Taj pics, Agra and Fatphur Sikri

Taj in the early morning

This couple stayed in their PJ's for their early Taj visit

The first time we have seen a lawn mower that does not fart

Taj later

Prison room with a view - where Shah Jahan, who built the Taj, 

was locked by his son for er.. a really long time

Not everywhere in Agra is perfect

Deluxe bus to Fatephur Sikri

Smooth Roads all the way

Agra

(John) For our second day in Agra we chose to go out of town. We thought long and hard about the trip as we had been warned that the bus journey was potentially nauseating. We were aiming for Fatphur Sikri where there is an ancient capital of the Mughal Empire. We were expecting the worst from the journey and were even tempted by a taxi driver who offered to take us and a family of three in his ambassador taxi for 700 IR return. The bus was going to cost 216 return. So ½ of 700 is 350, a difference of 135 IR, or about 3 bucks. I decided (not Lesley) that it was too much and that the bus could well be more comfortable than stuffing 7 people in a taxi. Happily I was right. We had great seats on the bus. It was roomy and airy. The trip took one hour as advertized and travelled on smooth asphalt all the way there.

We were peckish when we arrived – well, Sam was – and we wanted to eat, but the bus station restaurant was too expensive so we walked around the bazaar looking for other options. A very friendly young man struck up a nice conversation that led to a question about lunch, an idea about a cheap restaurant he knew near the entrance to the fort, then a walk through a decidedly dodgy, smelly neighbourhood that finally led to a nice looking hotel that was more expensive than the place at the bus depot. It looked like a nice place but there were no other customers and the hard sell was on the moment we stepped in. I was annoyed enough at having been hoodwinked into the unnecessary hike that refusal was easy. We were however relatively close to the fort, but nowhere near all the restaurants. We bitterly ate our supply of biscuits and oranges, decided it would hold us for a couple of hours and went in to see what the Mughal Empire had done to the place.

Sam wearing a breadbasket in Mosque

It was all pretty nice. The red sandstone buildings were tastefully done, architecturally splendid with beautiful ornate carvings. There were good size baths and toilet facilities, places to keep your elephants and a big courtyard to watch them trample over the slaves when entertainment was needed. There were separate Palaces for each of the ruler’s wives, and what looked like stables, but was actually housing for the servants. The entry price to the Fort was 500 IR, the same price as our hotel room. The kids were free. It was worth it just to get away from the constant attention from touts just outside the gates. They were mostly kids who seemed to be engaged for the most part in collecting the used tickets from foreign visitors. If you refused to hand them over they were actually offering to buy them for 10 rupees or swap them for some cheap souvenir. When we even refused this they redoubled their efforts and pestered us relentlessly until I said 'cello' to them. It means go and usually isn't quite so effective. I can only assume that they simply had not understood a word we said when we politely explained that we would like to keep our tickets as souvenirs. We figured that they were selling their tickets back to other touts who were selling them either to unofficial guides who could use them for free entry or to other unsuspecting tourists who were buying them thinking they were getting actual tickets. They were worthless as the stub was removed. Ticket scams seem pretty common. We noticed that the ticket taker at the Taj Mahal took our tickets but did not remove the stub. He simply gave us a different ticket with the stub already removed. It was done right under the nose of the armed security guard. Hmmm! This happened again at the Red Fort. Anyway, we eventually found a place to eat and had another excellent bus back to the bus station in Agra on which Mhari and Lesley chatted up a tall good looking Canadian, leaving Sam and I in peace. On arrival we easily negotiated a rickshaw ride back to the hotel and found a great little restaurant serving something called 'laffa' that was a lot like falafel with pita bread and salad.