The Road to the Taj Mahal

                Writer’s block is dangerous. It’s dangerous because it not only keeps a writer from accomplishing his goal and passion but also, in the long run, allows the writer to forget precious details about what it is he has to write about. The week after my last post I went through that, and had a hard time picking my mind, trying to scoop up every detail about the rest of my trip throughout Rajasthan and eventually, much to my shame, I gave up trying and decided that it simply wasn’t the right time to write and that “tomorrow” would bring a new sunrise and with it new inspiration. Tomorrow came and the day after, so did the respective sunrises but unfortunately, no inspiration. Tomorrow turned into the last weeks of my stay in India, and as the last week approached I couldn’t be bothered to write... you were leaving, how could I even consider wasting precious time with you on something as trivial as this? And yet, you thought otherwise. You saw this blog as something important to me, to who I am, and you urged me on, gave me words of encouragement and believed that if I tried hard enough, I could find what I needed to kick start that inspiration into action. It’s been a week since we said good-bye at the airport and it only took the walk back to the car to realize that the inspiration I had needed had been with me the whole time... Alli, this post goes to you. I love you.

                There’s nothing quite like a road trip, especially if you’re with friends. December 5^th brought with it an incredible start to our particular road trip. Only in a country like India will you plan to wake at 06h00, on a Sunday morning, to beat traffic and thus assure that crossing a 200Km distance will only take five hours! For this part of the trip we rented a vehicle and, contrary to the Indian custom, our driver met us that morning at 7am sharp as agreed. He introduced himself as Ras – short for Rasander – and I almost immediately took a liking to him, mostly because he didn’t have the look of someone who was trying to work out exactly how much money he could swindle out of us, unlike what I’d grown accustomed to by Taxi and Tuk-Tuk drivers all around, and also from anyone who had something to sell. Now if you’re planning on visiting India anytime soon and wish to travel around the Golden Triangle (Delhi, Agra and Jaipur) I strongly recommend renting a car and, if possible, go for Kalka Travels and ask for Rasander. Ras is one of the kindest and most honest people I’ve ever met and will forever remain as someone who contributed to making my trip to India that much better.



Rasander

All set and ready we took off toward the province of Uttar Pradesh and started what was one of the most fun and incredible journeys I have ever had. Hardly an hour into our journey Ras surprised us by suddenly pulling up alongside the road, right in front of an 80ft statue of the God Krishna. Now unlike any other sight we visited throughout our trip, this statue is actually quite young, only two or three years have gone by since it was built. Aside from its size and the fact that it’s in the middle of no-where, what made this statue such an incredible sight was the fact that – according to Ras – it was fully paid for by local lower class farmers and farm folk. As you walk up to the statue you’ll find a small sign written in chalk, asking you to “Please Remove Your Shoes” before stepping onto the path that leads up its base. As there is literally nothing or no one else around, one could easily walk up to the statue in footwear, and to hell with taking shoes off at 08h00 on a cold morning... yet something compels you to. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that some higher power was at play, but perhaps a deep sense of respect for the people who no doubt went thought painstaking efforts and sacrifices to make this statue possible. It takes less than five minutes to see and yet, I found myself remembering it throughout our trip more often than I’d have expected to.

A few hours ahead Ras surprised us once again when he stopped an hour outside of Agra in a small town called Sikandra, which is home to Akbar’s Tomb, a sight none of us knew was even on the way, despite having our friendly Lonely Planet guide with us. Akbar was a Mughal Emperor who lived during the late 16^th century and was responsible for a number of constructions that not only led to Agra becoming the capital of the Mughal Empire for over two centuries, but also inspired countless other constructions that followed, including the Taj Mahal. Among these Fathepur Sikri stands out as his greatest construction but we’ll get back to this in a bit. Much like the tombs Allison and I had already visited in Delhi, Akbar’s Tomb was mainly built out of red sandstone and true to the style of the Era is perfectly symmetrical. Now because of its proximity to Agra, wherein lie the famous Taj Mahal and Red Fort, Akbar’s Tomb might possibly go unnoticed by most and ignored by others, however if you’re planning on visiting India and you have the time I strongly recommend stopping at Sikandra and paying this sight a visit, not only for whose tomb it holds but also for its amazing architecture – which eventually inspired other great constructions like the Taj itself – and the gardens that surround it.

According to the information plaques at the entrance, these gardens are called a “Charbagh” and are characterized by being enclosed and divided into four quarters, each of these representing one of Life’s stages. This particular garden is home to a large number of Macaques and Dear, which roam freely and add to the beauty. All in all, a nice way to enjoy a short break after a four and a half hour drive and, a small taste of what was still to come!

Once in Agra it didn’t take long for us to find our hotel, the Saniya Palace, and by now we were all pretty excited, as it is famed for its terrace restaurant and view of the Taj Mahal. Now, Amritsar aside, I have no complaints whatsoever regarding the quality of the Hotels at which I made reservations, only about their practises... in particular the Saniya Palace. Whenever you look up a hotel online, on websites such as TripAdvisor.com or HotelBookings.com, almost every single hotel will have good and bad reviews, in different measures yes but they will be there. Knowing this and accepting it makes for choosing a hotel a whole lot easier, because you seek out those that have the least amount of bad reviews and the higher praises on the positive ones. When preparing for my trip to India, the Hotel Saniya Palace was one such Hotel, not to mention the only budget Hotel I’d come across that included breakfast in the tariff. However, the night we got back from Amritsar, Thomas and I decided to confirm all the details about the various places we would be staying at throughout our journey and we noticed that two new reviews had been put up for the Saniya Palace, both less than a couple of weeks old. I would love to say that the reviews were smashing and encouraging, but unfortunately they weren’t. The most recent reviewer complained that he’d arrived at the Hotel and was told that his room had been given to someone else and, given its proximity to the Taj Mahal, the hotel was now fully booked. As I explained in my last post, when travelling to and around India, one has to be ready to accept that plans aren’t going to go smoothly and may have to be changed at the last minute, something that happens more often than not. Let us call this the Indian Factor.  On one hand I felt that I didn’t have to worry, I’d given the hotel a call only a couple of days before and they’d confirmed both the rooms I’d reserved would be available, but on the other hand I couldn’t deny that the Indian Factor seemed to loom quite darkly over this hotel, so we began looking for alternative places to stay, just in case.

An interesting aspect of the Indian Factor is that the lower your budget the higher the odds are of it taking effect on any plans you may have made. Curiously enough it was precisely the budget issue that allowed Thomas and I to be prepared for a rather unpleasant instance in which the Indian Factor took place quite resoundingly. In my last post I mentioned how Thomas and his girlfriend are travelling around the world and, as you can imagine this means they’re on quite a tight budget. Respecting this, I sought out the best budget hotels I could find based on user reviews on-line and Thomas in turn understood and respected my wishes to have a minimum degree of comfort during my vacation with my girlfriend.  Unfortunately, due to our recent experience in Amritsar – where the hotel tariff didn’t meet the hotel standards – Thomas felt that we should confirm the details of all the hotels I’d booked in advance, which turned out to be quite useful indeed. By now most of you have guessed what obviously happened to us. We arrived at said “palace” and were greeted by its “ruler” – who seemed shocked to see that we’d made it to Agra, let alone his hotel – who proceeded to inform us that the two rooms I had reserved four weeks prior and confirmed only two days earlier, weren’t available because the guests in one room were sick and bed bound and no explanation was brought forward as to why the other room wasn’t available either. Thank goodness for TripAdvisor.com... Had I not read the reviews that described exactly what had happened to us I might have actually believed him, but the truth is this is India and all this man is interested in is making money and not much about keeping a good reputation for his hotel. Luckily I was prepared for this so, not allowing it to bother us, we simply walked out of the Hotel with the addresses for the other hotels already in hand. As we reconvened with Ras and discussed which hotels would be in our best interest, he suggested that we forego those on my list and opt for one closer to the Taj instead, explaining that the best time to visit it is as soon as the gates open, and so we would want to be as close as possible to avoid the queues. Curiously enough we had a bunch of locals hovering around us, doing their best to convince us to stay at their hotels, promising comfort and quality and guaranteeing low prices, all around. We decided to visit the hotel closest to us, not only because it was considerably inexpensive – only Rs.400 (less than $10) a night – but also because they were the only ones to claim having hot water.

Road outside the Taj Mahal

After a brief inspection of the rooms it took us no time at all to decide that this particular hotel was even shabbier than the one in Amritsar, however by now neither of us could be bothered with searching for something better and we all agreed that this was as good as it was going to get. The rooms weren’t clean but they weren’t filthy, the hot water ended up being a fib but it was at least lukewarm, and finally to make up for all that was unpleasant the rooms did have cable TV with a couple of western movie channels. The rest of the afternoon was spent in our respective rooms, not only because we were quite tired from the trip but also because Laura and I were coming down with a cold and decided it would be best to recover as much as we could for the next day – visiting the Taj Mahal.

Now before moving on I feel I should explain a bit about the area that surrounds the west wall of Taj Mahal. Whenever you see the Taj on television you’re almost always presented with a view of magnificence and immaculateness but, quite understandably, you’re hardly ever presented with the filth and poverty that surrounds the Taj itself. By this stage, and thanks to my experience in Amritsar, I was no longer affected by culture shock, so I wasn’t at all appalled or put off by the dirty streets, filthy cows and loud hagglers, however I was somewhat surprised by the macaques that roam the rooftops of Agra. Personally, I rather enjoyed watching these little critters running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop but the truth is they are quite bothersome to the locals on a daily basis and also the tourists who might want to enjoy a nice meal or drink on any give roof terrace... like the four us on our first day. At the end of our long day we decided to enjoy the wine we’d brought with us, along with the sunset and the view of the Taj. However, no sooner had we set our table, we were suddenly charged by a fairly sized macaque who seemed to be going for the wine bottle we’d just put on top of the table. Luckily this Pinot Noir aficionado primate missed his target but, from there on out, whenever we were on a rooftop we’d be on a constant vigil for any others like him. The rest of our first night in Agra was spent enjoying an amazing dinner at the Saniya Palace – no hard feelings were harboured as you can see – with an even more spectacular view of the Taj by night, made better when all the lights around the area went out, leaving the Taj perfectly outlined by the glow of the city behind it.

Rooftop view of the Taj

Taj Mahal by night

The next day our alarms went off at 05h00 and, by 05h30 we were out in the cold making our way through the empty streets to the Taj’s west entrance. After waiting for a considerable period of time – tickets are supposed to start being sold from 06h00 and we only got ours at 06h45, despite being the first in line – we finally made our way to the entrance and after a brief security inspection we were allowed through. Now as you walk into the Taj Mahal’s perimeter, you don’t immediately see it as access to the charbagh is made only through a narrow passage way at the main gateway, the Darwaza. As you walk towards this entrance you begin to see the Taj through its massive archway and you’re gradually presented with its stunning magnificence that leaves no doubt as to why this is – and forever should remain – a World Wonder. One of the hardest trials of writing this particular post was finding the words to describe the Taj, words that I’m afraid still fail to do it justice, so please take into consideration that no picture, no travel guide or blog and no person – no matter how educated or knowledgeable – can ever prepare you for the overwhelming feeling you get once you’re there.
Ras had been right, if there is any time of day that is best suited to visit the Taj it’s at Sunrise, as you’re presented with a number of different shades of white as the sunlight reflects of this mausoleum’s surface, while it rises higher in the air; there is also hardly a sound, not only due to the early hours and the isolation from the city itself, but also because all those around you are just as awe struck, each doing their best to drink in as much of it as they can, as if it might all suddenly vanish and prove to have been nothing but a dream. To be honest during my entire time at the Taj I kept waiting for it to dawn on me that I was actually there, I couldn’t quite come to terms with it. Allison, who was visiting the Taj for a second time, explained to me that she felt much the same.

History speaks of the Taj Mahal as a monument that was built out of Love, a show of love that almost brought the nation to ruin. Three and a half centuries later that love carries on, transformed and apparent in the face of every single local or native that walks past you. Whereas the tourists will gaze upon this mausoleum with a look of complete and utter astonishment, the Indians will gaze upon on it with infinite pride. If ever there were a handful of symbols that best reflected the culture and perseverance of a nation, the Taj Mahal is certainly a contender for the title of Champion.

Taj Mahal at 07h00

On this particular day we were doubly fortunate, as a blanket of mist kept rolling in the from Yamuna river, shrouding the Taj with an air of mysticism – pardon the pun – making this sight all the more spectacular. Our first half hour there was easily spent regarding it from a distance, slowly easing our way toward the tomb itself, like one would while walking up to an animal grazing not wanting to scare it off or, in this particular case, wanting to enjoy it for as much and as long as possible. Another fantastic aspect of the charbagh are the reflection pools that run along its length and divide it into its distinctive quarters, and at the center you’ll find a raised square platform with a fountain with a bench on each side, facing the direction of the pools, from which some of the most common pictures of the Taj Mahal are often taken.

Reflection Pool

Its reflection on these pools is perfect, and can only be fully appreciated when the fountains that are laid along their length aren’t working and the water is completely still. Little by little though, more people walk in and the beautiful silence is gradually consumed by clicks and flashes of powerful cameras and you move on forwards and witness something new. The tomb that already seemed gigantic from afar now appears colossal as you reach its base! I found myself thinking ‘no wonder it took over twenty years to build...’

Yamuna Fog

As we walked around the mausoleum, the mist, which by now had almost entirely faded, was replaced by a dense fog that rolled in from the Yamuna, so dense in fact that it covered all but the dome of the Taj and its surrounding minarets, thus allowing for even more magnificent pictures before we finally headed to the inner chamber. Now, as I mentioned before, Allison had already been to the Taj, on a previous visit with her family almost a year before, only back then they visited the Taj in the early afternoon, a time at which it’s teeming with people and so, if one wishes to visit the inner chamber of the mausoleum one might wait up to two hours at least, as the queue can circle around the tomb twice, and so they did. We on the other hand had to wait only a handful of minutes before walking into the darkened chamber. No pictures are allowed to be taken in here – a rule that most tourists pointedly ignored – which is regrettable as the interior of the Taj is without a shadow of doubt a masterpiece of its own.

Jaali Archway

At this stage I must confess that, had I gone alone or with someone who didn’t have the same cultured eye as my girlfriend, I might not have appreciated the chamber’s true beauty. As we walked in it was almost completely covered in darkness, as the sun wasn’t yet high enough in the sky to bathe the chamber in natural light – a downside to visiting at such early hours I guess – but enough light came through to allow us to appreciate the intricate perforated marble windows – known as Jaali screens – as well as the inlaid precious and semiprecious gemstones that cover the surrounding walls and reflect what little light managed to come through, along with amazing plant motifs and carved pattern works along the archways. At one point a tour guide pulled us aside and placed the tip of a pen-light against an inlaid green gemstone, shaped in the form of a vine, allowing the light to travel through it and momentarily breaking the darkness with a beautiful green glow. Exactly at the center of the inner chamber are the cenotaphs of Mumtaz Mahal and Shan Jahan – respectively the wife in memory of whom the Taj Mahal was built and her husband, the Mughal emperor at the time – surrounded by a 6ft octagonal Jaali screen with an opening at two of the sides that allowed us to view the cenotaphs themselves, which following the chamber and the mausoleum’s decoration are extremely intricately decorated with inlaid gemstones and Islamic calligraphy. It took us less than ten minutes to visit the inner chamber, but we stayed around the Taj and its gardens for another hour, simply enjoying its splendour and basking in the sunlight as we idly walked about.

Alli at what she does best!

But as the saying goes, all good things come to an end and when the area began getting fairly crowded we took up and left, still mesmerized by what and how much we’d seen in what now seemed an incredibly short amount of time.

I wish I could say that the rest of our stay at the city was as pleasant, but unfortunately Laura and I still hadn’t fully recovered so it was mostly spent in our dingy hotel recovering for our trip to the city of Jaipur the next day. We left Agra the next day, agreeing that it wasn’t the most appealing of cities but knowing that our visit to the Taj Mahal will forever remain as one of our most cherished memories of this trip.

Culture Shock!

It's been two weeks since my last post and, as I mentioned before, I've been travelling since – mainly around the Rajasthan province – and since then so much has happened and so much has changed. Before I came to India one of my closest friends, Marco, who grew up with me in Mozambique and who’d already been to India not too long ago, tried to prepare me for what was to come, for something that he hadn’t been prepared for and for something that he could not prepare me at all, although to his credit he did try vehemently. Marco my friend, after these past two weeks I finally understand what it was you were trying to convey. Here follows an account of my first experience with the “Real India”.

December started well enough, a clear blue sky with nice warm weather and the safe arrival of Thomas and his girlfriend Laura, who for the past eleven months have been travelling around Asia in, what is planned to be, a two to three year trip around the world. Thomas and I go back almost ten years now and ever since I’ve known him he’s been preparing for this trip and so, as you can imagine, having him with us on our trip throughout India was doubly fortunate.

The 1^st of December was spent catching up on news, swapping stories and resting up for the big trip we had ahead of us the following day – a six hour train ride to the city of Amritsar. I was incredibly excited, in fact we all were, and I had everything planned to the finest detail – a habit of mine that those who know me well cherish and tease me for to no end. It seemed nothing could go wrong; I had planned for everything… for everything but that Life-long truth, that Plans have a habit of changing, regardless of your say in the matter. In India I discovered that this is more often the case than not.

Looking back on our entire trip, that first journey we took on December 2^nd, from Delhi to Amritsar, was remarkably uneventful – with the exception of Allison getting her leg stuck in the gap between the subway-train and the platform while exiting to Delhi Station. Luckily, despite an ugly bruise, she came out it unharmed. Having read all sorts of articles and having heard all sorts of stories about riding trains in India, I painted a rather dark portrait of what to expect from our six hour long train ride. Imagine our surprise when, not only was our train immaculately clean and amazingly comfortable but also, we were offered the daily newspaper in English and four meals – mid-afternoon snack, tea, dinner and dessert – all evenly spaced throughout the entire trip. Thomas and Laura wouldn’t stop commenting that compared to their regular train rides, they were being thoroughly pampered. If you ever plan on visiting Amritsar and if you plan to travel in comfort, be sure to book the tickets on the Shatadbi Express. A two way ticket cost each of us around Rs.1400, which is roughly €25. We arrived at our destination at 23h00, only twenty minutes late, and here began my introduction to the “real India”.

Now, before carrying on, I must point out that when you’ve spent the first two weeks in a third-world or developing country, sheltered in a suburban neighbourhood of its capital, you’re bound for a shock once you set foot on the platform of a train station in a small city hidden over three hundred miles away. Marco had told me that no amount of years spent in Maputo could have prepared him, nor would they prepare me, for what lay in wait. As we walked towards the station’s exit we passed by, stepped over – and sometimes on – people sleeping on the floor, covered with whatever they had with them, some waiting for the next days’ early train the rest simply because the station provided a roof and the amount of people provided body warmth. The ten minute drive from the station to our hotel wasn’t much better. Despite the city being immersed in darkness, if not for the occasional little fire lit by the side of the road with four to five people surrounding it, we could see well enough that poverty was a way of life in this place and the concept of hygiene was millions of miles from being remote to ours.

We arrive at the Hotel Heritage Inn and I’m instantly reminded of how gullible humanity can bem, as I realize that this place looks nothing at all like the pictures advertised online and for the first time during this whole trip I begin to feel a sense of dread creeping in. To say that this place looked unkempt would be a severe understatement, however this wasn’t what worried me. According to online reviews this is one of the best places to stay in Amritsar – getting your money’s worth and what not – and it was too late in the evening to go looking for another suitable option. Before I could voice my worries though, Thomas, Laura and Allison all commented that for India’s standards this place was actually quite nice! I was shocked but decided to put my worries and fears aside and just wing it for this first night – “It’s an Adventure Charlie Brown!” – and if need be, come morning we could always go look for someplace else. After basically bullying us into paying an advancement for the first night – something that had not been agreed upon or mentioned for that matter when I reserved the rooms four weeks earlier – the hotel concierge showed us to our rooms where after settling in, ignoring the dirty walls, filthy bathrooms, the ant ridden floor, the hairs on the bed – and on my part accepting that no amount of bitching and whining would make the situation any more pleasant – we all proceeded to forget all these unpleasantries by emptying three bottles of wine and focusing on more positive subjects well into the early hours.

The next day began in the early afternoon and, seeing as Laura was feeling a bit ill and Thomas was playing nurse, Allison and I went exploring, allowing for me to be dealt yet another blow of culture shock, as we were suddenly surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of people in the small winding streets of Amritsar. From hagglers to simple Sikh worshipers on their way to Golden Temple, it felt like we were coursing through a sea of people who would stop in their tracks to either stare at us, take pictures of us, some with a look in their eye that said they were contemplating whether they could – never mind should – touch us, all the while being blasted from every side with what I came to recognize as some of the common haggler greetings: “Huh-low”; “Yes please!”; “No buy, only look sir!” and, unique to Amritsar, the bellowing question “BORDER!?” which I’ll get to in a bit.



Streets of Amritsar



It didn’t take long to reach the Golden Temple and by now we were quite excited about going in, especially as this is one of the only two attractions that make Amritsar a city worth visiting. Known in Sikhism as the Harmandir Sahib – literally the ‘Abode of God’ – it is its holiest of shrines, however, it was built as a place for all faiths to worship God and despite the constraining feeling from all the staring we got as tourists, not once did we feel unwelcome during our stay there. The city itself owes its name to the lake that surrounds this temple, known as Amrit or ‘Holy Water’, Amritsar meaning the Pool of Immortality.



Harmandir Sahib



Not having bothered to inform ourselves about the Golden Temple in advance, we almost made the mistake of walking in with our heads uncovered – something prohibited for both women and men – but luckily we were stopped by two English girls on their way out, who pointed out where we could leave our shoes – entry into the Golden Temple also implies being barefoot – and where we could find some, for the lack of a better word, ‘head wraps’. These we found in what I can only call the ‘public head wrap bin’ where, after picking all the hairs we could from our respective head-wraps, we reluctantly wound these around our heads. Now for those who might find this a bit ‘icky’, rest assured that we witnessed a lot worse. One such example would be the feet cleansing pool at each of the temple’s entrances, where we saw one peculiar character bending down and bringing some water to his mouth. To put things into perspective, the Golden Temple is the most sought and most visited of all of India’s monuments – topping even the Taj Mahal – where on a regular week day it will be visited by over a hundred thousand people, and entrance is not allowed unless you dip your feet into these pools... at first I thought this must be some practice or proof of faith common to Sikhism, but considering I saw no one else perform this act, I think it’s safe to say that this was simply some nut.

As you walk into the Golden Temple though, you’re suddenly transported away from all this madness: the living chaos that roams the filthy winding streets, the open sewers on each side of each road, the hagglers cries and honking horns; all of this is suddenly replaced with the spectacularly immaculate white marble floors and walls of the temple, the fresh ‘cleaner’ water that surrounds the Harmandir Sahib, and the crowd that walks in an orderly circle around it, almost in silence. This place has a power over the people and you can feel it, even outside the temple where for close to a mile around it you won’t find meat or alcohol being sold, out of respect.

We visited the Temple on both the days that we were there and during the second day, with Thomas and Laura, we found out that the temple offers free meals to all travellers at all hours and everyone is served equally and in equal manner. Unfortunately we had to forego the opportunity to eat there as they feed the crowds in waves, each wave taking about an hour or so, and we were on a tight schedule due to our afternoon departure back to Delhi. I can tell you though that the food smelled amazingly and seeing all of those people working together to feed an even larger crowd – again and again – is nothing short of awe inspiring.

The other main attraction of Amritsar is actually an hour’s drive away from the city, in a little village called Wagah on the border with Pakistan, the attraction being the ‘Border Closing’ or ‘Lowering of the Flag’ Ceremony – thus explaining the constant offers of ‘Border!’ mentioned earlier. The village of Wagah stands right in the middle of the border line between India and Pakistan, dividing the village into a western and eastern part respectfully and earning the border the nick name “Berlin Wall of Asia”. It is also home to the only road border between India and Pakistan, at which every single day at sundown, for the past sixty years, a ceremony is held on each side of the border that can only be described as stunning, because that is exactly what each side seems to be trying to do – to stun each other. Although made to look like a ‘battle’ between each side the event is clearly choreographed between both sides and is extremely energetic and fast paced. Both security forces on each side march from place to place with the severest look on their faces and the fact that each of these men are no shorter than 6ft2in – on the Indian side we saw one security officer that stood close to 7ft in height – makes them look that much more intimidating.

Unfortunately we’d once again failed to inform ourselves properly about this event and so, by the time we took off for Wagah it was already quite late. Our driver, who was called Happy and turned out to be a miracle worker, managed to get us there in time for the ceremony but, although he tried, he couldn’t get us there in time to find a place inside the actual border. This resulted in Allison and I having to climb up and hang from some rails that allowed the best view possible – which is to the say the less bad one – and we were pleasantly surprised to find the two English girls who’d helped us earlier at the temple, hanging from the same railing. For those who plan to visit Amritsar, and the whole of India for that matter, learn from our mistakes. Try and inform yourselves as much as you can about what you want to visit and, regarding the Border Closing Ceremony, I’d suggest leaving for the border at least 2 hours before the ceremony starts. You might have to hover around for an hour or so, but at least you’ll get good seats.

Veg Thali

The rest of our stay in Amritsar was spent pretty much at meals times in a cosy little restaurant we found hidden away in one of the busier areas close to the temple, enjoying what was without a doubt the best food we had this trip, or walking around looking at the local shops which give you an idea of why the city – and most places in India for that matter – looks so poor. Wherever you go in Amritsar you’ll pass by a number of shops and any stretch of road will have over ten shops lined up, all selling the same product. Thomas took to calling places like these “Same Shit District” because that is all you could find. It makes one wonder how anyone makes a living at all, as a lot of these shops don’t offer basic need products – one such road sold only bathroom appliances. It doesn’t seem like these people can make a living, it stands to reason that most of these shops should have closed long ago, but the truth is life still goes on and it doesn’t seem it’ll change in the near future. If anything this is what best characterizes India, and it took me longer to accept this than I now wish it had.

In retrospect, even with all bad things considered, I was extremely fortunate to have visited Amritsar with Allison, Thomas and Laura. If anything they’re the reason why I didn’t assume that every single place we visited from there on out would be a disappointment or present nasty surprises. This is India, and the sooner you learn to accept that it’s its own country and it has its own way of running things, that you’re better off just accepting what you’re presented and going with the flow, you’ll find the trip a lot more enjoyable. Marco, I do understand what you were trying to explain and I do empathize in many ways, but at the same time I was fortunate to have people with me who helped me open my eyes to the beauty hidden behind all the ugliness. Perhaps in some near or distant future you’ll come back to India and be as fortunate as I was these past two weeks.

Naps, Chipmunks and Admission Fees

 

One of the most apparent aspects of Delhi's - and perhaps all Indian - culture is napping. Much like the Spanish with their siesta the Indians here love a nap, the difference being it doesn’t necessarily need to be after lunch and it’s usually in a garden – or any patch of green large enough to accommodate themselves. This seems to be so immersed in the city’s lifestyle that even the dogs follow it!

Wherever you go around this part of Delhi you’re bound to come across a dog or two and for every five dogs, four will be sleeping. It says a lot about India’s relationship with animals that a lot of these dogs chose to lay in the middle of a busy side walk – although they too prefer gardens – without a worry for being stepped on, or shooed off into some corner. Some will even chose to lie in one of the most dangerous places possible, the side of the road.  What some would consider a result of India’s societal chaos is considered here the coexistence between humans and animals who rightly have their place in society too. But I digress, we were on the topic of gardens… gardens are thus important to Delhi and well taken care of, be they small or large.

Lodi Garden

The Lodi Garden in particular is probably one of the places I so far love most about this city! Large enough to integrate a neighbourhood, this garden is actually more like a small park, home to a wide variety of plant and bird life – it is said to even have vultures, which unfortunately are rarely seen.

Chipmunks are another main feature of the park and, although you can spot them anywhere throughout the city – so long as there are trees nearby – here you’ll witness these little rodents running all about the place, including on – and in! – the old mosque and tombs inside the garden.

Athpula Bridge

Although the Garden itself was built during the late 1930’s, the three tombs inside it date back to the 15^th century. As you walk into Lodi Garden from its main entrance, you cross the 17^th century Athpula Bridge – literally “Eight Pears Bridge” – and spread out throughout the garden you’ll find the tomb of Sikandar Lodi, the Bara Gumbad – Big Dome – and Sheesh Gumbad – Small Dome – tombs and also the tomb of Muhammad Shah. These were the first “sights” I visited since being here and I can now say that they’re fairly small for India standards, however don’t be fooled... the sight is awe inspiring and as much as we tried to capture the magnificence of these monuments in all their grace – admittedly with the use of our little amateur camera – I can assure you that these pictures pale in comparison to the sights themselves.

Muhammad Shah's Tomb



Bara-Gumbad Tomb & Mosque

I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with any nationals on the subject of India’s cultural heritage and history but from what little I’ve seen there is a clear will to promote it not only to foreigners but to nationals alike. As a student of International Relations I can see the advantages that this bolstering of national pride can – and will – bring India in the long run, especially given its search to assert itself as a world power. As a tourist from “back home” it makes me wonder whether our government could perhaps learn from India in this respect, or whether we as a people simply take for granted that which can still do more than serve as a nice picture on facebook. A good example of this can be seen in admission fees to certain sights. Lodi Garden is free and welcome to all but other Sights, such as Safdarjung’s Tomb and Qutub Minar charge an admission fee that varies according to whether you’re a foreigner or national.

At this time I cannot compare the admission fees at Qutub Minar – as I don’t recall them –which is just as well, considering that Allison and I weren’t able to take any pictures of this world wonder because “someone” forgot the camera’s memory card the day we went there (g’job G!)... Looking on the bright side this gives a reason to return and for a new post but for now, let’s get back to this one.

Safdarjung’s Tomb I can speak of and, as to admission fees Allison and I each paid Rs.100 (Rs. = Indian Rupees), roughly €1.80 at the current exchange rate, whereas any national will pay about Rs.5... need I bother with converting?  

Safdarjung's Tomb East Entrance

 

Sheesh Gumbad

Unfortunately for some even this small amount of money is still too much to be done without, as there are those who survive on as much as Rs.80 a day, however it does allow for a vast number to visit this amazing place. Built in honour of the emperor Muhammad Shah’s – not the one mentioned earlier – first prime, Safdarjung, back in the 18^th century. The sight itself takes no more than twenty minutes or so in its entirety, yet I suggest – should you plan on visiting – that you bring along a little blanket and a small picnic, or simply indulge yourself in this typical Delhi custom of lolling about on the grass and cease the opportunity to relax in the gardens while you bask in the splendour of this world wonder and ponder on the spectacular marvel that humanity has achieved again and again... or simply do as the Indians do and take a nap.

Safdarjung's Tomb

First Impressions



After a few days of being in Delhi I feel I'm finally ready to write about my few first impressions of India and its culture, or at least the Indian culture in Delhi. First of all, for those who don't yet know, half of my life was spent in Maputo, Mozambique, and so it was quite surprising as to how much - at first! - Delhi reminded me of it, despite of how far more advanced it is in comparison. Now, it's 4h30am on a Monday and some of Allison's neighbours are throwing fireworks! She says they're probably commemorating the end of a wedding... it's been hardly a week and, from what I'm told, I've yet to have seen the core of Delhi and it's inner workings, and yet I've already seen enough that will change the way I look at life forever. 



Bara-Gumbad Tomb



            Wherever you are in the world, wherever you live, there are scents, sounds and sights around you, all of which you learn to either ignore or take for granted with time. Delhi, and the rest of India I am sure, is a place where all of your senses seem to come to life and take control of you. The air here is filled with a mix of scents! One moment you'll be walking down the street and the putrid stench of sewage and sulphur fills your nostrils and a second later you're suddenly struck by an odd mix of sandalwood, cinnamon and a number of other sweet and spicy scents that are pleasing and tickling to the nose. While this happens your eyes are drawn away from the scrawny and malnutritioned people, the shabby looking buses, taxis and tuk-tuks, the dust covered everything, and you notice a group of Indian women dressed in exotically coloured sariis, sometimes with intricate henna drawings all the way to their shoulders, or a couple of Sikh men, their turbans balanced beautifully with a cross of Indian and western clothing and, in any case or gender, be they lower or higher class it all seems to fit in and suddenly the surrounding sights take on a new depth and importance. The same goes for Sound, but before I can explain exactly how I’ve regarded the phenomenon of Sound here in Delhi I need to explain a little about the streets here.

The streets of Delhi are run by chaos, however a “Coordinated Chaos”. One of the first aspects that you come across, of what I'm guaranteed is a behavioural phenomenon witnessable all throughout India, once setting foot outside Indira Ghandi International Airport in Delhi, is Indian traffic. Imagine a group of free agents roaming around at their will and peril all concentrated within the visible and invisible limits of the framework of society, and you'll have an understanding of how I have – so far – perceived traffic here. Roads in Delhi are communication lines that, infrastructure wise, seem to belong in most Modern cities, with all the regulatory signage – to an extent – required to ensure the fluidity of traffic and security of all forms of vehicle (we'll get to this in a bit), perfectly understandable to any foreign driver and, in India's case, simultaneously ignored by most - if not all - national drivers in all forms of varied transport that may or may not belong there.



Now before all else, please understand that my intention is not to criticize India and its people on their driving habits. As a citizen of a country that until recently had one of the EU's highest road death tolls I am actually astonished that, since arriving almost a week ago, I have not yet seen an accident, and herein lies one of the key aspects of my earlier description of Delhi's Coordinated Chaos.



Tuk - Tuk



Apparently in India all one needs to obtain a drivers license is the money required to buy one and, as such, the drivers here drive according to what I can only imagine is an unspoken agreement to constantly warn every vehicle and person, in the visible and non-visible vicinity, of one's impending approach, which is done by Honking. Today, as Allison's family and I walked alongside the road to Qutab Minar I noticed that on the back of many buses they actually have written "Please Horn". This constant orchestra can drive one insane if you're not willing to accept that this is how things work here and, odds are, it will not change. If Delhi is in fact a city of senses, car horns are unquestionably what you would choose to describe Sound. I don't mean to send out the idea that car horns are what will solely fill one's ears here, there are of course sounds which are extremely exotic and natural to India such as Bird calls. At any given time during the day, if you find yourself in a more sheltered area from the traffic, you're bound to hear three or four different types of bird chirpping away as they either fly by or simply perch on a branch. Come the end of the day though and you need only pass by a tree, to hear dozens of birds chirpping madly, giving any passerby quite the musical treat.



Khan Market



As to what you can find on these streets, seeing as Allison's parents live in one of the more suburban areas of Delhi, I've so far been spared and sheltered from the plethora of pack animals that one can find in most city centers, towns and roads throughout India. However, on my first day here, on our way home from the Airport at about 7am, Jim - Allison's father - and I saw an elephant being ridden on the road. This served as, not only a source of great amusement and laughter but also, a clear sign that I was in India.

Taste is obviously a predominant sense here in India and since arriving I’m quite pleased to say that this particular sense has been pampered. On my first day here I was treated by Allison’s father to a quick lunch, at the equivalent of an Indian fast-food restaurant in the local bazaar – renowned throughout Delhi – Khan Market.

Once famous for having been among some of the most expensive real estates in the world, the shops that make up this market today cater to just about anyone looking for anything. The market is also home to a number of little cafés, bars, and obviously some restaurants. The one mentioned earlier is called Khan Chacha and specializes in Indian “wraps” which are unsurprisingly delicious! Overall the food tends to be quite spicy, as one would expect, but the spices here are different and the experience isn't unbearable, much to the contrary! As your taste buds are hit with an explosion of different flavors, all concentrated in one forkful, you feel your mind letting go of all other thoughts and worries, concentrating solely on the gastronomical wonder that you've been presented with. Believe me when I say that "food for the soul" would be quite the understatement. Another great advantage to this mixture of spices is that it seems to fill you up a lot more than what you might regularly be used to. Just one of these small wraps managed to keep me satisfied for half a day!

As the date of the beggining our travels approaches, Allison and I are getting quite excited about what we'll be able to see and experience. As I said earlier, so far we've seen only a small sample of what India has to offer and yet it's already been a worthy cultural experience on its own! I'll be writing more about these later on tonight, with more pictures to share, but right now I have matters that I must see to... dinner time!

Coming to India

For those friends and family who don't yet know, for the next six weeks I'll be in India. I was invited to spend Christmas with my girlfriend's family this year and, seeing as they currentely work and live in India, we decided to make the best of both of worlds and try and extend my stay here as long as possible.

My objective is to share the experiences I'll have here, posting as often as possible. Hopefully, for those who've never contemplated visiting India, this will serve as an incentive to visit this country and experience all it has to offer, and for those who've been dreaming of visiting this blog might serve as a suggestion of places to visit, things to do, meals to try and so on. For those who don't yet know me and came across my blog, I hope you find it interesting.

Most of my stay will be spent in Delhi, India's capital, so ultimately this blog will give a more in depth view of Delhi rather than other cities, however we will be travelling to other places and I'll make sure to be as detailed as possible about every spot visited. Feel free to comment or contact me for any questions or doubts you might have!

Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I'll definately enjoy writing!

Cheers,
G.