Agra-vation

And so it is... a visit to India will never feel complete until you've been to see the Taj Mahal. Part of me screamed "No, don't bow down to the blatant tourism", but more of me screamed "I want to see it... I want to see it", and so here I am. Agra, in Uttar Pradesh, home of the infamous Taj.

My train arrived into Agra Fort station at the late hour of 10:30pm. Predictably again It was not long before I was acosted by multiple offers of rikshaw rides and sightseeing tours for the next day. Having already booked my accomodation right next to the Taj Mahal I decided a tour was not required and a simple journey to my hotel would suffice. And so it was. However, upon arrival, getting rid of my rikshaw man proved to be the toughest job yet - he was quite insistant that I took a tour with him in the morning, 'No' didn't seem to be a word he was farmiliar with, despite his otherwise comprehensive grasp of the English language. Agra appears to be home to some of the most persitant tradesmen in the business. It's little wonder, as 90% of tourists will eventually find themselves here just as I do now. Easy pickings.

In the morning I was up at 6:00am, bright and early and ready to catch the first radient dance of the sun across the polished marble of the world's greatest testament to love. Opening my door I was met with greyness and the promise of thick cloud overhead. Slightly disapointing, but I felt sure it couldn't last long.

By 7:00am I was entering the East Gate of the Taj compound and unquestioningly paying the obscene foreign ticket price and undergoing a rigouraous security check. Where else in the world would it be considered OK to charge a person of one race 20Rs, and a person of another race 750Rs for the same attraction. This is Indian equality at it's finest, still, there really is no arguing and people like me keep on paying (after travelling so far to see it) and so it goes on.

Once inside the gate I began my walk along the pristine pathways to the centre of the first courtyard. This courtyard was dominated by the main gateway to the Taj garden, with it's Arabic etchings and powerful red brickwork. From here the Taj is not yet visible.

Walking through the archway it all unfolded infront of my eyes. There it stood amidst its perfectly kept lawns and hedgerows. A building of some beauty it has to be said, appearing in a slight haze which denoted it's distance and magnitude. Appearing mathematically perfect, almost like a drawing rather than a physical structure. My camera was out in an instant, and almost as quickly the rain began to fall. At no point in my visit did the sun show its face which to be fair was kind of upsetting, as the play of light across the structure is talked of in such high regard. However as testament to this magical buildings allure, even on a dull grey day it managed to radiate an almost unatural white-ness which cannot be interpreted as anything less than impressive against an angry sky.

I was soaked to the core in under a minute so I ceased to care about it and instead busied myself with (failed) photography attempts and the business of meeting fellow Britains with whom I could discuss the weather. At one point I found myself standing on a raised area admiring the side view of the Taj (it is identical from all sides, this I did not know) when the sudden sinking feeling hits you as you notice that everyone around you is bare foot and that everyone is staring at you. How am I supposed to know??? It happens to everyone at some point i'm sure.

A particularly sad moment was realised when I found myself standing within the most beautiful building ever built, deeply involved in a conversation with 3 strangers about Coventry, Basildon, Slough, Newport and Middlesbrough. Immediately I felt that the moment was being lost to me and directed my attentions to the intricate marble tiling with precious stone inlays.

Exiting the building we found that the rain had stopped and things were a little brighter, but still no sun. A slow miander along the stretched lawns with my new 'friend for the day' Tom, rewarded us with an opportunity to grab a few reasonable photos with which we could be happy and we decided it was probably time to leave.

Next stop was to be Agra Fort. Our ludicrously overpriced tickets for the Taj Mahal came with promise of free entry to four other Agra sights, one of which included the fort, so we decided we should at least try and get our moneys worth from it. Upon arrival at the gate of the fort we were informed that entry (normally 50Rs for foreigners) was indeed free with our magic tickets, however a charge of 250Rs was also required as a top-up for the 'Indian Archeological Society' administration.

Disgusted with the blatant corruption of the whole business we decided to kick up a bit of a fuss. It didn't help to see the locals filing past for a mere 20Rs admition fee, and no mention of the 250Rs IAS charge. Nobody seemed interested in our arguments, but we managed to get all the way up to see the manager of the location who simply set his mouth to repeat "250Rs for foreigners". Tom was getting quite irate by this time and demanded that the official look him dead in the eyes and tell him he thought that the pricing system was fair. The man sat there looking slightly aukward and staring down at the table repeating his same words. He could not bring himself to look either of us in the eye. The situation became rediculous as both sides sat repeating his case with no hint at a settlement on either side. In the end we had to leave before we ended up in a state prison.

Needless to say we did not visit the fort or indeed anywhere else in Agra which it seems has fallen very deeply into a chaotic and sadening scramble for money. Rikshaw drivers even seem reluctant to drive you anywhere unless you agree to visit 2 or 3 shops enroute so they can pick up their commision. Therefor I have taken to walking everywhere which is helping to pass the time whilst I wait to get out of this place. I daren't even walk close to a shop for fear of being dragged in and forcefully sold something I don't want.

How sad it is that one of Indias greatest treasures should be surrounded on all sides by one of it's blackest marks.