Time for a story about my second adventure, that happened after only 3 days back at work to recover from Aurangabad.
This was it. The big one. The one Jessica and I had dreamed and schemed and plotted about for weeks, if not months. The one that had involved some complex working out of dates and times (we chose the 1st, 2nd and 3rd of Feb as our requested days off to make it easier with thinking in terms of 'day 1, day 2' etc!), and the one that had cost us more than a month's stipend in travel fares. It was finally here.
The reason it'd cost us so much was that, in order to make this possible in the 3 days we had, we needed to fly up to Delhi. So, on the 31st January, when work was over and dinner had been munched, we did some last minute packing, and then headed out of the Sangam gates. We walked up to the local set of shops - Vishrantwadi - so that we could stop at a cashpoint and stock up on funds, and then grabbed a rickshaw to the airport.
Pune airport is conveniently only about 20minutes from Sangam, so it's very easy to get there, and this means you don't need to go too much in advance. We arrived about an hour before boarding time, checked in, and then wandered around the tiny section of the airport before security. We bought a couple of slices of pizza and a bar of Dairy Milk which we discovered was British-made and therefore expensive, but considered it a special treat! Having munched on our pizza, we decided we'd better head through security. All was fine, until we discovered that my rucksack had been set on a separate table, not with the ones to return to passengers. We pointed to it enquiringly, and a security woman brought it over and asked me to open it. Panic! Now, you must note that we'd decided not to check any bags into the hold - we were only going to be away for a couple of days so didn't need much, plus it was just easier that way. So, everything had been carefully packed and slotted together into tiny spaces in my bag. Including all my spare camera batteries, and chargers for my phone, batteries and mp3 player. It was these things, along with my little tripod, that the security woman removed from my bag and placed in a separate tray, before sending the tray and bag back through the scanner. This passed the test, and I was allowed to gather my things (which got thrown into Jessica's shoulderbag rather than re-packed) and carry on towards the plane. As we were moving up the escalator debating this episode, we realised that in the scanner, all those random little bits of metal probably looked highly suspicious! Oops.
We sat and chatted in the departure lounge for ages, carefully watching the screens and listening to the announcements. When our flight was finally listed as 'boarding', we got up and marched to the doors. To discover that all the other names on the list had ticks next to them. We were the last passengers! Obviously all the Indian passengers knew something we didn't about the airport system. We were still on board earlier than the scheduled departure time, though, so all was ok. Jessica sleeps on planes. She can sleep sitting up. I can't do that unless I'm really really really knackered. So the flight was pretty boring, although I did enjoy being able to look out of the window. We didn't seem to get all that high, and I could see the lights of cities below. At one point, I could see lights below and stars above; it was strange yet beautiful.
We'd arranged for the hotel to send a driver, and he was there with a sign that said 'Philippa Hunt' and a smile on his face. He marched off at a ridiculous pace to the car, and we followed as best we could. His English was limited to being able to ask us where we were from, whether we were sisters or friends, and how long we'd be in Delhi. We answered these questions and then stared in silence out of the window as we drove through many different suburbs of the city. We turned away from what was clearly the centre - and felt vaguely familiar to me - and down some grubby streets. At one point, a load of street dogs started barking and chasing the car. We pulled up next to a tiny, smelly alley, and the driver explained that the hotel was 'at the back' and led us down the path. He tapped on the door, and we were warmly welcomed into the Smyle Inn!
It was lovely. There is no other word. It cost us less than £10 for the night, and was decidedly luxurious for this money. There was a huge bed that would've comfortably slept 4/5 people, and a modern bathroom, that had some hot water. The only problem was that the blankets provided weren't really thick enough, but at 1am neither of us was lucid enough to think of asking for more. We wandered up to the rooftop the next morning for the included breakfast, to discover that it was omelette, bread, cornflakes, banana, and tea or coffee. Perfect. And cornflakes for Jessica which always make her happy! We checked out straight after breakfast, keen to make the most of our time, and asked directions to the nearest Metro station.
I hadn't really noted that Delhi even had a metro system, until Alex's visit (which I just realised I didn't blog about - it was great, maybe I'll add it to a blog soon!) when she said how great it was. We'd done some careful research and printing and labelling of maps before-hand, so knew which stations were nearest the sites we most wanted to see. It cost 100 rupees for a day of travel on the metro. We got cards like oyster cards. Each station had security scanners which was frustrating, but not a problem What was a problem was my initial inability to remember which direction we wanted to head in, so even though we understood the metro/map system, we started out going the wrong way! We only went 1 stop before realising though, so not a disaster. The metro is very strange, in that it is not at all like anything else I've experienced in India. It's clean, and it's efficient. There is a ladies only carriage on each train, and even at rush hour when it's packed, this carriage is pretty friendly. Jessica and I had a lot of fun comparing the system to both the London underground, and the New York subway. At some platforms, the floor was painted with where the doors would be, and people actually lined up to get on the train! It was a very good system.
Our first destination was the Lotus Temple. I never made it there on my previous visits to Delhi, so this was exciting and new. It was a bit of a walk from the metro station, and not clear where we should go, so we wandered in an adjacent park for a bit, before deciding we should go the other way. We knew we were on the right track because we ended up behind, and then amongst, a school group. There seemed to be hundreds of tiny children in white socks and red bobble hats, excitedly skipping and chattering as they made their way to the temple. We had to have our bags checked when we entered, and halfway up remove our shoes. Again, it was all very well organised; apparently by volunteers. When we reached the entrance of the temple, we were asked to line up, and then someone explained, first in Hindi, then in English, about the principles of the baha'i religion, and that the temple was for all people to meditate. We were encouraged to enter and sit in silence to respect others, which we did. The benches were marble and cold on one's bottom, but the building was stunningly beautiful. It's huge, and white, and different from anything else. Jessica commented on how cool is was that there was no real focal point - no altar or deity - just a microphone for when services happened. It was definitely a peaceful place where one could easily sit and think all day, if one was so inclined. On exiting the temple, we sat on the steps by the pools of water at the bottom for a while, before deciding that we should probably move on to our next destination.
We decided to try and get a rickshaw, because using the metro would mean going all the way back up to the centre on one line, only to go all the way down another, parallel line. We figured a rickshaw could just go straight across. In theory, we were right. In practise, we were wrong. We hit traffic. We sat in virtually stationary noisy, dirty traffic for half an hour. Successfully communicated to the driver to drop us at the next metro station he could crawl to, and got out of the rickshaw. We could still see the temple and were only 1 metro stop further on. Lesson learnt - stick to the metro!
We only lost about 40minutes, which wasn't bad really in the grand scheme of things as we'd been so organised in the morning. So we hopped on the metro, changed lines, and went all the way down to Qutab Minar. This is the site of one of the tallest stone-built towers in the world, and also a large iron pillar, which was all I could remember from my previous visit. I'm still kind of in the dark about what it represented, but maybe I'll wikipedia it in a bit! Anyway, it was very beautiful and we took lots of photographs; we were also amused because the little children in red were also there! They'd obviously crawled through the traffic in their school bus, and arrived about the same time we did!
The plan now was to make our way back up the yellow line - which I'd been equating to the central line in London without really thinking about it - it had all the main attractions on it. It was nearing lunctime, so we headed for Dilli Haat; a handicrafts market/permanent exhibition, that also by some weird coincidence, was where Bert - a friend of Jen's who'd stayed at Sangam for a while - was hanging out. We'd sent him a text suggesting to meet there earlier, but he'd not realised it was from us, so it really was very strange that he and his new friends just happened to also be having lunch there. Jessica and I gorged ourselves on momos (yay!) and rice and paneer, before taking a brief wander around the stalls. We both bought a couple of things, but luckily for our purses (and our timing), not all the stalls were open; something to do with the 1st of the month bringing season changes?!
We now headed right up to the top of the metro map; into Old Delhi. The final thing on Jessica's 'must see' list was Lal Quila - the red fort. We got a friendly cycle-rickshaw man to take us there from the metro station, at which point I was confused, as I had been convinced that I'd already been to the fort, but it didn't look like I remembered! On entering, I realised that I hadn't been there at all; I'd visited the mosque which was also red but not nearly so big or impressive. It was a really beautiful place to walk around - it'd have made a lovely picnic spot - but it took us a lot longer than we'd originally predicted (because it was based on my faulty memory).
This wasn't a problem, as we felt that we'd achieved a lot, but it meant having to explain to our cycle rickshaw driver (cyclist?!) that we now needed to go to the train station. Here begins the only really frustrating part of the day:
The cycle-rickshaw guy asked if we wanted to go to the mosque; it was part of the tour that we'd initially agreed to. We said no very vehemently, but all too soon, I saw it looming up ahead of us. We got off the rickshaw and paid him his 200rupees, because we now needed an autorickshaw to get us to the station. He insisted that we had to pay him an extra 50rupee tip, so we did, and then dashed across the road to the only tuktuk in sight. He agreed to take us to the station, and in our hurry, we didn't agree a price. Big mistake. And one that we'd never make at home in Pune. Anyway, he had to check 2 or 3 times WHICH station we wanted to go to; resulting in my pulling out the map we'd photocopied from the lonely planet and showing him EXACTLY where we wanted to go. Satisfied we were on the right track, we then had to deal with more Delhi traffic. We drove past the station up a hill, guessing that we'd turn back on ourselves and go down the adjacent road. This was sort of correct - the driver stopped, and told us to walk. It was probably 500metres or so, but it was also about 3 minutes until our train was scheduled to leave. The driver was also insisting on a price of 300rupees because he was now stuck in the traffic, and this was an extortionate amount of money. He knew we were foreigners in a hurry and would get his money though, so I angrily thrust it at him, and we half jogged, half ran into the station, up the steps and down onto the next platform, and then onto the train. Which started moving just as we found our seats and started negotiating with the people already sitting in them. So that was fun!
The train journey was pretty boring really. We met a strange Russian girl who didn't seem very prepared (she asked about our hotel/ rickshaw plans once we got to Agra, and also then asked some foreigners in the next compartment), read our books, and played boxes, to the amusement of a man opposite who watched with interest and occasionally pointed out a possible move to Jessica, who lost. It was dark so there wasn't much to be seen out of the windows, and time passed quite slowly.
We'd arranged with the hotel in Agra to be met at the station as well. This time, it was a rickshaw driver. He smiled and shook both our hands, led us to his rickshaw, and then demonstrated excellent English as he explained the reason his rickshaw wouldn't start up was that it had got too cold! It ran eventually though, and he drove us, chatting and laughing all the way, through the winding streets of Agra, past a Muslim wedding procession complete with bridge in a carriage and trumpets and fairy lights, and safely to the hotel which was another familiar site to me. I was relieved about this, as I'd only guessed at the name of the hotel I used last time, based on options in the Lonely Planet! Our rickshaw driver - who we later discovered was called Manish - showed us a map of the city, warned us about the hawkers that were everywhere in the area, encouraged us to get up early to see the Taj (as we'd planned) then come back for a shower and breakfast, before touring for the day. His English was encouraging and he was obviously used by the hotel a lot, so we agreed to engage his services. Having checked in, we dumped our stuff and proceeded to the restaurant for some much-needed grub. It was really tasty. Then we did some organising (which made our room look like a pigsty, but it was the first time we'd really had the chance to throw things around without being in a rush) and fell into bed - this time under a lovely, thick quilt (or perhaps what Jessica would call a comforter - I learnt what one of those is this week!).
We woke up at 5:30 am, shivering and tired, and wondering why on earth we'd thought it'd be a good idea to wear saris as they take longer to put on than normal clothes. This wonderment continued when we realised that we'd both forgotten to bring safety pins - which are essential in holding the puloo in place. Drat. We'd both told ourselves to remember them, and had failed. Luckily, however, I had decided to take a LOT of harigrips (bobby pins) with me, and so we worked out a way to use these instead! Properly dressed, we threw warm jumpers over the top, and headed for the Taj. The gate was only a couple of minutes away, and we joined the queue of foreigners lining up for tickets, collecting their shoe covers, and then lining up to enter the Taj complex. It was cold, but not freezing as we'd thought it might have been which was good.
We decided to go ahead and take the obligatory beautiful photos of us in our saris before loads and loads of people got in the way, so headed to the raised platform by the pools, and took photos of each other, before asking a friendly french couple to take some shots of the 2 of us together. They laughed at us shivering without our jumpers on, but obliged, and then we took some shots for them, too. We continued on our explorations, taking photographs, and generally being ignored by people, although a few of the Indians looked quite amused that we were in saris. One woman asked to have her photo taken with us, but that was all. Much better than in some places. We were there until the sun came up and lit the mausoleum, and then we headed back to the hotel for breakfast. Jessica's cornflakes never turned up which was a little disappointing, but otherwise it was good. We had hot chocolates to warm our icy hands :)
We had some time to wash our hair (we just about managed to get hot water in the bucket) and re-pack everything, walk back towards a different gate of the taj to find an atm, and then pay our bill. Manish appeared and we hopped in his rickshaw, ready for what the day would bring. He first drove us to the fort, and when he pulled over, we quizzed him on the plan for the day and how much it would cost us - having learnt from the previous night. He looked genuinely hurt that we'd asked and insisted that at the end of the day, we should pay 'what we felt was right in our hearts'. He also gave us just enough information about the fort for us to not need to consider hiring a guide, and to find our way around it easily. We marched off excitedly while he parked up on the side of the road, happy for us to spend 'hours' there if we so desired.
Jess and I are pretty quick tourists though; we'd practised well in our rushed day in Delhi. We were probably at the fort for 45minutes or so. We enjoyed the sights over the river towards the Taj Mahal, we marvelled at the architecture, we argued with a woman who wanted 'baksheesh' for 'guarding' our shoes when we went in the mosque. It was great. Then we returned to Manish, and he took us to the 'Baby Taj'. Similar story - lots of wandering, lots of photography. We also stopped for what we felt was a much needed and deserved Dairy Milk break; sitting on the edge of the old gutters in the floor. Geoffrey popped his head out to be photographed, and we just sat and chilled for a bit because it was a lovely day, a lovely location, and nice to feel like we actually had time to relax for a few minutes, and not have to rush off to the next thing straight away.
The next stop was Mehtab Bagh - the gardens opposite the Taj Mahal across the river. It's very orderly, and the lines of trees reminded me of going to pick-your-own apple orchards with the grandparents at home. We amused ourselves taking touristy photos of Jess with the Taj in the background, and then decided we'd have another break - this one involving the kitkats that Steph had kindly supplied us with before we left. It was definitely lunchtime by this point, and so Manish asked us what kind of food we'd like to eat. We told him we'd eat anything if it was reasonably priced; he asked us if we'd like a garden restaurant. Intrigued, we nodded our heads and allowed him to take us to his restaurant of choice.
The restaurant was hidden down a little alley, behind the shops on the main street. It looked like it was family-run out of their own kitchen, and it was lovely. A big, open garden space with tables and chairs, and also an inside bit, apparently with internet access. Manish said that in the warm weather, it's very popular at night because you can dine under the stars! He sat and chatted with us until the food came, then tactfully disappeared while we ate. It was really yummy, but there was so much of it that we didn't really feel we'd made a dent. This has been the one difficulty with ordering food when we go out - we usually ask for a similar menu, but portion sizes vary hugely!
After lunch, it was shopping time! We were in the handicrafts area, and Manish took us to a variety. We were aware that he'd be getting commission if we bought things, but didn't mind at all, and every place he took us to took the time to really explain the processes to us and chat with us, before trying to sell us things. First up was marble. We got to see how the stones are hand-ground to fit, the hardness of the glue they use, and to learn a bit about the history. We explored the shop - which was filled with beautiful things - and each bought a couple of magnets, as they were lovely and we figured they'd probably stand a fair chance of surviving in our bags on the journey home. Next was a fabric shop; Jessica fell in love with a bedspread and we spent a long time debating whether it was worth the money... it came home with us. Then there was a jewellery shop where we got to see all the pretty Agra/India specific stones - like the star ruby; of which I bought Izi a set of earrings during my last trip for her 18th birthday. Very expensive stuff, but very pretty.
Finally, we went to a carpet factory. This was really interesting - the manager who showed us around let us see every stage, from the men in the office painstakingly drawing and painting designs onto squared paper, to the actual weaving process, through washing, trimming and finishing. We were offered (and accepted) chai, and then sat back as beautiful carpets of differing sizes and designs were rolled out in front of us. It really was quite a show; at one point he sounded like he was recording a tv commercial. We explained that we were students and didn't really have anywhere to put a carpet right now, so he showed us 'student sized' carpets, which were square wall hangings. They were lovely, but also made of silk, so the price was not so student friendly. We got the impression, though, that the manager hadn't really expected us to buy his big expensive rugs, and was just enjoying showing us, so we didn't feel too guilty.
When we left, we had about 30minutes to spare before we needed to be at the train station. We asked Manish to find us an internet cafe so we could check if we had confirmed seat numbers, and happily, discovered that we did. He then took us back to the garden restaurant for chai - which he either got for free or treated us to, before taking us to the station. At the restaurant, he chatted to us about his family, the importance of work, and then philosophised about love, true love, marriage, divorce etc. It was really interesting, but pretty random! He also asked us to write in his book, and brought out a notebook that was filled with messages of thanks - in many languages - from previous tourists he'd taken on tours. We wrote a message in both English and French as he like collecting the languages, and then got back in the rickshaw for the last stretch of the journey.
When we arrived at the station, we had to pay Manish. We'd been debating about this a lot, because whilst it was lovely of him to say that we could pay whatever, my experience of this statement in India was that it actually meant 'pay whatever, as long as it's equal to or more than what I want', and even if he really didn't mind what we paid, we didn't want to short-change him, as he'd been a truly excellent driver and guide. We'd both come up with the figure of 1,500; and we took that as a 'sign from our hearts' - plus I had a vague recollection of paying 1000 for a day's rickshaw the last time I was here. So this was what we did. As we got out of the rickshaw, he shook both our hands, and I passed over the money. He didn't even look at it, but just put it in his pocket. Which proved to me that he was as honest as we'd considered him to be. He walked us in to the station, checked which platform we needed, shook our hands once more and said goodbye.
The first thing we did was check the chart to confirm that our names were on it. We took a photo as we'd forgotten to print a new ticket with the updated information on it (previously our tickets had been waitlisted, then RAC 'Reserved Against Cancellation', so our seat numbers weren't on our copy). Then we headed for the toilets, so that we could put all our clothes on! We were expecting the night-time train ride to be a wee bit nippy, and so resolved to add a couple of tshirts under what we were currently wearing. This was tricky, because the toilets were Indian and not at all clean, so there was a lot of balancing on shoes and hanging jumpers off shoulders while we dressed. But we managed. Now feeling quite warm, we wandered along the station to buy some crisps and drinks for the journey, before picking a spot to plonk ourselves, and plonking!
The train that came in wasn't labelled with the name we'd expected it to be, but all the signs said it was our train, so we started to walk towards our carriage - Sleeper 1, right at the back of the train - and found a conductor half-way down who confirmed that it was indeed our train. We clambered on to discover 4 men sitting on our berth - yes, just one between us - but they moved when we indicated that it was our number.
We decided to try and sleep pretty early on. We'd seen the sunset, and were knackered. The next few hours were spent with one or both of us dropping off intermittently, then waking up, re-shaping the jigsaw puzzle of knees and elbow and bags, and falling back to sleep. It wasn't comfortable, or particularly warm, but we did get some sleep.
I should probably mention that we'd deliberately decided to fly up and get the train back down, because we decided a 22hour overnight train was something we just had to do. I think in the night we both had moments where we regretted that decision, but overall I'm glad we did it. The train woke up at around 730, and we stopped for quite a long time at one station so people could hop off and get something to eat; a lot of people were using the sink right by our berth to brush their teeth etc. As the day warmed up, we both ventured to the toilet to remove all the layers we'd put on the night before, and then settled down to enjoy the rest of the trip. There was a large group of men in the berths next to and above us; we're not sure whether they knew each other before the journey or not as they seemed to be a pretty diverse bunch, but they were happy and chatting and sharing lots of food, and I got the distinct impression that they were quite amused by the two white girls who didn't have warm blankets in the night. But they didn't bother us at all.
We read, we chatted, we watched for station names out of the window to try and work out where we were. We bought chai and soup and biryani, we ate the last of the kitkats and we took photographs out of the window. We listened to music - sometimes on Jessica's ipod, sometimes it was the Justin Bieber someone was blasting out of their phone. We had a conversation with a guy who was hanging out of the door and looking in our window, and we avoided the gaze of the man in the red vest who'd spent every waking minute staring in our direction. It was great fun.
When we finally got into Pune (and were feeling proud of ourselves for recognising it), the train stopped. For 20minutes. To refuel. It was so frustrating. We were home, but we weren't. A couple of men hopped off the train and walked, and we debated doing the same, but considering we didn't actually know how far away the station was, we thought that would be a silly plan. When the train got moving, it was only a couple of minutes before we pulled into the platform. We weaved through the throng of people trying to get on the train (making us doubly glad we were off it), argued about prices with a couple of rickshaw drivers, and then headed for home.
It was great how much like home the streets of Pune felt. The busy traffic didn't seem busy at all compared to Delhi, the dirt was less than in Agra. And we recognised the types of people, the number plates had the right prefixes, the bridges and temples we passed were familiar. We were home.
The trip was truly, truly awesome. I'm really glad that we had the opportunity to do it, and did it. I'm glad that Jessica and I get on so well and had a super time together. I'm glad that I saw and did some different things, and enjoyed things I'd done before in a different way. It was knackering, but worth it. We slept well that night, after a yummy dinner of tacos, and then returned to the world of work.
TTFN
This was it. The big one. The one Jessica and I had dreamed and schemed and plotted about for weeks, if not months. The one that had involved some complex working out of dates and times (we chose the 1st, 2nd and 3rd of Feb as our requested days off to make it easier with thinking in terms of 'day 1, day 2' etc!), and the one that had cost us more than a month's stipend in travel fares. It was finally here.
The reason it'd cost us so much was that, in order to make this possible in the 3 days we had, we needed to fly up to Delhi. So, on the 31st January, when work was over and dinner had been munched, we did some last minute packing, and then headed out of the Sangam gates. We walked up to the local set of shops - Vishrantwadi - so that we could stop at a cashpoint and stock up on funds, and then grabbed a rickshaw to the airport.
Pune airport is conveniently only about 20minutes from Sangam, so it's very easy to get there, and this means you don't need to go too much in advance. We arrived about an hour before boarding time, checked in, and then wandered around the tiny section of the airport before security. We bought a couple of slices of pizza and a bar of Dairy Milk which we discovered was British-made and therefore expensive, but considered it a special treat! Having munched on our pizza, we decided we'd better head through security. All was fine, until we discovered that my rucksack had been set on a separate table, not with the ones to return to passengers. We pointed to it enquiringly, and a security woman brought it over and asked me to open it. Panic! Now, you must note that we'd decided not to check any bags into the hold - we were only going to be away for a couple of days so didn't need much, plus it was just easier that way. So, everything had been carefully packed and slotted together into tiny spaces in my bag. Including all my spare camera batteries, and chargers for my phone, batteries and mp3 player. It was these things, along with my little tripod, that the security woman removed from my bag and placed in a separate tray, before sending the tray and bag back through the scanner. This passed the test, and I was allowed to gather my things (which got thrown into Jessica's shoulderbag rather than re-packed) and carry on towards the plane. As we were moving up the escalator debating this episode, we realised that in the scanner, all those random little bits of metal probably looked highly suspicious! Oops.
We sat and chatted in the departure lounge for ages, carefully watching the screens and listening to the announcements. When our flight was finally listed as 'boarding', we got up and marched to the doors. To discover that all the other names on the list had ticks next to them. We were the last passengers! Obviously all the Indian passengers knew something we didn't about the airport system. We were still on board earlier than the scheduled departure time, though, so all was ok. Jessica sleeps on planes. She can sleep sitting up. I can't do that unless I'm really really really knackered. So the flight was pretty boring, although I did enjoy being able to look out of the window. We didn't seem to get all that high, and I could see the lights of cities below. At one point, I could see lights below and stars above; it was strange yet beautiful.
We'd arranged for the hotel to send a driver, and he was there with a sign that said 'Philippa Hunt' and a smile on his face. He marched off at a ridiculous pace to the car, and we followed as best we could. His English was limited to being able to ask us where we were from, whether we were sisters or friends, and how long we'd be in Delhi. We answered these questions and then stared in silence out of the window as we drove through many different suburbs of the city. We turned away from what was clearly the centre - and felt vaguely familiar to me - and down some grubby streets. At one point, a load of street dogs started barking and chasing the car. We pulled up next to a tiny, smelly alley, and the driver explained that the hotel was 'at the back' and led us down the path. He tapped on the door, and we were warmly welcomed into the Smyle Inn!
It was lovely. There is no other word. It cost us less than £10 for the night, and was decidedly luxurious for this money. There was a huge bed that would've comfortably slept 4/5 people, and a modern bathroom, that had some hot water. The only problem was that the blankets provided weren't really thick enough, but at 1am neither of us was lucid enough to think of asking for more. We wandered up to the rooftop the next morning for the included breakfast, to discover that it was omelette, bread, cornflakes, banana, and tea or coffee. Perfect. And cornflakes for Jessica which always make her happy! We checked out straight after breakfast, keen to make the most of our time, and asked directions to the nearest Metro station.
I hadn't really noted that Delhi even had a metro system, until Alex's visit (which I just realised I didn't blog about - it was great, maybe I'll add it to a blog soon!) when she said how great it was. We'd done some careful research and printing and labelling of maps before-hand, so knew which stations were nearest the sites we most wanted to see. It cost 100 rupees for a day of travel on the metro. We got cards like oyster cards. Each station had security scanners which was frustrating, but not a problem What was a problem was my initial inability to remember which direction we wanted to head in, so even though we understood the metro/map system, we started out going the wrong way! We only went 1 stop before realising though, so not a disaster. The metro is very strange, in that it is not at all like anything else I've experienced in India. It's clean, and it's efficient. There is a ladies only carriage on each train, and even at rush hour when it's packed, this carriage is pretty friendly. Jessica and I had a lot of fun comparing the system to both the London underground, and the New York subway. At some platforms, the floor was painted with where the doors would be, and people actually lined up to get on the train! It was a very good system.
Our first destination was the Lotus Temple. I never made it there on my previous visits to Delhi, so this was exciting and new. It was a bit of a walk from the metro station, and not clear where we should go, so we wandered in an adjacent park for a bit, before deciding we should go the other way. We knew we were on the right track because we ended up behind, and then amongst, a school group. There seemed to be hundreds of tiny children in white socks and red bobble hats, excitedly skipping and chattering as they made their way to the temple. We had to have our bags checked when we entered, and halfway up remove our shoes. Again, it was all very well organised; apparently by volunteers. When we reached the entrance of the temple, we were asked to line up, and then someone explained, first in Hindi, then in English, about the principles of the baha'i religion, and that the temple was for all people to meditate. We were encouraged to enter and sit in silence to respect others, which we did. The benches were marble and cold on one's bottom, but the building was stunningly beautiful. It's huge, and white, and different from anything else. Jessica commented on how cool is was that there was no real focal point - no altar or deity - just a microphone for when services happened. It was definitely a peaceful place where one could easily sit and think all day, if one was so inclined. On exiting the temple, we sat on the steps by the pools of water at the bottom for a while, before deciding that we should probably move on to our next destination.
The Lotus Temple:
Geoffrey demonstrating the pools we sat by:
We decided to try and get a rickshaw, because using the metro would mean going all the way back up to the centre on one line, only to go all the way down another, parallel line. We figured a rickshaw could just go straight across. In theory, we were right. In practise, we were wrong. We hit traffic. We sat in virtually stationary noisy, dirty traffic for half an hour. Successfully communicated to the driver to drop us at the next metro station he could crawl to, and got out of the rickshaw. We could still see the temple and were only 1 metro stop further on. Lesson learnt - stick to the metro!
We only lost about 40minutes, which wasn't bad really in the grand scheme of things as we'd been so organised in the morning. So we hopped on the metro, changed lines, and went all the way down to Qutab Minar. This is the site of one of the tallest stone-built towers in the world, and also a large iron pillar, which was all I could remember from my previous visit. I'm still kind of in the dark about what it represented, but maybe I'll wikipedia it in a bit! Anyway, it was very beautiful and we took lots of photographs; we were also amused because the little children in red were also there! They'd obviously crawled through the traffic in their school bus, and arrived about the same time we did!
The Tower (MINARet)
The Iron Pillar:
The plan now was to make our way back up the yellow line - which I'd been equating to the central line in London without really thinking about it - it had all the main attractions on it. It was nearing lunctime, so we headed for Dilli Haat; a handicrafts market/permanent exhibition, that also by some weird coincidence, was where Bert - a friend of Jen's who'd stayed at Sangam for a while - was hanging out. We'd sent him a text suggesting to meet there earlier, but he'd not realised it was from us, so it really was very strange that he and his new friends just happened to also be having lunch there. Jessica and I gorged ourselves on momos (yay!) and rice and paneer, before taking a brief wander around the stalls. We both bought a couple of things, but luckily for our purses (and our timing), not all the stalls were open; something to do with the 1st of the month bringing season changes?!
We now headed right up to the top of the metro map; into Old Delhi. The final thing on Jessica's 'must see' list was Lal Quila - the red fort. We got a friendly cycle-rickshaw man to take us there from the metro station, at which point I was confused, as I had been convinced that I'd already been to the fort, but it didn't look like I remembered! On entering, I realised that I hadn't been there at all; I'd visited the mosque which was also red but not nearly so big or impressive. It was a really beautiful place to walk around - it'd have made a lovely picnic spot - but it took us a lot longer than we'd originally predicted (because it was based on my faulty memory).
Red Fort walls (they're huge!):
Inside the Red Fort:
'A Good Place to Picnic':
This wasn't a problem, as we felt that we'd achieved a lot, but it meant having to explain to our cycle rickshaw driver (cyclist?!) that we now needed to go to the train station. Here begins the only really frustrating part of the day:
The cycle-rickshaw guy asked if we wanted to go to the mosque; it was part of the tour that we'd initially agreed to. We said no very vehemently, but all too soon, I saw it looming up ahead of us. We got off the rickshaw and paid him his 200rupees, because we now needed an autorickshaw to get us to the station. He insisted that we had to pay him an extra 50rupee tip, so we did, and then dashed across the road to the only tuktuk in sight. He agreed to take us to the station, and in our hurry, we didn't agree a price. Big mistake. And one that we'd never make at home in Pune. Anyway, he had to check 2 or 3 times WHICH station we wanted to go to; resulting in my pulling out the map we'd photocopied from the lonely planet and showing him EXACTLY where we wanted to go. Satisfied we were on the right track, we then had to deal with more Delhi traffic. We drove past the station up a hill, guessing that we'd turn back on ourselves and go down the adjacent road. This was sort of correct - the driver stopped, and told us to walk. It was probably 500metres or so, but it was also about 3 minutes until our train was scheduled to leave. The driver was also insisting on a price of 300rupees because he was now stuck in the traffic, and this was an extortionate amount of money. He knew we were foreigners in a hurry and would get his money though, so I angrily thrust it at him, and we half jogged, half ran into the station, up the steps and down onto the next platform, and then onto the train. Which started moving just as we found our seats and started negotiating with the people already sitting in them. So that was fun!
The train journey was pretty boring really. We met a strange Russian girl who didn't seem very prepared (she asked about our hotel/ rickshaw plans once we got to Agra, and also then asked some foreigners in the next compartment), read our books, and played boxes, to the amusement of a man opposite who watched with interest and occasionally pointed out a possible move to Jessica, who lost. It was dark so there wasn't much to be seen out of the windows, and time passed quite slowly.
We'd arranged with the hotel in Agra to be met at the station as well. This time, it was a rickshaw driver. He smiled and shook both our hands, led us to his rickshaw, and then demonstrated excellent English as he explained the reason his rickshaw wouldn't start up was that it had got too cold! It ran eventually though, and he drove us, chatting and laughing all the way, through the winding streets of Agra, past a Muslim wedding procession complete with bridge in a carriage and trumpets and fairy lights, and safely to the hotel which was another familiar site to me. I was relieved about this, as I'd only guessed at the name of the hotel I used last time, based on options in the Lonely Planet! Our rickshaw driver - who we later discovered was called Manish - showed us a map of the city, warned us about the hawkers that were everywhere in the area, encouraged us to get up early to see the Taj (as we'd planned) then come back for a shower and breakfast, before touring for the day. His English was encouraging and he was obviously used by the hotel a lot, so we agreed to engage his services. Having checked in, we dumped our stuff and proceeded to the restaurant for some much-needed grub. It was really tasty. Then we did some organising (which made our room look like a pigsty, but it was the first time we'd really had the chance to throw things around without being in a rush) and fell into bed - this time under a lovely, thick quilt (or perhaps what Jessica would call a comforter - I learnt what one of those is this week!).
We woke up at 5:30 am, shivering and tired, and wondering why on earth we'd thought it'd be a good idea to wear saris as they take longer to put on than normal clothes. This wonderment continued when we realised that we'd both forgotten to bring safety pins - which are essential in holding the puloo in place. Drat. We'd both told ourselves to remember them, and had failed. Luckily, however, I had decided to take a LOT of harigrips (bobby pins) with me, and so we worked out a way to use these instead! Properly dressed, we threw warm jumpers over the top, and headed for the Taj. The gate was only a couple of minutes away, and we joined the queue of foreigners lining up for tickets, collecting their shoe covers, and then lining up to enter the Taj complex. It was cold, but not freezing as we'd thought it might have been which was good.
We decided to go ahead and take the obligatory beautiful photos of us in our saris before loads and loads of people got in the way, so headed to the raised platform by the pools, and took photos of each other, before asking a friendly french couple to take some shots of the 2 of us together. They laughed at us shivering without our jumpers on, but obliged, and then we took some shots for them, too. We continued on our explorations, taking photographs, and generally being ignored by people, although a few of the Indians looked quite amused that we were in saris. One woman asked to have her photo taken with us, but that was all. Much better than in some places. We were there until the sun came up and lit the mausoleum, and then we headed back to the hotel for breakfast. Jessica's cornflakes never turned up which was a little disappointing, but otherwise it was good. We had hot chocolates to warm our icy hands :)
Touristy shot with saris:
Friendly French couple who took the above photograph:
Saris and Shoe covers - classy!:
Jessica and some other tourists getting the 'reflection shot':
We had some time to wash our hair (we just about managed to get hot water in the bucket) and re-pack everything, walk back towards a different gate of the taj to find an atm, and then pay our bill. Manish appeared and we hopped in his rickshaw, ready for what the day would bring. He first drove us to the fort, and when he pulled over, we quizzed him on the plan for the day and how much it would cost us - having learnt from the previous night. He looked genuinely hurt that we'd asked and insisted that at the end of the day, we should pay 'what we felt was right in our hearts'. He also gave us just enough information about the fort for us to not need to consider hiring a guide, and to find our way around it easily. We marched off excitedly while he parked up on the side of the road, happy for us to spend 'hours' there if we so desired.
Jess and I are pretty quick tourists though; we'd practised well in our rushed day in Delhi. We were probably at the fort for 45minutes or so. We enjoyed the sights over the river towards the Taj Mahal, we marvelled at the architecture, we argued with a woman who wanted 'baksheesh' for 'guarding' our shoes when we went in the mosque. It was great. Then we returned to Manish, and he took us to the 'Baby Taj'. Similar story - lots of wandering, lots of photography. We also stopped for what we felt was a much needed and deserved Dairy Milk break; sitting on the edge of the old gutters in the floor. Geoffrey popped his head out to be photographed, and we just sat and chilled for a bit because it was a lovely day, a lovely location, and nice to feel like we actually had time to relax for a few minutes, and not have to rush off to the next thing straight away.
Jessica's new angle at the fort:
Taj Mahal across the river:
Fort walls (not quite as impressive as Red Fort, but pretty cool):
Baby Taj:
Geoffrey with detail of Baby Taj:
Jessica enjoying the sunshine:
The next stop was Mehtab Bagh - the gardens opposite the Taj Mahal across the river. It's very orderly, and the lines of trees reminded me of going to pick-your-own apple orchards with the grandparents at home. We amused ourselves taking touristy photos of Jess with the Taj in the background, and then decided we'd have another break - this one involving the kitkats that Steph had kindly supplied us with before we left. It was definitely lunchtime by this point, and so Manish asked us what kind of food we'd like to eat. We told him we'd eat anything if it was reasonably priced; he asked us if we'd like a garden restaurant. Intrigued, we nodded our heads and allowed him to take us to his restaurant of choice.
Jessica 'stroking' the Taj (thanks to my wonky photography, it looks like she's pushing it over):
Geoffrey's Break:
The restaurant was hidden down a little alley, behind the shops on the main street. It looked like it was family-run out of their own kitchen, and it was lovely. A big, open garden space with tables and chairs, and also an inside bit, apparently with internet access. Manish said that in the warm weather, it's very popular at night because you can dine under the stars! He sat and chatted with us until the food came, then tactfully disappeared while we ate. It was really yummy, but there was so much of it that we didn't really feel we'd made a dent. This has been the one difficulty with ordering food when we go out - we usually ask for a similar menu, but portion sizes vary hugely!
The restaurant:
After lunch, it was shopping time! We were in the handicrafts area, and Manish took us to a variety. We were aware that he'd be getting commission if we bought things, but didn't mind at all, and every place he took us to took the time to really explain the processes to us and chat with us, before trying to sell us things. First up was marble. We got to see how the stones are hand-ground to fit, the hardness of the glue they use, and to learn a bit about the history. We explored the shop - which was filled with beautiful things - and each bought a couple of magnets, as they were lovely and we figured they'd probably stand a fair chance of surviving in our bags on the journey home. Next was a fabric shop; Jessica fell in love with a bedspread and we spent a long time debating whether it was worth the money... it came home with us. Then there was a jewellery shop where we got to see all the pretty Agra/India specific stones - like the star ruby; of which I bought Izi a set of earrings during my last trip for her 18th birthday. Very expensive stuff, but very pretty.
Finally, we went to a carpet factory. This was really interesting - the manager who showed us around let us see every stage, from the men in the office painstakingly drawing and painting designs onto squared paper, to the actual weaving process, through washing, trimming and finishing. We were offered (and accepted) chai, and then sat back as beautiful carpets of differing sizes and designs were rolled out in front of us. It really was quite a show; at one point he sounded like he was recording a tv commercial. We explained that we were students and didn't really have anywhere to put a carpet right now, so he showed us 'student sized' carpets, which were square wall hangings. They were lovely, but also made of silk, so the price was not so student friendly. We got the impression, though, that the manager hadn't really expected us to buy his big expensive rugs, and was just enjoying showing us, so we didn't feel too guilty.
Carpet design:
Weaving:
When we left, we had about 30minutes to spare before we needed to be at the train station. We asked Manish to find us an internet cafe so we could check if we had confirmed seat numbers, and happily, discovered that we did. He then took us back to the garden restaurant for chai - which he either got for free or treated us to, before taking us to the station. At the restaurant, he chatted to us about his family, the importance of work, and then philosophised about love, true love, marriage, divorce etc. It was really interesting, but pretty random! He also asked us to write in his book, and brought out a notebook that was filled with messages of thanks - in many languages - from previous tourists he'd taken on tours. We wrote a message in both English and French as he like collecting the languages, and then got back in the rickshaw for the last stretch of the journey.
Manish (the best rickshaw driver in Agra):
When we arrived at the station, we had to pay Manish. We'd been debating about this a lot, because whilst it was lovely of him to say that we could pay whatever, my experience of this statement in India was that it actually meant 'pay whatever, as long as it's equal to or more than what I want', and even if he really didn't mind what we paid, we didn't want to short-change him, as he'd been a truly excellent driver and guide. We'd both come up with the figure of 1,500; and we took that as a 'sign from our hearts' - plus I had a vague recollection of paying 1000 for a day's rickshaw the last time I was here. So this was what we did. As we got out of the rickshaw, he shook both our hands, and I passed over the money. He didn't even look at it, but just put it in his pocket. Which proved to me that he was as honest as we'd considered him to be. He walked us in to the station, checked which platform we needed, shook our hands once more and said goodbye.
The first thing we did was check the chart to confirm that our names were on it. We took a photo as we'd forgotten to print a new ticket with the updated information on it (previously our tickets had been waitlisted, then RAC 'Reserved Against Cancellation', so our seat numbers weren't on our copy). Then we headed for the toilets, so that we could put all our clothes on! We were expecting the night-time train ride to be a wee bit nippy, and so resolved to add a couple of tshirts under what we were currently wearing. This was tricky, because the toilets were Indian and not at all clean, so there was a lot of balancing on shoes and hanging jumpers off shoulders while we dressed. But we managed. Now feeling quite warm, we wandered along the station to buy some crisps and drinks for the journey, before picking a spot to plonk ourselves, and plonking!
Charted!:
The train that came in wasn't labelled with the name we'd expected it to be, but all the signs said it was our train, so we started to walk towards our carriage - Sleeper 1, right at the back of the train - and found a conductor half-way down who confirmed that it was indeed our train. We clambered on to discover 4 men sitting on our berth - yes, just one between us - but they moved when we indicated that it was our number.
We decided to try and sleep pretty early on. We'd seen the sunset, and were knackered. The next few hours were spent with one or both of us dropping off intermittently, then waking up, re-shaping the jigsaw puzzle of knees and elbow and bags, and falling back to sleep. It wasn't comfortable, or particularly warm, but we did get some sleep.
I should probably mention that we'd deliberately decided to fly up and get the train back down, because we decided a 22hour overnight train was something we just had to do. I think in the night we both had moments where we regretted that decision, but overall I'm glad we did it. The train woke up at around 730, and we stopped for quite a long time at one station so people could hop off and get something to eat; a lot of people were using the sink right by our berth to brush their teeth etc. As the day warmed up, we both ventured to the toilet to remove all the layers we'd put on the night before, and then settled down to enjoy the rest of the trip. There was a large group of men in the berths next to and above us; we're not sure whether they knew each other before the journey or not as they seemed to be a pretty diverse bunch, but they were happy and chatting and sharing lots of food, and I got the distinct impression that they were quite amused by the two white girls who didn't have warm blankets in the night. But they didn't bother us at all.
Geoffrey on the train:
We read, we chatted, we watched for station names out of the window to try and work out where we were. We bought chai and soup and biryani, we ate the last of the kitkats and we took photographs out of the window. We listened to music - sometimes on Jessica's ipod, sometimes it was the Justin Bieber someone was blasting out of their phone. We had a conversation with a guy who was hanging out of the door and looking in our window, and we avoided the gaze of the man in the red vest who'd spent every waking minute staring in our direction. It was great fun.
When we finally got into Pune (and were feeling proud of ourselves for recognising it), the train stopped. For 20minutes. To refuel. It was so frustrating. We were home, but we weren't. A couple of men hopped off the train and walked, and we debated doing the same, but considering we didn't actually know how far away the station was, we thought that would be a silly plan. When the train got moving, it was only a couple of minutes before we pulled into the platform. We weaved through the throng of people trying to get on the train (making us doubly glad we were off it), argued about prices with a couple of rickshaw drivers, and then headed for home.
It was great how much like home the streets of Pune felt. The busy traffic didn't seem busy at all compared to Delhi, the dirt was less than in Agra. And we recognised the types of people, the number plates had the right prefixes, the bridges and temples we passed were familiar. We were home.
The trip was truly, truly awesome. I'm really glad that we had the opportunity to do it, and did it. I'm glad that Jessica and I get on so well and had a super time together. I'm glad that I saw and did some different things, and enjoyed things I'd done before in a different way. It was knackering, but worth it. We slept well that night, after a yummy dinner of tacos, and then returned to the world of work.
TTFN
No comments:
Post a Comment
Leave me a message if you'd like to comment, ask questions or just say hi! Thanks x