Sitting in the Delhi Airport waiting for the flight to board: Destination Udaipur. It’s not surprising that the flight is delayed, everything is fashionably late in this country.
But it does give me some time to “make-up blog” for yesterday’s thin entry.
Thanks for the comments and e-mails that have been coming in nice to see that some of you still have the stamina to read through the droning.
Hopefully you have had the time to view the youtube driving videos that I have posted. You may have been amazed by the mayhem but trust me, that was a tame sample.
Yesterday was all about the historical sites of Agra but the real adventure was surviving the 9+ hours we spent in the car.
My God, or Allah, or Ganesh! Whoever was looking out for us, I thank you.
All I could think about when driving was how any of my friends could survive the road rules here. My guess is that even the ones who tout themselves as the “best drivers ever” – you know who I am talking about, would either hemorage from road rage or pull off into a nice quite ditch to sit in their cars and soil themselves.
I’m not exaggerating…it’s that bad.
Talking to Nigel and Clare this morning, I’m told that hundreds of tourists die on the road each year and of this I have no doubt at all. Every once and a while you see a crushed truck or bus or tuk tuk rusting on the meridian in memorial.
But we had a very skilled driver who navigated us through and we made it through safely.
Our first stop in Agra was to meet our guide for The Taj and Agra Fort “Mr. Bobby”. Mr. Bobby was a very slick fellow: Ray Ban aviator glasses, beige check patterned sports coat, tight tan polyester pants and pointing polished dress shoes. Enter ZZ Top as he walked across the road in slow motion “ Evvverrrybody crazy ‘bout a sharp dressssssed man”.
Nice enough guy and I really appreciated the way he talked berrrrrrry sloowwwwwly and unnnnnunciated evvvverrrrry thing. I really appreciated the photo composition tips he was giving me, asking regularly to judge the quality of my shots.
Given that I had a horrible migraine from the drive in, Bobby had no idea how close he was to getting a smacked bottom.
But he was absolutely lovely to Nicole and treated her like a Bollywood Star.
On that note: I don’t think I have mentioned Nicole’s notoriety in India. I can’t count how many times she’s been stopped by the locals to have photos taken with her.
Nationals of all casts and group sizes with Nicole standing in the middle; an interesting sight.
Funny thing is that not a single rupee is offered for her time.
I mean really, fair is fair, if they can charge me for taking photographs of them…
I’m also a little jealous that no National asks for my photograph. Their loss, they couldn’t afford the cost per frame anyway.
Okay, back to Bobby. He spent a lot of time talking about the craftsmanship of the marble inlay and it was very unique indeed. Tiny threads of colourful jewels (mother of pearl, onxy, malakyte etc.) were ground on stone sanding wheels and imbedded into hard white Indian Marble. Hardest Marble in the world we are told.
We are also told that the craftsman’s decendents are still living and working not to far from here and he can take us there to see the work done. I could smell the court yard of the Taj filling with the smell of the blantant sales pitch.
My nose wasn’t wrong but I won’t bore you with the details.
I will tell you that once we were taken to meet the craftsman, I tipped the workers and bought nothing from the trinket shop. Hrrrrrummph!
Next stop was Fort Agra, to me far more interesting. Tales of wars, drunk Moguls and Concubines – even got to see the Bathtub of the 4th Mogul Emperor who retrofitted his tub so that his Concubines could blow through tubes into the water and create a hot tub like effect.
Ahhhh ,simpler times.
After the Fort we said goodbye to Bobby and watched as he did his best “John Travolta Strut” across the busy traffic sun glistening against his thick mane of dark hair (parted in the middle of course)
I shouldn’t be so mean.
Next leg of the tour was to Fatepur Sikri (sp) a castle and holy place all wrapped up into one amazing National Monument.
The castle was funded by a Khan by the name of Akbar. He had three wives, one Muslim, one Hindu, one Christian (Brunette, Red Head, Blonde)….OH I’M Kidding, stop being so sensitive!!!!
Akbar believed that all Gods should be viewed in common (no one god is greater than the other) and to this end all faiths were treated equally; very progressive for the 16th century.
I would argue that the reliefs and architecture was superior to the Taj but I would probably be shouted down simply because their isn’t some romantic tale behind it.
But you know. The carvings of Akbar’s Palace tribute all faiths and that to me shows greater love for all mankind…not just to one woman.
GOD I CAN BE DEEP WHEN I WANNA BE!!
The castle rests atop a small mountain and due to his philosophies: a thriving metropolis for its time.
We are told by our new guide…let’s call him “Not Bobby” that during Akbar’s reign 150,000 lived and worked outside of the castle.
After Akbar was gone religious strife began and there was nothing to support the remaining population. Today only 7,000 remain.
And the 7,000 are poorer than poor and rely on us tourists to support the community
“Not Bobby” gave a most excellent tour and was truly earnest in his approach: except for the part when he was telling me how handsome I was and how I looked like a very famous Bollywood Star…Stop laughing Rajesh…and you too Dale!
He had a few sales angles, just as the other Bobby did but I didn’t really mind “Other Bobby did an excellent job.
The journey back home was a little more exhilarating than the morning journey but I had lots of time to talk to the driver and take a few videos of the drive.
Back at the safety of the British Embassy and comfy bed.
Didn’t sleep well – had night terrors residual from the driving I guess.
Up at 5:30 a.m. and spent a lovely great morning with the Casey Family then it was off to the airport.
Next update from Udaipur, City of Lakes and I’m hoping no car horns.
