Taj Mahal

Shirley had set a nice early alarm and kindly made sure I was awake and heading out to the Taj Mahal as the sun was rising, ideally we'd have the tickets in our hands at 07:00 am and in the queue at 07:10. This would mean that there was fewer people as well as all the benefits of morning lighting that could make anything look good in a picture. The Taj Mahals grounds were impressive, the cleanest place I had been for 4 months. I took the usual pictures of the main building, some of the river next to it, snaking through the lush green landscape and managed to snap a monkey passing as I tried to get the light right. 

Some history - The building was commissioned by Shah Jahan, to mark the grief he felt at losing his 3rd wife during childbirth to their 14th child, her body is positioned in the main dome in a mausoleum . After the construction Shah was removed from power by his sons, and imprisoned in Agra fort, from the window of his cell, he could see the Taj Mahal, the mausoleum to his beloved wife. Sounds like his kids was arseholes.

A couple of myths to dispel -  there wasn't plans for a Black Taj Mahal on the other side of the river, and everyone wasn't killed / mutilated post construction "because he didn't want anything as beautiful made again". 

My summary of the visit.... TOO crowded, nice building, but the ticket / one price for you one price for us system is a bit of a piss take. And as for Agra itself.... one of the dirtiest and messiest places I have ever seen. I wouldn't go to Agra to see the Taj Mahal again, but I'm glad I have been. It is ticked off.... next stop, just a couple of short hours later... New Delhi ! 

The standard picture that you have to take...

No wait... this is the standard picture you have to take... 

No wait...

Pull my finger

A monkeys butt...and a nice view.

It is all in the timing of the picture.

The mausoleum.

I like shadows...

Shirley holds her camera in an odd way.

Agra - home of one of the 7 wonders of the world.

After the madness of Holi festival in Pushkar and before I left India I thought it only proper to see one of the 7 wonders of the world standing between me and my final destination. The city of Agra contains one of the gems of India the crown jewel that is the Taj Mahal. Reports from other travellers is that the crown jewel is worth the trip however it has been dropped in a bin. For the less well read out there this translates to 'Agra is a dump.'
The journey there would be a night train this leg of my journey would be with Shirley, a tiny American traveller that I had previously met in Varkala. We left Pushkar at 10pm and I slept till I heard the train slow as it began to enter the populated area of Agra. In India it isn't an offence to walk along the train tracks it is just stupid, and it appears that India's health and safety policy is based heavily on Darwinism. Survival of the fittest, richest and people with the train timetable. To slow the culling of the less intellectually endowed, the train slows to about 10 mph. I swept my curtain to the side and, while still in my bed, began to look out the window...good morning Agra!

 There was a myriad of people from old men to young girls all at the side of the tracks all staring at the train as it slowly snaked its way through the outskirts of what was looking like yet another rubbish infested city. As my eyes adjusted to the morning light and the scenes lining the train's route I began to understand what was going on. The hundreds of people I was looking at, the groups of people standing on the tracks were having their morning' movement'. Hundreds of people squatting with their feet on a disused track their arses over the sleepers were elbow to elbow dropping Cleveland steamers. They looked at me like I was the odd one as I passed with my jaw dropped peering through my sleepy eyes. I get that some people are poor but why not get the government to supply some washing and toilet facilities so the surrounding area isn't a giant toilet. For India and me this was the point the honeymoon was over. I began to count the days till I'd be leaving.

The train finally rolled into the station and we began the 'no' ritual.  "No tuk tuk",  "no taxi","no no no.... " we walked about 4 km a little further than either of us would have wanted to walk given he heat and smell but we made it to our hostel and dumped our bags. 

Shirley is a 'go getter', there is no sitting about so after some research she decided that we were going to a fort/ancient university called Fatehpur Sikri, it is a city and a municipal board in Agra district in the state of Uttar Pradesh, India. The city was founded in 1569 by the Mughal emperor Akbar, and served as the capital of the Mughal Empire from 1571 to 1585, it was about an hour outside of Agra. 

On arrival it was apparent that the various buildings were sprawled over a huge site, it was impressive and free! 

We had a wander around, took some pictures and after a spot of dinner headed back on the bus, which, thanks to a downpour that flooded a village and angered a load of farmers everyone took to the road and created a blockade... it took us 5 hours to get back....starting to hate India a little bit.

It is like when you have a girlfriend, at first everything is great, her quirky smile, the fact that she eats with her mouth open... after a year or so, you could happily wire her mouth shut and Botox her face. I'm afraid I'm getting like that with India.

The large square, with apocalyptic filter added for scary sky effect

One of my better pictures

The entrance to the city

The guard Goat

A oddly dressed ghost.

Shirley and her entourage.

Arty farty shot

Holi Festval - Pushkar

Once a year Hindu's in India celebrate a spring festival called Holi, it is the festival of colour. Made popular by Karl Pilkington's idiot abroad See here It would require a 24 hour train ride from Goa to Pushkar luckily Will and I had only decided to actually take the train up 1 hour and 10 minutes before the train left the station, 1 hours drive from our present location. We threw our stuff into our bags and sill feeling a little open minded from the nights craziness before I hailed a cab and we headed off at breakneck speed. The Taxi driver had a cup of tea on the dashboard and was munching on a fried egg sandwich. He asked what train we intended to catch... once we explained the situation, the need to be there within an hour he stopped the car at the side of the road... "hmmm...1 hour to get to the station ?" "Yes" I said... his tone went serious "ok!" and with the speed of a high velocity bullet the sweaty short moustache sporting taxi driver picked up his cup of tea and took a couple of slurps, and another bite of his sandwich. I looked at Will thinking it was a joke. He took the final bite of his sandwich and a couple of noisy slurps of his tea and threw the rest on a passing cyclist before rejoining the road without a turn signal or a casual glance to see if anything was coming. We were off again at break neck speed.

On arrival at the station we couldn't get a seat on the train, there was however standard aka, cattle class (literally ...cattle) Will and I tried in vain to gain entry to the women's carriage, and even the disabled carriage with 4 mongs shouting loudly as we spoke to their minder. Needless to say it took a 50p bribe to one of the ticket checkers to 'find us' a bed in First class and a bed in A/C 3 Sleeper. It was great. The scenery changed from tropical looking forests to large stretches of arid grassland / desert overnight. A few hours later and we were in Pushkar. We were greeted with the usual offers / best price taxis / tuk tuk drivers and after a bit of chatting to a local we headed for the local bus station and for the next 40 minutes we hung out of the doors of the bus taking pictures of the crap at the side of the road. By now you would have thought I be getting used to the rubbish but I'm not, in fact I'm getting annoyed by it all, I don't understand why people will clean their house from top to bottom only to throw everything outside the front of it. There is no pride in the state of the country.

Will and I did the usual and found a hostel argued about the cost, found something that they will do cheaper, like let us sleep on the shelves and threw our bags in so we could start talking crap to whoever was near. We met up with some random travellers that we had seen about 1,746 miles away back on half moon beach surprised by the coincidence I suggested we found somewhere that sold beers and found out where the following days festivities would be taking place.

That evening the square held a large fire and some traditional dancing, it was also where I found out how to get on to the roof of one of the local shops so I could get a better view of the madness and shout obscenities in the local language.

The pre Holi party

Small WMDs were detonated during the festivities

A photogenic local

Members of Team Miles

Blue Steelistan

20 seconds after stepping out of the hostel

Having a civilised spot of lunch.

The view from the rooftop

Shirley with her eyes wide open... sorry, too easy.

"I'm number one!"

The 'smoke' is actually paint dust in the air.

A random handsome chap

Madness...

A view of the rooftop from the magic view bar / restaurant / viewpoint.

Some happy party-goer.

Paint level - Zeus.

Note the disguised can of err...nothing officer. 

Poor lad is a right state. They even Holi'd his feet.

Nothing like a Breakfast, lunch and dinner Falafel to help ease the paint induced chemical burns.

Three days later the ink still hadn't come out.

Arambol

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