Agra and the Taj Mahal

Agra is a hole and the Taj dull,in my opinion. I was worried that one night and only half a day might not be long enough, it was plenty, we couln’t wait to get out of that town.
The streets at night are dangerous with locals drinking from about 9pm onwards, it’s not at all safe to go out alone. I’d wanted so much to see the Taj glimmering in the moonlight, and we’d arrived on the night of the full moon, but by the time we settled in to our accommodation it was 10pm, and all the restaurants with ‘Taj views’ were closing. So we dragged ourselves up at 5 am the next day to see it in the sunrise, but by the time they let us in, the sun was already up.
After paying more than the average Indians weekly wages to go inside (including access to 4 other Agra sites we had no intention of visiting and a free bottle of water that we never got) we saw the Taj. It is lovely and the first glimpse is like a children’s book coming to life, but the water in the ponds is scummy, the gardens threadbare, and constantly dodging helpful fellows who want to tell you the best place to take a photo (for a tip of course) is annoying.

We had to wear funny feet protectors to walk on the platform and inside the mausoleaum, that was about the brightest point in the morning. The precious stones inlayed into the marble are beautiful, but the finest work is in the mausoleum, and it’s too dark to see. Sean tried to take a photo and got whistled at by a security man (I gutlessly disowned him) then the security man dragged him into the inner tomb, pushed other tourists out of the way and insisted he take a photo there! He didn’t.
We tried to drag it out, but 3 hours later we were so over it, and still had an hour and a half until our taxi came to pick us up.
So dodging the relentless taxi touts and keychain selling children, we found Lucky Restaurant and ordered strong Nes-coffees! Lucky Hari (the Indian Richard Gere, in both of their younger years) was a nice fellow, and showed us 10 years worth of visitors comments (many very stoned and very satisfied customers) to prove it. He told us about how Agra and the Taj had changed for the worse. 20 years ago he used to be able to go into the gardens, roll a joint and play his flute in the gardens for the tourists, that’s when we realised the Taj had been souless, one of the most boring and lifeless places in vibrant India. Some singing and music in the gardens, some fresh juices and a few grazing cows would have made the place come alive.
After regaling us with stories of the Brahma creating the world, and mantras for good life, and how fit and handsome he used to be in his day, Lucky gave us a little goodbye present of a piece of sweet smelling hash. And we’d only spent 60 rupees there.

Apart from Hari, we were desperate to escape Agra, our taxi never turned up, so we had to walk to the gauntlet of persistant, overcharging taxis leading away from the Taj, until we found a lovely man on a cycle rickshaw (personally my favourite way to travel) who pedalled us slowly and happily back to our hotel, to gather our bags, tick the Taj mahal off our list and escape from Agra.

Happy to be leaving!