For the record I would like to point out that it was not entirely my
fault that I was wondering around Agra at 11 at night with nowhere to
stay and wondering if anyone was going to offer me a stable. Blame the
dodgy area codes for not connecting me to any hostel in Agra before I
left...
But whoever's fault it was, it was a situation with which I was not entirely comfortable. Finally, third time lucky, my adrenaline increasing with every "No sorry madame, no room tonight", (only too aware of how vulnerable I appeared to the hordes of youths loitering by roadside shacks eyeing my progression up the road) I stumbled across a scruffy little place and found an old bearded man sitting at the
reception who was liberally wrapped in blankets and appeared to be
meditating.
"Excuse me, do you have a room?" His wickedly twinklilng eyes fixed on me and he giggled.
"Yes my dear! Of course! 1 million dollars! Hee hee hee. Come this way, come this way..." and he sprang up some steps like a mountain goat and disappeared.
He hopped about turning on lights, chuckling to himself. Exhausted I followed him, agreed to pay 200 rupees for a grubby room and fell thankfully into bed, happy to have one.
My alarm went off at 5.15am and I walked the two minutes down the road to that which I had come to see: The Taj Mahal.
It is always a funny feeling stumbling across something you have seen reproduced so much, like coming across the original of a favorite print, stepping into the postcard. What can I say? It is beautiful. As you all know, it stands at the end of long stretch of water which, on a good day will cast reflections of the monument. But it is wonderful to see it in the flesh! I skirted round the babble of tourists, all primed ready for the money shot (Taj at first light of dawn) and made my to the other side where it was completely deserted and watched the sunrise over the River Yamuna and cast pinkish golden rays over the marble, fleshing out the walls with long shadows.
A deeply romantic place, built by Shah Jehan as a mausoleum for his beloved second wife.
As I left, the hoards of tourists where streaming in. Go before 8am!
I then took an auto to Fatehpur Sikri,an hour out of Agra. Ambitiously built Akbar in 1572, over 14 years, it is a beautiful ghost town the middle the desert. Perhaps predictably, there was a sever water shortage and the site was abandoned shortly
after Akbar's death.
Being a shrewd and diplomatic sort of fellow he took wives from all the major religions, Hindu, Mulim and Christian. His alliances proved very useful and he became powerful. You can see, in the architecture of the place how he has combined Hindu and Muslim ideas, the whole place is a celebration of fusion.
And then back into Agra, with my trusty auto driver, and on to the Agra Fort.
It was Akbar who made the Agra Fort a focal point for Mughal power and it became the capital of the empire. Although originally built to withstand invasion, the aesthetically minded Shah Jehan replaced some of the inner sandstone palaces with pretty white marble, similar
to those in the Red Fort in Delhi. Again, the Brits arrived and built more bloody barracks...
Shah Jehan was later imprisoned here by his fanatical and sadistic son Aurangzeb - You know, the one who cut off his brother's head and posted it to his father for dinner...
As I wandered around I came across a group of tourists, hushingly pointing out two monkeys, a mother and a baby, nestled under a sandstone colomn. As we reverently tiptoed round her taking photos, she suddenly looked straight at me and charged. I had forgotten that I had, strapped to my bag, a plastic bag full of oranges, biscuits and, most importantly, bananas. There was an explosion of crumbs and fruit peel and monkeys descended from every corner, much to the delight of the other tourists, and they devoured my lunch! Humph.
Hungry, I made my way to the quiet, smart oasis of Avil Vilas, a very posh hotel, ordered a kingfisher by the pool and gobbled their peanuts before catching the train back to Delhi.