Agra and the Taj Mahal

Now I was really looking forward to this as we would be getting back into the land of tourism which generally means availability of most kinds of food and should we need a leg stretch, sugar hit stop at a roadside P, we wouldn’t necessarily be surrounded by 40 locals for the fishbowl effect/freak show.

Since we left southern India where I guess they are far more used to western tourists, we have been plagued by inquisitive people every time we need to stop for a rest, speaking from a woman’s point of view this can be pretty intimidating as these guys are blown away by the bikes let alone a woman on a bike and they tend to surround me and my bike with inches to spare and stare directly at me the entire time we are stopped, if I try and communicate with them (most don’t speak any English apart from “hello” in the rural areas) by smiling or gesticulating I receive maybe one or two reciprocating greetings or they cross their arms and stare even more fervently, which as you can imagine is rather off-putting. 

What I wasn’t ready for, on reaching Agra, was the overwhelming disappointment brought on by the inflated prices within the city, (mostly of beer) our reserved hotel room, 3 days notice given, being fully booked and then to top it all off, being incensed about paying the racist Taj entrance fee of Indians Rs20, (about 30p) all others Rs750 (about £10, this is not uncommon throughout India) especially when the ticket collector was so blatantly rude.

The whole experience was a bit rubbish so I took a few shots of the palace from one of the rip-off

roof-top restaurants, had the worst meal yet (Indian) in another restaurant boasting the best food in Agra and consequently got outta there nice and early the following morning for Delhi. What really put the icing on the cake was getting knocked off my bike, again, this time on a dual carriageway by another motorcycle.