back to the station. He has been a courteous and kind guide/driver and he has helped make our visit to Agra much more pleasant. Agra is a much smaller place than Delhi, more rural and slower paced. We may have been wrong to apply our Delhi big city suspicions to Agra. The UP tourism office at the train station may well have been the real thing.
We waited for a couple of hours in the ladies upper class waiting room for the 8.30 pm Shabtabdi Express back to Delhi. The train was a fast 2-hour train with dinner included. Back at the station, we held out for a metered Meru cab and it was cheaper than what we got for the black and yellow cab.
It had been a long day but we still had to pack and organise check out as it'll be another early start tomorrow.
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