Golden Triangle Part 5 : Aggro in Agra (How Not to Travel by Train!)

After being virtually forced into buying the rug, we made it to Fatehpur Sikri en-route to Agra.  Built during the second half of the 16th century by the Emperor Akbar, Fatehpur Sikri (the City of Victory) is a World Heritage Site.  "It was the capital of the Mughal Empire for only some 10 years. The complex of monuments and temples, all in a uniform architectural style, includes one of the largest mosques in India, the Jama Masjid".   

By this point we already thinking "Another City, Another Mosque".  They all seem to merge into each other after a while..perhaps we are just cultural no hopers.

After watching a strange lady making yoga shapes in one of the archways, we decided it was time to get away, and drove on the 1.5 hours or so to Agra.

I won't go into great detail about Agra except to say that we visited the Taj Mahal first thing in the morning when there was still a queue at the expected sunrise time of 6.00am.  But it was so worth getting there that early as the mausoleum was definitely more beautiful and far less crowded at that time in the morning.  We found ourselves a crazy little old man of a tour guide who told us very little about the building, but was an ace at pushing other tourists off the prime photography posing sites - ie the Lady Di bench.  With him in tow, La Visitante and I were able get great photos separately and together - I was only sorry I hadn't found him when I previously visited the Taj Mahal with my husband.


Crazy tour-guide-cum-David-Bailey-Royal-Photographer

Later that day we decided to start getting ready for the rather dreaded 12 hour rail journey between Agra Fort and Varanasi.  Unfortunately, although I had booked the tickets well in advance (second class air conditioned or "2 AC"), we had only been 'Waitlisted".  This meant that the train was fully booked and that we were on a waiting list.  We were at positions 6 and 7.  You can book train tickets from 60 days before the travel date but what happens is that travel agents get ahead by booking up as many tickets as they can in the hope of selling them on to the public themselves.  You've therefore gotta be quick if you are going to use the on-line train booking system (I used MakeMyTrip.com where you can now book Indian National Railway tickets) rather than go and buy Tourist Quota tickets at selected stations which is what I should have done.

You can check your waitlisted status online to see if any one drops out.  On the day of travel at 9am we were still at positions 6 and 7.  By midday we were at 3 and 4 which was a little but still useless progress.  Our train journey was at 9.30pm so I was getting very nervous by this point.  At 3pm La Visitante and I took ourselves off to Agra Fort train station to see if anything could be done. 

We hounded the man behind the glass partition for about an hour.  But it seemed that no improvement to our situation could be made there and then.  He told us to buy a 'general ticket' but I was not sure what this meant. Then he said come back at 5pm to see if any passengers had not shown up for the train as it had progressed from its starting point in Jodhpur. There was no way we could not get on this train as it would mess up our schedule - we were flying back to Mumbai from Varanasi and if we missed this train, we would more than likely end up missing that flight.

When we went back at 5pm. we found the same guy and he told us we had moved up to positions 1 and 2.  Relief!! Surely this would mean that we would get on...surely someone else would not show up for the train and we would be safe!  I should have touched wood.

At 5.30 the railway clerk checked again ...this would be the last stop before Agra and the last chance for a vacancy in our carriage.  But alas!  We dropped off the manifesto altogether...there were to be no spare seats by the time the train got to Agra!  I was in a real panic now but the clerk said don't worry, go and find THE MAN IN THE BLACK HOOD when the train comes in and he will help you.  Wow, I would go and see the grim reaper, this did not bode well.

Our third and final visit to the station was an hour before the train was due in.  The platform was absolutely chokka with locals and tourists alike.  I forgot to mention that it was also the peak of Diwali that night - so there were more people than usual, trying to get home to their families over the period of celebration.  I could see where this was leading.

I checked the lists that were posted up on the wall and I definitely could not see our names there.  So I went hunting for THE MAN IN THE BLACK HOOD.  I walked up and down the platform about four times with no luck.  The platform is about a mile long.  No joke.  Then a policeman wielding a big stick pointed out THE MAN IN THE BLACK HOOD to me (being actually a man in a black cap...not half as sinister).  I went running up to him to see if he could help me but he said come back later when the train arrived on the platform.  I was too early to hassle him.

It was 9.25 and we were feeling extremely frantic.  I had left La Visitante guarding our not insubstantial luggage (all the shopping from Jaipur) and local people were coming up to her and just staring....poor thing.  In the mean time, I had not been able to track down the same MAN IN THE BLACK HOOD but instead another MAN IN A BLACK JACKET.  This guy was not helpful and kept trying to brush me off.  As the train, our train came into the station, he started walking up to the front end with me running after him, trying to communicate and ask him how we could get on to this train (I was trying to ask him in an indirect manner if it was possible to bribe him!)  All I got was short shrift and told to head down the Sleeper Carriage.  The sleeper carriage is basically the bottom of the pile when it comes to train accommodation in India.  Nevertheless, La Visitante and I ran down to the other end, dragging our suitcases/Jaipur shopping, passing each sleeper carriage and trying to see if there was a free spot.  There was not.  All there was, were millions of bodies, with faces peering out of barred, glassless windows at us.  So we ran all the way back up the platform (again!) where the MAN IN THE BLACK JACKET was fiddling around with his paperwork.  I started pleading with him - "please let us on please let us on, how much how much?".  Angrily he shrugged us off again and shouted at us that we would travel in the General Carriage.  Agh! I knew that we definitely had a ticket for the General Carriage as we'd been told to buy one by the Railway Clerk.  So once again, La Visitante and I picked up our suitcases and ran all the way to the other end of the train.  Like I said before the train is about a mile long.  No Joke.  And I am very unfit.

So we reached the General Carriage with about three minutes to spare before the train is due to pull out of the station.  You know I said that the Sleeper Carriage is the bottom of the pile when it comes to train accommodation...well I was wrong!  The General Carriage has only bench seats and they allow as many people that can cram on to, well...cram on.  The door was blocked with standing men, women and children and I could already see that people were already sitting on top of each other in the carriage. Undiscouraged, La Visitante tried to clamber on top of the bodies so that I could pass up the suitcases.  But it was impossible.  And besides which I refused.  I was distraught but I could not travel for 12 hours overnight like this. I refused to go any further or make any attempt to join this unwieldy bunch of humans, goats and chickens.

In one last ditch attempt I shouted to La Visitante to start running back to the AC compartments.  I just had a feeling that we should try something.  I was in a terrible sweat at this point but we ran back again up the length of the train.  I spotted a gap in the doorway of one of the carriages and shouted to jump on.  I went first whilst my friend passed up the cases.  But then we turned around and who should appear in the doorway but THE MAN IN THE BLACK JACKET.  He gestured to us to get off the train.  He had a really scary look on his face.  An Indian passenger appeared next to him.  I was so exhausted I could not move.  He gestured again and this time three armed guards appeared behind him!!  Oh my god, we are going be thrown in jail for boarding a train without proper tickets!!  Then, on cue, I burst into tears.  I start wailing..."please please let us stay on the train...we have to get to Varanasi!".  The Indian gentleman talks quietly to the guard.  Then I realise that we are doomed and start to try and drag our bags back off the train. But then he puts his hand up as if to stop me in my tracks!  The Indian gentleman speaks to him again and then turns around to address us.  "Dont' worry, don't cry, he is going to help you...".

Oh my god THE MAN IN THE BLACK JACKET is going to help us??  Turns out there are two spare seats in 3AC (Third class Air Conditioned) and he is going to sell us a ticket.  But only because I started crying.  Man is that what it takes to get on a train around here? After this particular 'fat contoller's' display of power, I am really not impressed but I try to show some charm in order to complete the transaction.  He is slow and methodical about writing out a replacement ticket (no bribes accepted, clearly). Eventually we are shown our seats by the nice Indian gentleman that helped us (and is sitting two rows down).  I slump down next to two other back-packing couples who I had previously met on the train platform and who had also advised me they were on a waitlist (but further down than us!)

We could only conclude that the MAN IN THE BLACK JACKET was a sexist, conniving B*****D.

After 12 hours of not sleeping on a bunk suspended from the ceiling from what looked like a piece of spaghetti, we arrived safely in Varanasi. But with the opinion that we would never travel by long distance train in India again!

3AC bunk bed (one of three tiers, this is the top)

More bunks.
I won't show you the picture of the toilet that La Visitante took -
it will put you off train travel forever!

On a brighter note...more images from our visit to the Taj Mahal:



BombayJules makes her first appearance on the blog!

You just can't ever get bored of it.....The Taj at sunrise

I love these ladies - visiting from a rural village (I wonder if they travelled by train?.....)

And some more.  I bet they would have loved this photo - not having cameras themselves

 

The Unforgettable Taj Mahal

I have seen some pretty amazing sights in my life in terms of landscape and architecture; my favourites to date being Mount Fuji, a magical vision of Japanese serenity and the gigantic Cristo Redentor atop Corcovado in Rio.

But nothing could prepare me for my first glimpse of the Taj Mahal.  The most amazing and unforgettable building in the world - to see it shrouded in early morning mist leaves you speechless - such an ethereal, unreal tribute to a loved one. It is hard to believe that the Taj Mahal is actually a mausoleum - built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan in memory of his beloved third wife Mumtaz Mahal.  She must have been one amazing lady.  And it leaves you wondering how you will be represented after departing from this world (no pressure Mr Jules).

We visited the Taj as part of a long weekend starting in Gwalior (1.5 hour direct flight from Mumbai, and only a two hour drive from Agra, which is so much better than coming the other way from Delhi, over four hours drive away if you are on a short weekender).  Gwalior itself was extremely interesting and so will write about it in my next post.

We set off by car & driver from our hotel in Gwalior at six in the morning in the hope of arriving early enough in Agra to beat the crowds.  But as can only happen to us,  Saturday 27th October was not the most auspicious of days for tourists to visit the Taj Mahal.  As it turns out, because it was Eid (one of the most important dates on the Muslim calendar) the authorities were allowing free access to anyone into site.  And when I say anyone, I mean everyone! Already at 8am, there were tens of thousands of people streaming through the gates, mostly men dressed in white cotton salwar kameez and flat topped kufi head wear racing to get to prayers at the Taj Mahal Mosque (masjid) aside the main mausoleum. By the time we got through security checks and had walked through the Great Gate in front of the Taj, there were already too many people filling every space, bench, stairway and vantage point - making it impossible to get a good central view of the building.  This was very disappointing for someone such as myself that likes to fill their blog with perfectly composed photos!  But I was even more sorrowful that I was not going to get the famous 'Princess Di' pose in order.

Thousands and thousands of Muslims going to prayer

After battling the crowds and managing to take a couple of skewed pictures, we made it up on to the terrace of the Taj itself, taking off our shoes and joining a long line of Indian tourists hoping to catch a glimpse of the tomb inside the mausoleum.  When I say a long line, I mean that it went around all the rather lengthy four walls of the building.  And the sun was starting to scorch.  After standing in line for fifteen minutes or so, an American guy came up to us and said that we didn't need to queue and that we could just walk straight in - as we were tourists.  What I think he meant by that, was that we were 'white'.  I disagreed that because we were 'white', that we should just walk straight in, as today, everyone was made equal on account of the free entry.  Normally us 'tourists' would pay a fee of around 750 rupees (£9) to get in, against a domestic Indian's fee of just 20 rupees.  If we had paid 750 rupees each, we would not have hesitated to jump the queue!  So we ignored the man and stayed in line.  So good and equitable of us. However, after about another 20 minutes of standing without any shade whatsoever and despite the very interesting view, Mr Jules went off to investigate how we could speed things up.  Two minutes later he was back, exclaiming that the American guy was right and all we needed to do was walk straight through the front door, along with all the other foreign tourists.  I am ashamed to say that I relented.  (Later I did keep wondering though, how it worked with Indians who are also tourists - those who have emigrated or originate from abroad - do they experience the same prejudice?  And do they try to get away with buying a 20 rupees ticket or do they pay full whack in order to prove that they are entitled to preferential treatment?)

Inside was dark and crammed full of people trying to peer through the intricate marble fretwork at the pencil-box styled tombs. A man tried to con us out of a few rupees by shining his torch on the gemstone inlay (highlighting the translucence of the precious and semi-precious stonework) and by calling out loudly to create an echo - but we just walked off.  After quickly viewing the side by side tombs and the impressive interior design, we went back outside.  I was kind of glad we had not queued for a further hour bearing in mind the few minutes we had just spent indoors!

Some of the semi-precious stone inlay that adorns most of the Taj building

We spent the next hour or so walking around the grounds and getting close up to the exterior decorations - every surface of the Taj Mahal contains intricate carvings, 28 types of semi-precious and precious stone inlays and Islamic calligraphy expressing passages from the Qu'ran.  There is symmetry and architectural perfection everywhere you look.  The sandstone mosques on the two sides are almost as impeccable as the main building itself and beyond is the river.  The translucent marble used to build the Taj was brought from Makrana in Rajasthan and apparently 1,000 elephants were used to transport the materials and a further 1,000 workers used to contruct the buildings over around 22 years.  Not a bad accomplishment I would say!

After our close inspection of the Taj exterior, we meandered out and caught an electric taxi back up the lane to the car park (10 rupees against the 100 rupees we were conned out of for a rickshaw bicycle that we could barely fit our two butts in on the way down!).  I was totally blown away by what I had seen in Agra and Mr Jules thought it wasn't bad either. 

We went on to Agra Fort which I will also write about on another day - an almost equally impressive tourist site.  Here are the pictures of the Taj:

Another side of the Taj - see the long queue of people waiting to see inside?  Now times that by four!



All four sides have identical arches - precious stone inlays and
Qu'ran scriptures decorate each of them

White translucent marble perfection

More inlaid marble

Writings from the Qu'ran decorate every arch

The sandstone Mosque to the left of the main building (also mirrored on the right)

View of the main gateway into the Taj - from the Taj