| Submitted by: Hans Braker & Thea Van Zon, Netherlands |
| Submission Date: 04 February 2005 |
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We walked to Idgah bus station, just fifteen minutes down the road. There the bus (Rs 16) for Fatehpur Sikri left at 8. The ride took almost an hour in a virtually flat landscape - it almost felt like home to us. Fatehpur Sikri is a single hill rising up from the plains. On top is the city, which was inhabited only for several decades. The palaces and mosques are all built of red stone. Splendid!
It is a true pleasure walking among the deserted buildings, most of them still in very good condition. The only drawback of the place is that you can hardly walk around without being bothered by men wanting to be your guide. The trick almost all of them used was to tell they were no guides but students and that you could give them whatever you liked after the tour. Of course if you give them a certain amount they will claim it is really ridiculously little and they'll make a big fuss. The same thing happened to us earlier. And if you do take a guide, make sure he speaks English properly.
Most people do not walk all the way to the river but you should. On the bank is an old caravanserai, outside the Elephant Gate. The atmosphere is really oriental out there.
After having spent several hours in the old city we went down again, looking for a bank in the village at the foot of the hill. We found a bank but there they did not exchange cash dollars. We were advised to go to the State Bank of India in Agra. Wrong advice, since back at Agra they turned out not to change dollars either. But the nearby Bank of Baroda did. And what a transaction! Again an example of bureaucracy. In the bank there was paper lying everywhere, but it was hot so the fans were switched on. And thus more than once we saw papers flying around. Of course the paper had to be filled in in triple, we had to sign and countersign, and then the clerk went away; when he came back he handed us a numbered coin as a proof that the exchanged money was ours, we had to line up before a counter (not really clear which) and when we discovered which clerk handled the transaction we could get our money in return for the coin. Phew.
After lunch at the lodge (Rs 40) with delicious banana pancakes we went to the office of Indian Airlines by cycle-rickshaw (Rs 10). It is located in Clarks Shiraz hotel, one of the most expensive hotels of Agra. We booked a flight from Varanasi to Kathmandu for a couple of days later; we had to take the plane a day before the day we would have liked to. Oh yes, the price: $108 for the two of us. Very good, prompt service.
It was the end of the afternoon so there was still time to do something. We wanted to take a cycle-rickshaw outside Clarks Shiraz, but the rickshaw drivers apparently all planned to wait outside the hotel until an obviously terribly rich person would come out so they could pedal him to the Taj Mahal and back for the price of a normal day's work. They did not want to take us at first, but after some talking and explaining that we did not stay in the hotel, we found a driver (Rs 10). Entrance fort Rs 4, and take care of getting the correct change here... tricky persons.
It was extremely crowded, but the spot and the time were ideal for taking some pictures of the Taj Mahal, situated around a bend in the river in plain view. It was constructed there so the emperor could see it from his palace. The fort itself is also quite impressive. It has a lot of hidden qualities and taking a guide here seems a good idea.
We decided to go to a restaurant which was a bit more touristic, but the food and the atmosphere of Zorba the Buddha did not really appeal to us. We paid Rs 160 for dinner. We walked back and longed for our bed, after this day full of activity, more or less characterised by the hassles with guides, sellers and drivers, as well as by the forts and palaces in red.
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The same early rise as yesterday. Got dressed quickly, gave laundry to the reception and off for the Taj Mahal in the dark (Rs 10). Arrived around 7 am. It was much less crowded than two days before. The sun had just risen a little. Fantastic!! Taking pictures was not a problem. Marvellous compositions possible, like a scene with the Taj Mahal seen from under a gate of one of the flanking mosques. The scene is great for just strolling around on the cool marble and sitting on a bench looking out over the river.
We had breakfast at Relax restaurant, a delicious muesli with curd, apple, banana, cornflakes and honey, and some French toast. A breakfast worthy of the Taj Mahal (Rs 40). We went to a jewelry shop we had seen two days before, and there we bought a pair of silver earrings (Rs 150) and ordered a broche to be made with a black stone in which a star can be seen when held in the sunlight (Rs 350). We paid half of it in advance, and the next day the broche would be ready. We took a rickshaw to the fort - the driver was horrible: he hardly advanced, sat the wrong way around on the saddle most of the time, insisted to take us to shops where we only needed to look around so as to let him earn some baksheesh, and kept on touching both of us to support his arguments. When we finally arrived at the fort he did not want to take us to the gate but stopped way before. We retaliated by paying him less than agreed. We're not proud of it but how else can you make him see you did not like his behaviour and lack of manners at all?
We had a look at the red fort again, this time by daylight. We then walked to the Jami Mashid mosque behind Agra Fort railway station. Not really worth it, although the quarters around it are a spectacular bazaar scene. Rickshaw to GPO, where we could drop off some postcards we still had to mail. Then to the telegraph office to make a phonecal to tell our parents we were still alive. This was not all that straightforward. Apparently the employee did not have much experience with abroad telecommunications, since he tried a dozen times without any success. Then his colleague, proudly introduced as `the expert', managed to establish the connection in his first try... Walked back, same lunch as day before, rested in the afternoon, dinner at Relax again.
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A day of bad luck. We had to go to the area around the Taj Mahal again to get the broche. So we had muesli there like yesterday... Agra became familiar to us and it was time to leave for Varanasi. The broche was ready but the maker had succeeded in making a terrible scratch on the stone. So after a lot of debating we could get our money back, provided we signed a form stating that we did not buy the broche we had ordered; for the taxes the salesman said. Back at the lodge we packed and went to the travel agent where we booked our places for Varanasi - first class. Ah, and we did not forget to pick up the laundry we gave to the reception a day before. The agent took us to the railway station where we should wait until he signalled us. After the train arrived he did signal us, but with the news that there were no first class places available. The swindler! After he checked with the train conductor's notes, he found out he could give us two places in second class. He told us the numbers: 49 and 51. He brought us to the places, chased the five people away who were sitting at places 49, 50 and 51, and told the other passengers that these were our places. But we did not have any written proof of that, and we were correct in assuming that we were not entitled to sit there at all.
But we still had our Indrail Passes. Each time we reserved a train before that day, a train official had written in the pass which places were reserved for us in which train. So we simply added this train and the correct seat numbers to the other reservations in the passes. The train would leave at 12.40, and arrive at Moghulsarai near Varanasi at 1.30 am that night. So it was important to have a place to at least sit. And we had seen before how full it could get. This train got even fuller and when it got dark and time to lower the berths, indeed someone came to claim one of our places. We said we had reservation and the man wanted to check that. We showed our passes and he agreed that we had the reservations. But when someone else claimed the other place and called for the conductor, he gave us only one of the two berths. But the berth was wide enough to let both of us sleep on it. When all berths were in use, there was not a single one on which only one person slept, and the rest of the compartment was also completely full! Wow, what an experience!
We arrived on time in Moghulsarai, but there was no connection for Varanasi until 7 am. There were retiring rooms at the station, but all were occupied. All else that was possible was the first class waiting room. which was hot and full. But we were so tired we managed to sleep lying on three separate chairs arranged in a row. And no comfortable chairs but the ones you'll find in an average cafeteria. At around seven we took the train for Varanasi.
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The train was full of pilgrims. Old men with white beards, dressed in orange, and old women. They had been on that train for a long time, and they were almost at the end of their pilgrimage: the holy river Ganges. When the train crossed a bridge over the river they all prayed and were visibly impressed at the sight of the goal of their journey.
At the railway station we were picked up by an old rickshaw driver who took us to Jogi Lodge (not Yogi Lodge) in a side alley of Harishchandra Road, near Harishchandra Ghat, one of the places for ceremonial cremation. This lodge had been advised by Deepak Lodge in Agra, but we certainly would not advise it to anyone else! It was the only place where we've seen mice and cockroaches during these four weeks. Absolutely run-down. The `rooftop restaurant' they advertise with has no view, and the `staff' is a bunch of money-thirsty and unpleasant people. Since we only had to stay for one night we survived. The amount of Rs 70 was too much for this room.
After a shower we took off for a look at the area, called Godaulia. Down at the ghats (the stairs into the Ganges) boatman try hard to get you into their boats. The thing you should absolutely not miss in Varanasi is a boat trip at sunrise. Paying more than about Rs 30 an hour is not reasonable. The ghats are not only used for bathing in the morning and evening, but during the rest of the day they are used for washing and drying. We walked along the shore of the Ganges in the direction of the center and finally got there through the labyrinth of narrow streets that marks the area at less than two hundred metres from the river.
Further east we found the golden temple, with the help of a little boy who brought us straight into a silk shop, the only place where it is possible to have a good look at the temple. Good location for a shop, nice try at trapping tourists. There are many temples, but it is not always clear if it is permitted to enter them. For whoever likes strolling around in this maze of alleys with shops and sellers everywhere, Varanasi is the place to be. But the image we recall from Varanasi is mainly that is is dirty. And awfully crowded. |
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