Off to Agra (vation)

Farewell Jaipur!

Bags packed and secured atop the Innova chariot the party assumed their respective positions (Rajiv driving, Nate beside him, Kevin and Jen in the middle row, Mose, Esther and Yvonne in the far back reaches of the Toyota) and headed down the highway to Agra. Before we left Jaipur city limits, however, Rajiv suggested we try ‘the best lassi in India’. We obliged and my God, what revelations. Served in mud cups the liquid was thick and sweet and topped with an ample layer of buffalo cream! Heaven!  

Best Lassi in India!

Around midday, we had lunch on the outskirts of Fatehpur Sikri, just inside the UP border. Rajiv, ever the Fixer, arranged for a local guide to meet us at the monument around 100pm. Taj, was 46 years old and had been chewing pan for about 45.5 of them. His teeth were stained deep red but he knew his history. A local man, he spoke confidently and clearly about the myriad stories of this most fabled of India’s Mughal monuments, though some in the group (all except Nate, actually) found his heavy accent a challenge to decipher.  Still, the hour and a bit spent at Fatehpur, the place where Sufi saint Salim Chisti is buried, passed too quickly with all four adults regretting that there was no more time to absorb the beauty and majesty of the red sandstone and marble.

Marble screen at tomb of Salim Chisti

But the Taj Mahal awaited us 40 kms (I hr) down the road. We entered through the West Gate (Purani Mandi/Old Market) and after passing through incredible security checks lay our amazed eyes upon the Wonder. 

Thousands of people distracted the feelings and emotions at first as everyone was all cameras and shuffling about. But such is the Mahal that all unessential things melt before it. We wandered about the great building for nearly two hours, taking in its glory and majesty as best we could.  As the evening deepened the Taj glowed brighter and whiter until at last it was just a faded silhouette waiting for the full moon to rise and make it come to life again.  Kevin, who had not seen the building before this, confirmed that he had tears in his eyes as he viewed the tomb of Mumtaz Mahal. “It has exceeded my expectations,” he confessed as we quietly moved toward the exit.

Can't stop looking at the Taj

Now, before we had come far on this particular day’s journey we had been informed by Javed that our train to Varanasi was running at least 5 hours late.  Luckily we had two hotel rooms booked in Agra to give us the opportunity to eat, shower and rest before heading to Tundla Junction (an hour’s drive away). 

Dinner is always eaten out but rarely is it as farcical as in the roof top Fawlty Towers dining salon of the Taj Inn. The dining room was indeed situated at the very top of the Inn with plate glass windows looking out on the after-dark din of a very busy Agra intersection.  When we arrived, not a soul was visible but eventually a collection of slow moving and slightly hesitant, but uniformed staff were milling about, if with little apparent purpose. A young man took our drink orders (beer and lemon soda) and was pressed to pay special attention to the early arrival of sandwiches and chips for the young ones.

Adult orders (all Indian food) were also placed with a final late inclusion of masala peanuts.      After a long day of travel and history we were looking forward to a quick meal and an early tuck into bed before waking in a few hours for the next leg of the journey.  The beer was cool and tasty. A couple more were ordered but still no food emerged from the kitchen. What did emerge, on the other other hand, was a series of heads that poked tentatively out from the kitchen like those of startled tortoises.  After more than 30 minutes half of the children’s food was produced with a hurried promise that ‘chips’ would follow immediately.   This didn’t happen.

In the meantime, some dishes of curry and what looked from a distance to resemble freshly baked roti were laid on the bar and then abandoned. Three men in white shirts talked quietly about the day’s events. A fourth played with a phone and a darkened computer. Not one connected the dot of the food to the one of 6 hungry white people a mere 20 feet away.  More turtle heads popped in and out. A waiter moved about the room but took and delivered no orders.  

Jenny had hit her limit. She moved assertively toward the bar, grabbed the food and banged it down in front of the rest of us. A few of us started to eat while Jen glowered.  Soon the chips were delivered but by this time the kids had long finished their club sandwiches.  After several more minutes the rest of the order was delivered. And consumed quickly. It was not hard to resist the urge to order dessert.

At 1030 we were in the lobby, repacking the Innova. By 1125 we were on Platform 3 waiting for the train. Rajiv, our friendly and efficient and safe driver bade the kids a warm bye bye and headed back to Delhi.  At 100am we boarded the said train, also known as the 14006 Down Lichchvi Express.