GriffJon's World Tour

« Delhi day 3: Qutb Minar and the Bahai Temple | Main | Jaipur, the Pink City »

September 23, 2007

Agra, the Taj Mahal, and a rant on transport

We arrived into Agra around midnight, due to our late-leaving train. We'd called the hotel from A's cell to warn them we'd be very late, and set out to find a rickshaw. We looked for the "prepaid" booth (the only way to get a good deal on a rickshaw), but it was already closed, so we walked out of the station to seek a better bargaining position. We had a rickshaw tout say "50 rupees (about 1.10), anywhere in Agra" and took him up on it. He got in the tiny front seat with the driver and we were off... to a different hotel. "Just along the way" (actually, many km out of the way). After many many arguments, where even my extensive attempts to maintain firm politeness were gone, and the yelling was starting, we finally got close to our actual hotel (30 minutes after we should have) (in a no-driving zone meant to curb the pollution coloring the Taj), and walked the rest of the way. The damned tout followed us to the gate of the hotel where he reappeared babbling about something. Thankfully, the hotel opened up and closed the gate behind us. This was our most obvious and worst experience with the commission system, where, if a driver brings you to a hotel or shop where you buy something, they get a piece of the profit, up to 50% -- which means you can't bargain as low as you would because the shopkeeper is giving half of what he's still making off you to the driver.

We had another rickshaw driver try that on us the next day and immediately got out, after which he repented and took us straight to our destination.

Transport Rant

We first went to the Agra train station to try and book our next ticket. After one and a half hours, we finally did that. The India railway system is this vast, bureaucratic mess, where to book a ticket you have to first stand in line at the Enquiries counter to find out what trains are leaving at what times, their numbers, class availability, and so on. Sure, there's a book, "Rails at a glance," which I tried to find a copy to buy to have as a prop to illustrate the worst practices in information design, evar. It's nothing but a series of tables deferring you to other tables, none of which ends up at an easy to read, this train stops at these stations at this time. Anyway. Even if you already knew your train info, you'd still have to get through the Enquiry desk to get the form you fill out to pass on to the clerk (who won't write on it at all, even to change a minor detail). These forms are guarded harshly behind the Enquiry desk glass, but occasionally someone will make a grab for the pile and distribute it to the people just needing the forms. It's an amusing cat-and-mouse game, in the same way that watching your laundry dry is amusing when you're in Peace Corps.

So we finally book our ticket and walk, dodging rickshaw touts, to the bus station to bus out to Fatepuhr Sikri, some ruins outside of town. The buses are all running late (it turns out that there's a big pile-up on the road), and as it's already 2 and the buses stop at 6, and it takes 1.5 hours to get there, my pessimistic optimism (hope for the best, plan as if you're mitigating the worst) opts us to ditch our plans. We're close to an alternate train station, so we head there to see if we can get ahead on the train ticket situation so we don't lose every morning to the same hassle. We're able to book two more tickets in 30 minutes there (less crowded, no one going on break). We need an ATM to book a third ticket, and go off on a wild goose chase into the Agra Fort market (We never made it to the Agra Fort, either; it looked from the outside just like the Lal Qila of Delhi).

To Market!

This market transformed us. After too many days in Delhi, the delayed train ride, the horrible rickshaw/commission scam when we were weary and ready for our hotel, the lost morning to the train station and afternoon at the bus station, all had us pretty India'd out. This market, though, was wonderful. No one bugging us, following us, tugging at us, begging from us, touting, leering... just a street market, bustling about its daily business in that uniquely, machine-like bazaar peacefulness. We blissfully wandered through the various districts of the market -- in these more organic city layouts catering to people with limited transit options, the economies of agglomeration are so visible -- here's the machine-working section, the sari section, the spices/nuts section....

We finally found the ATM and wandered back through, stopping to eat a small lunch at a street vendor's spot where lots of Indians were gathered. One of them translated a but for us and we got some yummy dish with a fried dough ball of probably garbanzo flour and spices in the middle, crushed, with dal and aloo on top, sprinkled with a spice mix and a sauce, served in a dried, pressed leaf bowl -- one of the best meals we had in India.

After the market, we hiked along a dilapidated nature walk trail that was being reconstructed. We talked to the contractor a bit and watched the sun set over the Taj Mahal view.

The Taj

After skirting around it in Agra for so long, we dedicated one entire day to the Taj Mahal, the most photographed building in the world. It's mightily impressive, though the very innermost chamber with the tomb itself is not all that impressive. In addition to the gleaming white marble Taj Mahal, there are also two symmetrical buildings, one an active mosque, the other used historically as apartments. It has beautiful gardens and multiple walls around it.

I figure you've all seen a few bazillion photos of the Taj Mahal itself, so I'm focusing mainly on the surroundings and the details in the flickr photo set.

After the Taj Mahal, we wandered around Taj Ganj, the market and residential neighborhood to the south. After we made it through the touristy parts of it, it was very nice and just wandering through a neighborhood. The kids were an endless stream of "Hallo!"s as we got lost and then wandered our way back out. We headed up to a rooftop restaurant for snacks, and discovered the secret of beer in restaurants -- it's never on the menu, as alcohol licenses are hard to get, but it's almost always available if you ask for it.

Posted by griffjon at September 23, 2007 05:26 PM

Comments

Post a comment