Journey through Rajasthan – Delhi to Agra

My journey begins in Delhi. The place is an assault on my senses. A cacophony of honking horns assaults my eardrums as I wander the city streets. A woman swathed in a vibrantly coloured sari drifts past me grasping a child’s hand. A dirt haze floats through the air that invades my nasal passages. There is an endless sea of humanity and I brush shoulders with people as I wend my way through the throng. I notice curious looks as I walk through the city and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m a foreigner or that I’m alone with no husband in sight. I feel a tug on the hem of my shirt and see a child holding out his hand for rupees. It feels cruel to say “No” and continue on, but I’ve been told by several people to not give money.

I’m off to Agra in the morning and I’m taking India’s best mode of transportation: the train. You should be prepared for it to run late, or maybe on time. You may share a cabin with a family and their livestock, or you may have an air-conditioned car to yourself. If you’ve been eating the local curry, you may experience the “toilet” (more on my experience with that later). Basically, be prepared for everything and anything! I introduce myself to the locals that share the rail car with me and I swap a protein bar for a sweet Indian delicacy. Judging by the grimace a young man makes after the first bite, it probably wasn’t a fair trade. The women seem more at ease and allow me to take photos of themselves and their children. A distinguished looking man with a large, white handlebar mustache catches my eye and after pointing at my camera and them to him, he nods. He quickly grooms himself, straightens his toque and adopts a regal pose. Afterwards, I show him his image on the screen of my camera and he breaks into a huge grin. He seems impressed with his dashing good looks. A group of young men become curious and when I show them their images, they’re suitably impressed with their handsomeness.

The toilet situation on India’s trains requires a strong core for balance. On a side note: when traveling, I swear by the Coke-a-day rule to prevent stomach issues. I’ve been doing this for over 20 years and it hasn’t failed me yet. There’s something in Coke that eats all the shit in your stomach and no Immodium tablets required. But back to the toilet situation. I slide open the door and spy a hole in the floor with a plastic pail filled with water and a metal dipper beside it. Luckily I’ve brought my stash of toilet paper as I haven’t assimilated so much that I’m quite ready to use my left hand for that purpose. Looking down the hole, I see the tracks rushing past in a silvery blur. Time to shit or get off the pot. I brace myself with one hand, hold onto my pants with the other and squat over the hole. I so got this. Until the train rounds a bend and I do a header into the wall in front of me…with my pants around my ankles. Pretty sure I’ve urinated on my flip flops, which essentially means on my feet (awesome), and I’ve dropped my wad of toilet paper down the effing hole. Now what? Adopt local practices and carry on.

The train arrives in Agra and I’m set to explore The Taj Mahal; a 17th century wonder of the world. You can’t truly experience the grandeur of it until you see it in person. How could they have possibly constructed this asymmetrical beauty without modern technology? It’s mind-blowing. Every stone is perfectly cut and fitted within each other. Standing beside it I feel dwarfed by it’s immense size. White stone walls soar above me and are cool to the touch despite the stifling heat and humidity. The late afternoon sun gives the aura that The Taj is glowing. Despite all the visitors, it’s peaceful. As I’m sitting beside the water feature in front of The Taj, a gentleman approaches me. He doesn’t speak English, but points at the water and then at The Taj repeatedly. I’m gazing cluelessly at him until I realize what he’s pointing at in the water. A perfect reflection of Taj Mahal. Sublime.

Next stop Jaipur and Jaisalmer….