Days 2-3: Agra (21-22 December 2007)

Not terribly long after purchasing my train tickets at Delhi station, I was there again to depart for Agra. I say not terribly long because the train was scheduled for 6:15 a.m., and the ticket seller told me I should be there by 5:45. It seems that many transport options here run at ungodly hours - did I mention that my flight back to the U.S. departs from Delhi at 12:15am?

This was my first ride on an Indian train, and I was quite pleased, not least because I had seen Wes Anderson's The Darjeeling Limited last month. One thing they got true to form in that movie was the lettering on the train cars - kind of retro-chic, with a very plain sans-serif font in garish yellow on a blue background. This ride shouldn't really count as a first journey, though, since it was only two hours and was on a Statabdi Express (all seats, no berths).

On the train ride I struck up a conversation with a woman sitting next to me whose accent I couldn't place and who had a horrific sounding cough. It turns out that was born in Italy but had been living the last 30 years in the United States, most of which in her current residence near Santa Rosa, California. So, she is my neighbor (to the extent that Los Altos Hills and Santa Rosa aren't all that far apart). She is a high school Spanish and French teacher taking a year's sabbatical and traveling for three months, the first two alone and the last joined by her husband. Props to her! Gives me some hope that I can continue to have significant travel experience throughout my life, even if less frequently than I do now. (Oh, and the cough wasn't contagious - it was from lung irritation from the horrible pollution on the roads outside of Kathmandu.)

She and I wound up at the same guest house, the Tourist Rest House, located near Sadar Market and away from the mayhem of the Taj Ganj area near the Taj Mahal. I think I've decided I prefer staying a bit removed from the epicenter of activity/the backpacker zone of a city. It does tend to make meeting fellow slightly harder, but the accommodations are generally nicer and I enjoy escaping the mayhem of the backpacker areas.

Since we had hit it off, we spent the rest of the day sightseeing - the Taj was closed on Friday for the Muslim holy day, so we first went to Agra Fort, an enormous complex - more like a palace - built by the Mughal princes of the 16th and 17th centuries. In addition to being beautiful in its own right, the palace has great views onto the Taj Mahal - unfortunately the thick haze (pollution? Usual winter fog? Both?) made it nearly impossible to see. Just before that, I had returned to the train station to change my departure ticket to a day earlier (I had booked the wrong day in my haste). I was told there weren't any seats available on the next night's train to Varanasi but I was given a "wait list" ticket and assured my changes were good that I'd eventually get a berth (more on that later).

We then took a public bus to Fatehpur Sikri, an abandoned palace complex and town that was briefly the Mughal in the late 16th century during the reign of Akbar. On the bus ride over we met an American guy who had been traveling for nearly a year and half - to our mutual delight we found that we had both been in Kyrgyzstan around the same time (August 2007) and had a good time sharing memories of kymys (fermented mare's milk), Lake Song Kul (the beautiful alpine lake in central Kyrgyzstan), yurts (the tents in which we stayed near said lake), and other Kyrgyz dairy products.

Back to Fatehpur Sikri: the complex is in remarkably good condition, and its most impressive feature is the 54-meter-high gate leading into an enormous courtyard mosque. It was so stunning that I deemed it worthy of inclusion in my yoga-pose-in-front-of-major-world-monument series of photographs (for those of you wondering, I chose tree pose. Thus far, my greatest work is upward-facing dog in the Palacio Real courtyard in Madrid). There were a remarkable number of Indian tourists visiting the site as well, since it was the Eid al-Adha holiday and many Indians had the day off from work.

I certainly felt more like an Indian tourist, and less like a Westerner, on the bus ride back to Agra from Fatehpur Sikri. We hailed down a public bus from the side of the road and inside found a seating arrangement like none I had ever seen before. On the left side of the bus were normal seats, but on the right side, and on top both the left and right sides, were sleeper berths into which people were crammed, often four or more in each one. And then there were people standing in the aisle as well. The bus driver and ticket taker took pity on us and let us sit on a tiny ledge up front, which meant that not only was I in the least claustrophic spot in the bus but I'd also be the first one through the windshield in the event of any sort of hard braking. Fortunately, on this narrow road, with buses, autorickshaws, pedal rickshaws, bicycles, pedestrians, and cows (yes, cows - sometimes donkeys and dogs too) clogging the way, we never got going fast enough to do any real damage. Well, it still probably would have hurt. We got home just fine, but there must have been 80 people on that bus.

The next day, I had a bit of a lie-in, forgoing a sunrise visit to the Taj Mahal for the sake of 12 hours of much-needed sleep - between my 3 hours the night before departure, the plane ride over, a jet-lagged first night, and the 6:15 train, I was starting to run a little ragged. I spend the late morning and early afternoon seeing some other more minor - but still tremendous - sights, most notably the Itimad-ud-Daulah, nicknamed the "baby Taj" for the marble shrine in the center of its courtyard, and the Mehtab Bagh gardens, which give a view onto the southern side of the Taj Mahal complex (unfortunately, looking south means that the sun is almost always in one's eyes, making picture-taking much less fruitful).

During this sightseeing run, I very nearly reached my exasperation point with Agra. The city has almost nothing going for it outside of its (spectacular) sights, and rickshaw drivers, would-be guides, and just about everyone descend on the visitors with a barrage of offers, requests, begs, and misinformation. Most troubling of all are the children, many of whom aren't beggar children per se, but far too many of whom are constantly swarming foreigners asking for handouts. It's always hard to say no to a child, but, harsh as it may sound, these children didn't leave me feeling like I wanted to give them anything. What they did leave me with, in addition to the initial repulsion, was some thinking of charitable contributions I will make to Indian organizations on my return. One justification I have for not giving to beggars is that I tell myself the money would be put to better use elsewhere - now I need to live up to that and actually give that money somewhere else. Suggestions (and criticism) about the above would be welcome. Anyway, Agra is dump: filthy, crowded, full of hassles. The Taj and the other sights are must-sees, but get in and get out of Agra quickly.

Ah yes, the Taj. As good as advertised. Stunning. The photos don't quite do it justice. Translucent white marble. Set atop a platform so that the only background is sky. Expansive courtyard and reflecting pool. Elaborate flanking building of red sandstone setting off the Taj's marble. And that dome: such a pure, refined shape. The only downside to visiting the Taj when I did (late afternoon) were the crowds. Loads upon loads of people. Twenty minutes waiting to get in (no bags allowed, but a cloakroom nearby). An absurd crush to get inside the central building to see the tombs (thank goodness I'm tall and a good barrier to people's pushing). Impossible to take a photo without hundreds of others in the background. So, what was supposed to be the piece-de-resistance of my yoga pose collection came out only so-so (side plank pose - an inspired choice, I maintain, but imperfectly executed).

A couple of hours in the Taj was enough, and I returned to the guest house for a meal and some rest before heading to the train station to see if my wait list ticket to Varanasi would get me any where. This turned out to be adventure enough, lasting well into the next day, so I'll save it for the next post.