Agra for the Weekend

We departed at 8:00pm on an air-conditioned overnight (10 hour) bus from Dehra Dun to Agra. Many of us were not feeling well, but decided to be as positive as possible and even made a list of Amazing Race-esque tasks we could complete for points and total them at the end to determine a winner. Ashley scored two points right off the bat when she threw up in the public toilet in the bus station "because it smelled that bad." Before we boarded we visited the Kumar Shop, which sells a lot of American products so we picked up crackers, dried fruit, cookies and Skippy Peanut Butter. I actually screamed (don't worry, not too loud) when I saw the chunky natural peanut butter. The bus ride was interesting…It was freezing because it was air conditioned and we sat at the front of the bus, placing us front and center in the action including a vomiting baby, almost uninterrupted honking and several extended stops (one for over a half an hour because of a "broken bridge"). Not to worry, our ride home made the bus seem like luxury travel. But there were may other goings in the 14 hours separating our two 10 hour journeys. We arrived in Agra at 7:00am to see the Taj Mahal. Admission was 750 Rupees for foreigners and 50 Rupees for domestic travelers. Nevertheless, it was worth the money. It is truly indescribably amazing. We did a lot of fun poses in front of the Taj. It's kind of weird and we haven't been able to figure out exactly why this happens, but wherever we go the local people love to take their photo with us. They LOVE it. Val is in particularly high demand for her blonde hair. We thought at first it was because there are not a lot of Caucasian people living in India but surely there are a lot visiting Agra to see the Taj. I think the strangest part about it is you get the feeling the photo you took with some man and/or his family will end up being framed in some house in India. Does that make us famous?

After we were sufficiently tired from the sun and heat at the Taj we decided to "explore the city." Cities in India are a bit different from most other cities because it is not always clear to us what area is the "city centre" or "good area". Accordingly, without a map or our guide book we were clueless. Luckily the owner of a hotel took pity on us and gave us a map and pointed us in the direction of Costa Coffee (India's Starbucks equivalent). He told us not to pay more than 20 Rupees for an auto rickshaw to get there. Pretty much anywhere you walk when you are white in India you will get constant honks, yells, etc. of offers for "auto rickshaw"? The drivers are not easily deterred. So when you finally do need a ride several drivers crowd around you trying to figure out where you are going and convince you they should be the ones to take you there. Fortunately this surplus of drivers allows you to barter for the best price. This time around we were all sweaty, tired and not in too much of a bargaining mood. So I threw up my hands in the middle of the crowd of drivers (once they acknowledged they knew where Costa Coffee was) and yelled, "40 Rupees for 2 autorikshaws!" And it worked. Annsley said she wanted me to start over and reenact it to be videotaped.

After a few refreshing iced drinks (made with purified water), we were ready to keep exploring. We went to a few government approved stores to look for gifts and then went to Agra Fort. We called Jade who was back at the Mehta's in DehraDun and had her look up a place for us to go to lunch in the Lonely Planet Guide. The South Indian restaurant served pizza and veggie sandwiches--both of which Jen and I split. Sorry I'm a bit slow on the uptake of loving Indian food for three meals/day.

Lunch was great and our next stop was the outdoor shopping bazaar. We walked outside of the restaurant to be met with a downpour of rain. Yeah for monsoon coming early! The outdoor bazaar was out. We went next door to a movie theater and realized there were no English subtitles and then before we knew it were starting to be encircled by people hanging out at the theater. It was probably one of the first times I really felt unsafe in India. In the middle of this crowd an auto rickshaw driver, who was very interested in getting me to shake his hand, approached me displaying handwritten notes and drawings from former customers trying to get us to take a ride with him. After awhile we decided he wasn't that creepy and when we told him we were looking to hire a taxi to go to DehraDun (no one seemed to know where we picked up the bus and we didn't want to wait for the bus and thought a taxi would be much nicer). Turns out, of course, he knew of just the place! We were taken to a nice store that provided private taxis and buses and negotiated a price for a Jeep for the 7 of us for $25/person (three times more than the bus). We discussed it and decided to go back to Costa Coffee, hang out, maybe get some dinner and then leave Agra so we would get back to DehraDun around 6am instead of 3am.

When we got to Costa Coffee we met a guy named Ned from Minnesota who recently graduated from Yale and has been traveling around Nepal and India for the past few weeks. It was great to exchange stories and also to hear that he thought India was "one of the hardest countries I've ever traveled in." I think all of us breathed a big sigh of relief on hearing this since so many of us felt the same way.

Our spirits a bit lifted we came up with the genius plan of going to Pizza Hut next door and having pizza and beer. Leigh and Val (and later me) did a little shopping and Leigh got a custom-made Sari! I got a few hand-embroidered tops. Beer was $1.50 and a medium pizza $5. Yep, that's right: Pizza for lunch and dinner, in India. In my defense, I got the spicy pizza at Pizza Hut.

We got in the taxi at 9:00pm, completely exhausted as most of us had not slept for the better part of the last 36 hours....and discovered our fare did not include AC. It must have been sleep deprivation that made us all feel it wasn't worth paying an extra $7/person for the air conditioning. Instead we "held our ground" and spent the entire ride with the windows down, wind blowing in our face.

This would not have been so bad if it were a pleasant evening breeze. Unfortunately in India where trash fills entire rivers, lies in bins by the side of the road and lies in piles by the side of the road almost EVERYWHERE, a pleasant breeze was far from what we experienced. The smell can perhaps be understood best by those who have traveled on highway 5 in California and passed by Harris Ranch. Let me put it this way…the Harris Cattle Ranch smells like fresh cut flowers in comparison.

Our driver, Hrinder (yep, another “rinder) spoke ZERO English. This was particularly helpful when we realized he was going through Delhi to reach DehraDun, the exact “dangerous” route we were explicitly instructed to avoid. This wasn’t so bad though until we realized Hrinder had NO clue where he was going. We were literally driving though a ghost town and then what I can only describe as what looked like a skateboarding park with walls on either side of us. We tried calling the owner of the taxi company but he didn’t answer. We got directions (or handy Hrinder who always drove off about 2 seconds before people were finished explaining where to go) from about 6 different people until he finally got on the right road.

The drive continued and without any desire or calm conducive sleeping environment, we came up with ways to deal with the wind whipping our face and the putrid smell. Annsley’s invention was to take her T-shirt and wrap it around her head to get her hair out of her face and to cover her nose. I took this to the next level with my long sleeve Henley by buttoning the front over my nose and using the sleeves to cover my mouth. I don’t think I have ever been so happy to essentially be wearing a burka.

Ten hours later (not bad time considering the detours), we arrived at the Mehta’s. I slept about 2 hrs total during the last 48 hours so I ate some breakfast, showered and did some laundry and then passed out for 7 hours. But it was all worth it to see the Taj. Now we are talking about going to Amritsar to see the Golden Temple next weekend which will include 12 hour journeys each way. Insane? Check.