Agra is not a place one goes to visit. Agra is merely a place that houses
the Taj Mahal. Given that, and the fact it is a mere 200 km from Delhi,
transport there is generally considered to be fairly easy. There’s numerous
options – train, bus, private car and piled atop a rusty pushbike.
Seeing as we had the weekend before we had to be in Delhi for Chinese visas,
we decide to spend the weekend seeing one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Little
did we realize the headache getting transport would prove to be. We arrive in
Delhi around the middle of the day, and decide travel agents will be the best
bet. We find a few trains and buses online, but are unable to book with
international cards. Had it of been further towards the end of our trip we may
not have bothered – realizing by then that if you want something done you do it
yourself. But with naïve, bright eyes we set off to several travel agencies and
begin to see a pattern.
“Hi, we are looking for a bus or train to Agra this afternoon”
“Oh, no no no. No trains available”
“Oh, that’s funny. It says right here there’s 24 seats left for the train
leaving at 7:20”
“No no no”
“Um..ok. What about the bus? There’s one going from Delhi 7:30 that arrived
10:30? That would be perfect!”
“No No. No bus”
“But it says righ…”
“You can get a car madam. Good car. Nice ride. 5,000 rupees. Good price”
It very quickly becomes clear that all these guys are top undercover agents
for car companies, and refuse to do their job of linking us up with transport
to Agra. After a trip to the train station, a conversation with a strange man
and an empty promise paired with a cheap tuk tuk driver, we arrive in a travel
agent. Disheartened, we walk in expecting nothing.
“OK, tickets for 7:30 bus tonight put on hold. Pay for them when you get to
the bus station” the agent confirms after a short phone call. We consider
leaping over the table and kissing him, but instead we thank him for being the
first useful person all afternoon and make tracks towards the bus station.
We spend the bus ride moving between different states of consciousness,
snacking on chocolate biscuits and booking a last minute hostel before slipping
into sleep and awakening on the outskirts of Agra.
“My Google maps says we are very close to where we’re staying. Maybe we
should get off earlier than the final stop”
“We will just stay on. I think it will be fine. It’s not that far”. We
later regret this decision, zooming past the Taj Mahal and the place we’re
staying, traveling a further 20 minutes and thereby tripling our tuk-tuk price
back to our hostel in the cold at 11 at night. Google maps, you win again.
The hostel we arrive at is less than impressed at our time of arrival. The
owner has had to wait up, and is covered in a small blanket asleep by the time
we get there. Very quickly we realize this is the sort of scene in a horror
movie that would have you screaming at the TV:
“Ugh No!! Get the hell out of there! He is so creepy! He just creepy
laughed at that – it’s not funny! Do you want to die!? Look at the rooms!
They’re freaky!”. We decide that we will lock the door for the night and get
some sleep before getting the f@*k out and taking another room for the second
night.
The Taj Mahal proves just as magnificent as the photos I have seen all my
life. The pride and joy of India – it’s cleaned to within an inch of its life.
Security also proves exceptionally tight, with both Jakob and my pencils
confiscated on arrival. They tell Jakob he can’t sketch inside, failing to give
reasoning. Apparently, the Taj Mahal doesn’t need to give reasons. Seven
wonders of the world and all. We spend the time inside looking at the building,
hand-feeding squirrels and taking memory cards full of tourist photos. When in Rome
Taj.
The whole experience certainly proves worth the trip; despite the 6 hour
delay at the Agra train station the next morning to get back into Delhi. As we
lie on the train benches suspended above puddles of spit and urine, we decide
that Agra is very lucky to have the Taj Mahal. Because it sure as hell doesn’t have
much else.
