This was written at the end of November, but I have just got round to posting it. Enjoy!
So, I’m sitting in the back of a car on the way to see the Taj Mahal. It’s almost 8 am and we have been on the road since six – and what a road! We are stopped in traffic at the moment, probably because of an accident as a result of the fog. The fog here is grim. When I first arrived in New Delhi a couple of days ago, the night air was thick with the smell of fireworks. At least I thought that it was fireworks, but it smells like that the whole time. There is a permanent haze, which some people put down to winter, and other ascribe to pollution. It’s probably a bit of both, but it must be hell for asthmatics.
I came to Delhi for work, and since Agra is only a 4 hour drive, I thought I’d stay over and visit the Taj. After a couple of days in the sanitized comfort of an international hotel, the journey to Agra is a bit of a shock. This is my first trip to India, and it’s a lot to take in. I’ve mentioned the traffic, but not the tooting. People toot their horns here all the time, so that when you are on the road or in the city, all you can hear is a cacophony of car horns. It seems to be the universal way of signaling your intentions on the road – everything from overtaking and undertaking to speeding up and changing lane. Most lorries and trucks have a painted sign on the back instructing the vehicle behind to “BLOW HORN”, but it didn't seem to me that they needed any encouragement! As well as cars and lorries, there were bullock carts, camel carts and the odd elephant on the road. It was like being in an episode of Wacky Races - a very long episode.
So, I’m sitting in the back of a car on the way to see the Taj Mahal. It’s almost 8 am and we have been on the road since six – and what a road! We are stopped in traffic at the moment, probably because of an accident as a result of the fog. The fog here is grim. When I first arrived in New Delhi a couple of days ago, the night air was thick with the smell of fireworks. At least I thought that it was fireworks, but it smells like that the whole time. There is a permanent haze, which some people put down to winter, and other ascribe to pollution. It’s probably a bit of both, but it must be hell for asthmatics.
I came to Delhi for work, and since Agra is only a 4 hour drive, I thought I’d stay over and visit the Taj. After a couple of days in the sanitized comfort of an international hotel, the journey to Agra is a bit of a shock. This is my first trip to India, and it’s a lot to take in. I’ve mentioned the traffic, but not the tooting. People toot their horns here all the time, so that when you are on the road or in the city, all you can hear is a cacophony of car horns. It seems to be the universal way of signaling your intentions on the road – everything from overtaking and undertaking to speeding up and changing lane. Most lorries and trucks have a painted sign on the back instructing the vehicle behind to “BLOW HORN”, but it didn't seem to me that they needed any encouragement! As well as cars and lorries, there were bullock carts, camel carts and the odd elephant on the road. It was like being in an episode of Wacky Races - a very long episode.
To say that the drive was a shock to the system is an understatement. Not so much the journey itself - which was like sitting in a slow moving traffic jam for hours - but the abject poverty and squalor of the life of the roadside inhabitants, many of whom did not live in anything resembling a house, and who lived their life in the open - with all that that entails. I don't know what I was expecting; I think I had been lulled into a false sense of prosperity because of the economic miracle that everyone talks about, but there was nothing miraculous about the lives of these people.
There were one or two moments of levity - like when we stopped at a roadside restaurant and I asked whether the bread used for the toasted sandwich I had ordered was white or brown. The charming waiter told me that it was indeed brown; it started out white, and when it was toasted it became brown! So I ordered a vegetable samosa instead, and it was quite simply one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten. India is a great place for food - especially if you are vegetarian.
When you reach Agra, the Taj Mahal is not visible from the road; you walk for a few hundred yards from where cars have to stop, and you come upon it gradually. There were 2 queues for tickets, one for foreigners and one for Indians. I wondered why, until I realised that there was a differential system of pricing in operation - 20 rupees for locals, and 750 for foreigners! I guess it makes perfect sense that those who can afford to pay more, pay more and to be fair, the foreigners did get a bottle of water and a pair of paper shoe covers thrown in......
What can you say about the Taj that hasn't been said a hundred times before? Perhaps that the dozens of kids milling around trying to sell Taj Mahal keyrings are really annoying? Or that the woman at the gate was really mean to me? OK, I'll just go with what's been said before then: it really is breathtaking. It looks exactly like the pictures, only more so somehow. The intricacy of the marble work is astounding, and it makes you want to be the woman who could inspire such a creation.
There were one or two moments of levity - like when we stopped at a roadside restaurant and I asked whether the bread used for the toasted sandwich I had ordered was white or brown. The charming waiter told me that it was indeed brown; it started out white, and when it was toasted it became brown! So I ordered a vegetable samosa instead, and it was quite simply one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten. India is a great place for food - especially if you are vegetarian.
When you reach Agra, the Taj Mahal is not visible from the road; you walk for a few hundred yards from where cars have to stop, and you come upon it gradually. There were 2 queues for tickets, one for foreigners and one for Indians. I wondered why, until I realised that there was a differential system of pricing in operation - 20 rupees for locals, and 750 for foreigners! I guess it makes perfect sense that those who can afford to pay more, pay more and to be fair, the foreigners did get a bottle of water and a pair of paper shoe covers thrown in......
What can you say about the Taj that hasn't been said a hundred times before? Perhaps that the dozens of kids milling around trying to sell Taj Mahal keyrings are really annoying? Or that the woman at the gate was really mean to me? OK, I'll just go with what's been said before then: it really is breathtaking. It looks exactly like the pictures, only more so somehow. The intricacy of the marble work is astounding, and it makes you want to be the woman who could inspire such a creation.
The next post will be a wee update from France, where we will be celebrating New Year, so keep watching.
All the best till then.
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