agra

i befriended a couple getting off the train as we pulled into agra cannt station, about 3 hours late. we agreed to take a rickshaw together to find a place to stay. we hadn’t even left the station before the first tout asks us where we want to go. he asks a stupid price and we try to ignore him and find someone else. almost immediately, he halves the price, but it is too late. he is pleading now, but it’s to no avail. if he’s gonna treat us like some stupid tourists who just arrived in india, then he’s gonna have to learn that not all of us are gonna fall for it. the next rickshaw wallah isn’t much better... and finally the third one who we go to to is more reasonable... but still we have to haggle with him. i have the name of one place... and off we go. of course, rickshaw-wallah doesn’t know where it is, only the neighbourhood, but eventually after much asking around, we find it. 

it’s midnight, and the hotel is full. after much discussing, the french couple get a room in a hotel across the road, and i find a place on the corner. had to haggle again of course when i just wanted to sleep. but it was a good room, although on the ground floor right next to reception, where there were now four people talking at one in the morning. even with the earplugs, i could hear them. i got up and told the reception guy that i needed to sleep and could they please lower their voices.

the next morning, i get up early and make for the taj mahal. i had to turn back after a bit when i discovered i had to get my ticket at the tourist reception area. here, they asked me for my passport. i don’t have it with me, i lied. i tried to convince the guy there that i was an indian national, but without i.d., i couldn’t get a ticket. i tried to see if i could get it at a different gate. i walked to the west gate and found the indian nationals queue. lining up there, one guy was selling a couple of tickets he had no use for. i bought one. too easy.

there was a lot of police and army guys around. this is one of the most important, if not the most important, monument in india. they weren’t taking any chances to protect it against possible bad guys. the queue snaked a few turns but it was not impossibly long. i joined it. eventually, i got to the guy collecting the ticket stubs. he tore the stub off the ticket and handed it back to me. the police/army guys frisked me and searched my bag. i was in. the taj mahal.

just an amazing place. words cannot describe the place. one man’s vision for his beloved’s resting place. i am usually averse to tourist-infested places, and have avoided this place like the plague the last two times i have been in india. but it was on my way this time around and it was well worth the whistle-stop tour. i wandered casually around, and although there were many other tourists around, it didn’t seem too distracting. i took the obligatory photos and imagined how  were many other tourists around, it didn'eception area. the corner. it must have been like building this place.

i went back to the hotel just in time to check out before midday and haggled for a rickshaw to the train station.it was hard to gauge if it was a fair price he was asking as i had no clue as to how far it was to the station. i was sure that they would all exaggerate the distance to an ‘out-of-towner’ like myself. as a rule of thumb, i would haggle it down to a price until they were adamant they would not go any lower (and i equally adamant that i would not go any higher). and then i would walk away and see if they would beckon me back with their ‘final offer’. he left too! but he was back 5 minutes later still with the same price... but in the end, he relented!! oh man, does it always have to be so difficult!! and it turned out that it was a long ride to agra cannt station!! for sure i can’t complain of getting ripped off.

 i get another unresereved ticket, to mathura junction and wait for the train. the train is packed full again and it’s fortunate that mathura is not far away. i am happy also that i don’t have to nurse a djembe drum this time. i had to fight to get off the train again before the masses piled on. from the station, i make my way in the direction of the town. by chance, i come across a ‘tourist office’ and enquiring, i get myself a map of mathura and vrindavan. at the bus station, i ask for the bus for vrindavan. i’m told to get a ‘tempo’, a bigger version of the standard rickshaw. as i’m walking along looking for the first available tempo going my way, the bus for vrindavan pulls up alongside and i jump in.