Saturday, 27 April 2013

trains and the Taj.

From the sheer craziness of Varanasi we shot along the railway to the more touristy craziness of Agra. An ugly, dusty little town that smells of rotten eggs, we were keen to spend as little time here as possible. While I slept off the train ride of the night before Will went to visit Agra Fort, then after a lunch of lassis and toast it was off to see the Taj. The whole reason for visiting this town and the whole reason it doesn't matter the town itself is so horrible. The Taj Mahal is a beautiful amazing tribute to an obviously slightly insane man's wife who died giving birth to their 14th child. It is also an opportunity to do the hilarious tourist photo where you pretend to hold up a famous monument with your fingertips.
Since the Fort and Taj are the extent of Agra's sights, we spent our next morning there with our new book purchases in one of India's most ubiquitous, air-conditioned chain coffee shops, waiting for our train out.
We were bound for Mumbai, having decided to skip the desert state of Rajhastan owing to ridiculously high temperatures.
Our train ride was broken up by a stopover in a dusty little nothing town where we met a luggage attendant who was reading Paulo Coelho (of The Alchemist fame) and had an incredibly discounted lunch at the restaurant of a nervous young man who had just opened the business and was very eager to please.We also met an interested and curious young boy who was keen to see anything from our lives in Australia and was especially excited when I pulled out the computer and took some photos of him.
Then it was back to the train station to wait for our over-nighter, while curious Indians stood in quiet groups around us and stared.
(Sorry, still no photos. I am trying so as soon as I am successful you'll be able to see proof of our amazing adventures in the sub-continent. Til then, patience my friends!)   

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