Agra and the Taj Mahal (1 night)

My overnight train from Varanasi was my first of the lower 'sleeper' class. The layout is similar to that of 3AC, with 3 tiers of beds and berths of 6 beds opposite 2 side bunks, but it is less comfortable, clean, and obviously doesn't have air-con. This meant that it would be very very cold in the night, so I had bought myself a blanket. Security is also more of an issue, as their is less attendance from a conductor, the carriages are not divided by a shutter as in the higher classes, so people can jump on and off and walk between carriages with relative ease.

Initially, everything went well, the train was on time, I found my bunk without problem, and was with two elderly Indian couples and a student. I even managed to order myself some train food and had it delivered to my bed! Night came, the shutters were drawn down over the open windows to keep out the cold wind, and we all went to bed. I had decided to sleep with my pack by my head, which was better for security, but meant I had to curl up somewhat to fit. Nevertheless, I set my alarm for ten min before the train was due to arrive in Agra and went to sleep without problem.

I woke several times during the night as people were coming and going. The Indian train system is clever in that it sells extra tickets and places those people on a waiting list against likely cancellations. A certain number of people are allowed to enter the train even when they have not been allocated a bed. The conductor is then able to direct them to beths where people have not shown up, or have cancelled etc. However, this didnt seem to explain the sheer number of people boarding. I was unlucky to be in a berth near the very end of the carriage, so I found myself surrounded by these people. They purched on the end of people's beds, stood in the corridor, at one point 2 people were sleeping in the narrow space between the bunks!

When my alarm went off I gathered my things and, as the train began to slow, I hoped down from my bunk and prepared to leave. Of course, with the shutters drawn I could no see out to check where we were. Even if I could have seen a station, it is not always obvious which place it is. Almost the moment I vacated it, my bed was taken by one of the stowaways, and, surprise, surprise, this wasnt Agra. More people got on, squeezing past me and bag, and stuffing the space at the end of the carriage full of young men. Barely able to move, I was stranded. I managed to get the bag off and sat on it, hoping we would soon arrive at my destination. I ended up spending the next 2 hours, sat there with the childish Indian teenagers giggling at me.

By the time we arrived, I was not a happy bunny, but now it was time to argue with the auto-rickshaw drivers about the fare, so I had to try and keep my head. I agreed a reasonable price and then had the pleasure of travelling with not just a driver, but also his friend, or perhaps better described as his accomplice. I had asked to go to the area south of the Taj Mahal, which is where the budget guesthosues gather. All the way there I was asked whether I had a hotel booked, then encouraged to go to one they recommended, and all the way I refused. When they dropped me off, they did so outside one of these hotels, and then as I walked away they proceeded to follow me. If I take the one they lead me to, they would get comission and the price that I paid would be higher in order to accomodate their fee. Tired and frustrated, it was taking immense patience not to snap at them. But I remained cool and eventually lost them and found a room. Phew!

I took a well earnt nap. Once suitably refreshed I ventured up to the rooftop of my guesthouse and found a restaurant with a great view to the Taj Mahal. Shame the food was lame. After lunch I bided my time and waited for late afternoon to visit the famous monument. I wanted to see the Taj in the beautiful afternoon light, and at sun-set, rather than in the middle of the day.

It was worth the wait. The Taj Mahal stands proud, perfectly proportioned, and gleaming bright inside a walled garden. It's raised platform means that you see only sky behind it. Unfortunately, the sky was plain boring with no clouds to make the perfect picture, and the pool in front of the building from which you can usually campture it's reflection was drained, but no matter, it was still beautiful. I joined the mammoth que and had a look inside, though it was a bit dim and hardly comparable to the majesty of the exterior. The Taj is actually a Mausoleum, built by emperor Shan Jahan for his favourite wife Mumtaz and there are his and hers tombs inside. There were pictures of her in the little museum nearby. I thought her a tad ugly to be honest!

That evening I had dinner with an interesting English guy who was traveling around India on an Enfield motorbike. I though that sounded pretty cool! I was in bed nice and early in preparation for my train at a horrendously early time the next morning.

Anyway, I hung around