6-8th July 2016
Arriving in Agra I’m once again accosted by a magnitude of tuk tuks. I ask a local Indian chap from the bus, who speaks good English, to help me figure out where I need to go and ask him to negotiate with the tuk tuk driver. He kindly obliges and we agree 250 rupees but I sense trouble when I realise I only have 500 rupee notes.
Sure enough when we get to the hostel the chap and his friend, who he picked up en route, takes my 500 rupees and gives me nothing back. I sat there gobsmacked at his tenacity. I refused to move and continued to say “we agreed 250”. He tells me “that Indian price. You tourist”. I tell him I’m not moving. He then reaches into his jacket pocket turning away from me….. What’s he about to pull out?…… and proceeds gives me 50 rupees. I push back again and he relents…. giving me another 100 rupees. For only the second time I lose my cool on this trip, even though we’re down to amount I would’ve given him including tip, and shout “Indian wa#!3rs just F£#% off!” and storm off the tuk tuk towards the hostel feeling like the principle is more important than the money.
As I walk into the hostel I take a moment to collect myself. Even if I lost 500 rupees, that’s about £5. That’s not worth letting it get to me and spoiling a day, let alone even a single hour of the day. They need it more than I do anyway and I would’ve paid more for a taxi at any rate.
As I’m trying to rationalise myself out of the horrible thinking I see some familiar faces. The same lady I went exploring with is sitting in the garden with some fellow travellers. I tell the story and this helps alleviate all the bad vibes. Humour really is a one-way path to happiness and generally, it requires the company of others for good humour to ricochet off.
The next morning the first of my private, car-driven, tours begin. He meets me at the desk, opens the car door for me and off we go.
Karl Pilkington: “It’s weird how it’s classed as one of the wonders of the world. You wouldn’t think so by the surroundings. If it was on one of those property programmes, the potential buyers would say, “if you could pick it up and put it somewhere nice we’d buy it.” It really shouldn’t have been built here.
It’s a strange experience having a private car to only take you to the other end of the road but that’s exactly what we did. The gentleman got out and bought my tickets and we continued to the Taj. When we got there he shook someone’s hand and we walked straight in. The first benefit of having a tour I guess. He proceeded to tell me about the Taj and the adjoining mosque and then I got to actually see it.
What was just a glimpse at first. Through the gate which had 11 monuments on each side to signify that it took 22 years to build the Taj’s structure.
The next benefit of the guide is the fact he can take some pretty good photos for you, apparently!
Then as we approach the Taj, I notice just to the left is a mosque which I’m told is still actively used. Given that I have the privilege of being at the Taj during the Eid al-fitr celebrations it is a beautiful sight and a glorious atmosphere to watch the morning prayers in action.
After the Taj, the inevitable happens. I assumed it wouldn’t because I’d paid good money for the tour. Still. We turn up at a marble workshop where it all starts off very friendly; I’m offered a free drink, given a demonstration about the beauties of marble and how you tell if it’s authentic. Then, inevitably, they try to sell me everything that I neither need nor want. A marble table for £2,000. Nope, won’t fit in my backpack. A lamp? Won’t fit. How about a marble jewellery box? Well…… Actually. £40 later I’m leaving the store wondering what just happened. Nevertheless, I do love this jewellery box and having checked the company out and they are legit. So paying for a nice tour just means you try to get sold to at even nicer stores it would seem.
Next stop is about an hour drive on dirt tracks (thank god I’m in a car and not a tuk tuk here) to get to some emperor’s palace. What is interesting about this place is that the emperor had three wives. One Muslim. One Christian. One Hindu. He had a separate quarter for each one and the rule was supposedly that they were not allowed to actively convert anyone from any other religion to their own within the palace. This lends to the beautiful designs and architecture which blend the three faiths equally so there’s no favouritism.
This room has a pillar in the middle where the emperor sits and eight branches coming off this where his advisors sit to discuss state affairs. This signifies that although there are many religions (where the advisors sit) they are all man made and there is only one true God (in the centre where the emperor sits) so that there is no reason for different faiths to attack each other because they all feed in to one almighty .
Next stop, after another stop this time at a diamond factory (£7 down), was the Agra Fort on the way back. Another nice area with spectacular views from the top.
Soon enough I found myself back at the hostel, tipping the polite and unassuming driver in the meanwhile, with our new group. A guy I met, Jonathan, after someone pointed it out he reminds me so much of Karl Pilkington and it is absolutely hilarious and somewhat cringe worthy when we’re talking to people. We’ve also met a local Indian tourist and a few others to boot as well.
We all head next door to have a local Indian meal. Hilariously, it turns out that most restaurants don’t actually stock many ingredients (other than maybe your typical chicken korma). What happens is you order, say, a beer and then you wait ten minutes whilst someone hops on their bike and goes to the local shop to buy you a beer. Same goes for your meal. Unless it’s a chicken korma. Then you’re in luck.
The meal ends in typical Indian fashion with us getting short changed by 600 rupees. Thankfully, with our local Indian dining with us after one sharp word our change is back with us.
My last night in Agra and it turns out that most of us are following the same, typical, golden triangle route. My new friend Jonathan decides to get the bus with me to Jaipur and I’m very happy about this. Unfortunately, we did have to rush off and I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to our Indian friend, Manilla, who was absolutely delightful to be around.
I get some company with my Karl Pilkington stand-in and the hours fly by super quick. We also manage to get a £1 whisky (definitely not on the rocks as we’re in India) in a local bar next to the bus stop which is an added bonus.
The bus journey also provides me with my most India-capturing of photos.
Goodbye Agra!
I don’t like talking about “typical India”, I was at-times frustrated by stereotypes which became momentarily true. India is so big though that it’s really impossible to generalise everyone by such a small sub-section of people!