Untitled Document

AGRA

Shah Jehan had the standard number of 4 wives and n concubines, but Mahal was his favourite. She only left his side to bear him 13 children. She died bearing the 14th but on her deathbed asked him
1 to build a memorial to her
2 not to remarry
3 to sort out their argumentative sons.

He scored two out of three. Taj Mahal, the Palace of Mahal, Mahal, the jewel of the court, the palace of the Jewel. She got the most wonderful memorial. Sparkling white marble, it is much bigger than I expected. Beautiful proportioned. The majority of the decorations are relief's cut into the marble. He did not use precious stones, anticipating the British Army. Built of the banks of the river Yamua he calculated possible flood levels accurately for 400 years. Rivers in India move, but a wall on the far bank ensures the Taj stays on the river bank. The entrances are decorated in prayers from the Koran. The size of the script increases with wall height so it all appears even. The setting in three gardens with a rectangular lake is heavenly. Sitting and contemplating is a most uplifting experience. The paint throwing delay means that Rik has no time to take the party to the Red Fort but can still make it to the marble selling emporium. Ah the power of commission. They do make some beautiful stuff, an employee demonstrating semi precious stone making smuggles me a small heart but the shop does OK because we buy three items. We bid the party farewell and start on our 7 day time out. Rik has stressed that 1 day is more than sufficient for Agra.
Its Tuesday, Steve and Karen are not expected until Friday we dine on the hotel's poor international; buffet and watch old movies. Meg's bed has been too hard so we swap. Mossi nets are superfluous to requirements. Breakfast is better but not really up to exploitation due to the fact that we are making an early start walking to the Red Fort that Rik considered hardly worth a visit. The fact that we intend to walk is beyond the comprehension of the rickshaw, mororised rickshaw and taxi drivers who kerb crawl alongside us for the entire two miles. To be honest though the walk is easy it is also quite unpleasant. We pass an arid golf course en route.
Rik was in error! The Red Fort is massive and magnificent. Kilometres of double and treble sandstone fortifications protect a series of marble temples recessed and inlaid extravagantly, but the result is elegant rather than baroque. There is a courtyard in which they used to fish in ponds and canals. Another paved in octagonal marble on which the Shah played a board game using dancing girls as pieces. A monkey tries to snatch my carrier bag. The only attempt to rob us so far. The area facing the Taj Mahal is where Shah Jehan was imprisoned for the last year of his life by his youngest son after he had killed all his elder brothers. Keeping a careful eye out for monkeys we meet three Indian lads who want their photo taken with Meg. We evade the disbelieving rickshaws and stroll back through the park. The Mugal restaurant in the Clark-Shiraz is one of Agra's finest, on the only rooftop with a view of the Taj. However as they do not floodlight the Taj it is only visible in daylight. The standard is good but I still cannot appreciate it, expensive too.
Meg wants a 04-45 call to go and see the Taj at dawn. We auto rickshaw down and join the handful of humanity queuing at the entrance.
It is simply magic. One of the things you must do if at all possible.
We rickshaw round the bazaars and probably make our driver deliriously happy by buying Meg a star ruby pendant. The star ruby is a stone only produced in this part of the world. In light a bright pinprick of star like light glows inside it.
We take a put put to Itmah-Ud-Daulah the tomb of Mirza Beg and designed by his daughter who later was the most powerful woman in Mogul history. She did a good job and its style and elegance would be far better known if it were somewhere other than up stream of the Taj Mahal. In fact I remember the journey to it more than the tomb itself. The put put speeds along unmade roads generating clouds of red dust. We cross the river Yamuna by a single track bridge several hundred yards long exactly how the priority is determined remains a mystery. We cut swathes through the population but give way to the animals. It is the nearest thing to a James Bond chase we have ever experienced.
We loaf around the pool after lunch chatting to other tourists when suddenly Karen and Steve appear one day early.
We seriously disturb the peace of the sunbathers with our exuberant greetings. They look very fit but apart from that, exactly as they did when they set off on their honeymoon in September last year. The news flows thick and fast in disjointed and soon forgotten fragments. We will take it all in at our leisure later. In our room we consume the beers acquired for the occasion and realise we will have to rise early to visit the Taj at dawn again tomorrow. We stroll the 100 metres to the local restaurant. Saleem a rickshaw driver tracks us all the way and asks if he can drive us though the gate as the restaurant will give him a free drink. I suspect they will give him free meals for a week. Which as it happens is more than they will give us because they are full. They park us in the garden for ten minutes where we feed the mosquitoes until a table comes free. Between the 5 power cuts we have a good meal costing 860 for 4 which is a big improvement on the 1700 for 2 we paid last night.
We are rickshawed to the Taj and repeat most of yesterday's photographs. You can put a rose on Mahal's tomb for the one you love. Standing by the wall overlooking the river we see a procession approaching involving a highly decorated elephant. It is one of Bollywood's 1000 a year films in the making. We rick to the Red Fort and do that again. Karen and Steve, jammy buggers have chosen the day when both are free. Several Indians want their photo taken with Kaz. The rickshaws are expensive especially when you consider that I had to get out and walk up the hills. . Saleem will be displeased; he did not come this afternoon. Steve explains the driver's persistence with us. By carrying locals they can make 5 annas, they can charge us 10 times that but that is chicken feed. If they take us to a restaurant they get a meal, if they take us to a shop they get a hand out, if we buy something really expensive they get commission. We are walking lottery tickets. We lunch at S&K's Agra Inn on a terrace overlooking a garden I find the food delicious. Perhaps it is the company or euphoria about the end of the dihorrea. The manager is perplexed. If we are really rich enough to stay at the Clark-Shiraz we would not allow our children to stay at his hotel. If we can afford to eat at the Clark-Shiraz why are we eating at his? We explain that we like his food; it is more interesting and tastier than the C-S. He walks away shaking his head. Karen shows us their room and I understand his paradox. We lend them our mosquito net. Steve wants to visit a recommended veggie restaurant called Zorba the Buddha. The put put driver says it is closed. Our book says it is open. He tells us no tourists go there. We tell him we are going there. He tells us the food is bad. He tells us they don't sell alcohol. We realise they don't give free meals to rickshaw drivers. He takes us. Zorbas is sparklingly clean and the food very tasty. 640 for 4. A day of rest by the pool is cancelled due to light rain and becomes a half day of rest in our room watching sky movies and sport, reminiscing and dozing.
Steve has arranged a taxi to Fatehpur Sikri. Once again the journey is fascinating. Lots of animals, lots of people sitting around, storks in the fields. Fatehpur Sikri was built by Akbar a little earlier than the Taj, mainly in sandstone. Akbar made a game try to unite the religions. He took 4 wives, 2 Moslem 1 Hindu and 1 Christian. All 4 have separate palaces. which are decorated with three out of four symbols. Moslem, Hindu, Christian and Buddhist. Very laudable attempt doomed to failure by too many vested interests. The palaces were extensive and worth suffering the incessant peddling, they are desperate to turn over stock. 1 Knife 200 becomes 3 for 50 very quickly. We area very poor market. Lunch at the Akbar is just as good as before; the chat is aimlessly pleasurable before the cheapest meal yet at the Kwalite. 510 for 4.
He also played ludo with concubines. A marble screen is the finest we have seen; people tie coloured threads to it and make a wish. A parrot and an elephant have their own tombs. The elephant used to trample to death unsuccessful appellants in the hall of public audiences. Here symmetry is not the order. The palace of the winds is 5 storeys high and built like a wedding cake. , each layer is decorated with different style columns. We lunch on the terrace of the Akbar and dine for 500 at the Kwality.

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AGRA Shah Jehan had the standard number of 4 wives and n concubines, but Mahal was his favourite. She only left his side to bear him 13 children. She died bearing the 14th but on her deathbed asked him 1 to build a memorial to her 2 not to remarry 3 to sort out their argumentative sons. He scored two out of three. Taj Mahal, the Palace of Mahal, Mahal, the jewel of the court, the palace of the Jewel. She got the most wonderful memorial. Sparkling white marble, it is much bigger than I expected. Beautiful proportioned. The majority of the decorations are relief's cut into the marble. He did not use precious stones, anticipating the British Army. Built of the banks of the river Yamua he calculated possible flood levels accurately for 400 years. Rivers in India move, but a wall on the far bank ensures the Taj stays on the river bank. The entrances are decorated in prayers from the Koran. The size of the script increases with wall height so it all appears even. The setting in three gardens with a rectangular lake is heavenly. Sitting and contemplating is a most uplifting experience. The paint throwing delay means that Rik has no time to take the party to the Red Fort but can still make it to the marble selling emporium. Ah the power of commission. They do make some beautiful stuff, an employee demonstrating semi precious stone making smuggles me a small heart but the shop does OK because we buy three items. We bid the party farewell and start on our 7 day time out. Rik has stressed that 1 day is more than sufficient for Agra. Its Tuesday, Steve and Karen are not expected until Friday we dine on the hotel's poor international; buffet and watch old movies. Meg's bed has been too hard so we swap. Mossi nets are superfluous to requirements. Breakfast is better but not really up to exploitation due to the fact that we are making an early start walking to the Red Fort that Rik considered hardly worth a visit. The fact that we intend to walk is beyond the comprehension of the rickshaw, mororised rickshaw and taxi drivers who kerb crawl alongside us for the entire two miles. To be honest though the walk is easy it is also quite unpleasant. We pass an arid golf course en route. Rik was in error! The Red Fort is massive and magnificent. Kilometres of double and treble sandstone fortifications protect a series of marble temples recessed and inlaid extravagantly, but the result is elegant rather than baroque. There is a courtyard in which they used to fish in ponds and canals. Another paved in octagonal marble on which the Shah played a board game using dancing girls as pieces. A monkey tries to snatch my carrier bag. The only attempt to rob us so far. The area facing the Taj Mahal is where Shah Jehan was imprisoned for the last year of his life by his youngest son after he had killed all his elder brothers. Keeping a careful eye out for monkeys we meet three Indian lads who want their photo taken with Meg. We evade the disbelieving rickshaws and stroll back through the park. The Mugal restaurant in the Clark-Shiraz is one of Agra's finest, on the only rooftop with a view of the Taj. However as they do not floodlight the Taj it is only visible in daylight. The standard is good but I still cannot appreciate it, expensive too. Meg wants a 04-45 call to go and see the Taj at dawn. We auto rickshaw down and join the handful of humanity queuing at the entrance. It is simply magic. One of the things you must do if at all possible. We rickshaw round the bazaars and probably make our driver deliriously happy by buying Meg a star ruby pendant. The star ruby is a stone only produced in this part of the world. In light a bright pinprick of star like light glows inside it. We take a put put to Itmah-Ud-Daulah the tomb of Mirza Beg and designed by his daughter who later was the most powerful woman in Mogul history. She did a good job and its style and elegance would be far better known if it were somewhere other than up stream of the Taj Mahal. In fact I remember the journey to it more than the tomb itself. The put put speeds along unmade roads generating clouds of red dust. We cross the river Yamuna by a single track bridge several hundred yards long exactly how the priority is determined remains a mystery. We cut swathes through the population but give way to the animals. It is the nearest thing to a James Bond chase we have ever experienced. We loaf around the pool after lunch chatting to other tourists when suddenly Karen and Steve appear one day early. We seriously disturb the peace of the sunbathers with our exuberant greetings. They look very fit but apart from that, exactly as they did when they set off on their honeymoon in September last year. The news flows thick and fast in disjointed and soon forgotten fragments. We will take it all in at our leisure later. In our room we consume the beers acquired for the occasion and realise we will have to rise early to visit the Taj at dawn again tomorrow. We stroll the 100 metres to the local restaurant. Saleem a rickshaw driver tracks us all the way and asks if he can drive us though the gate as the restaurant will give him a free drink. I suspect they will give him free meals for a week. Which as it happens is more than they will give us because they are full. They park us in the garden for ten minutes where we feed the mosquitoes until a table comes free. Between the 5 power cuts we have a good meal costing 860 for 4 which is a big improvement on the 1700 for 2 we paid last night. We are rickshawed to the Taj and repeat most of yesterday's photographs. You can put a rose on Mahal's tomb for the one you love. Standing by the wall overlooking the river we see a procession approaching involving a highly decorated elephant. It is one of Bollywood's 1000 a year films in the making. We rick to the Red Fort and do that again. Karen and Steve, jammy buggers have chosen the day when both are free. Several Indians want their photo taken with Kaz. The rickshaws are expensive especially when you consider that I had to get out and walk up the hills. . Saleem will be displeased; he did not come this afternoon. Steve explains the driver's persistence with us. By carrying locals they can make 5 annas, they can charge us 10 times that but that is chicken feed. If they take us to a restaurant they get a meal, if they take us to a shop they get a hand out, if we buy something really expensive they get commission. We are walking lottery tickets. We lunch at S&K's Agra Inn on a terrace overlooking a garden I find the food delicious. Perhaps it is the company or euphoria about the end of the dihorrea. The manager is perplexed. If we are really rich enough to stay at the Clark-Shiraz we would not allow our children to stay at his hotel. If we can afford to eat at the Clark-Shiraz why are we eating at his? We explain that we like his food; it is more interesting and tastier than the C-S. He walks away shaking his head. Karen shows us their room and I understand his paradox. We lend them our mosquito net. Steve wants to visit a recommended veggie restaurant called Zorba the Buddha. The put put driver says it is closed. Our book says it is open. He tells us no tourists go there. We tell him we are going there. He tells us the food is bad. He tells us they don't sell alcohol. We realise they don't give free meals to rickshaw drivers. He takes us. Zorbas is sparklingly clean and the food very tasty. 640 for 4. A day of rest by the pool is cancelled due to light rain and becomes a half day of rest in our room watching sky movies and sport, reminiscing and dozing. Steve has arranged a taxi to Fatehpur Sikri. Once again the journey is fascinating. Lots of animals, lots of people sitting around, storks in the fields. Fatehpur Sikri was built by Akbar a little earlier than the Taj, mainly in sandstone. Akbar made a game try to unite the religions. He took 4 wives, 2 Moslem 1 Hindu and 1 Christian. All 4 have separate palaces. which are decorated with three out of four symbols. Moslem, Hindu, Christian and Buddhist. Very laudable attempt doomed to failure by too many vested interests. The palaces were extensive and worth suffering the incessant peddling, they are desperate to turn over stock. 1 Knife 200 becomes 3 for 50 very quickly. We area very poor market. Lunch at the Akbar is just as good as before; the chat is aimlessly pleasurable before the cheapest meal yet at the Kwalite. 510 for 4. He also played ludo with concubines. A marble screen is the finest we have seen; people tie coloured threads to it and make a wish. A parrot and an elephant have their own tombs. The elephant used to trample to death unsuccessful appellants in the hall of public audiences. Here symmetry is not the order. The palace of the winds is 5 storeys high and built like a wedding cake. , each layer is decorated with different style columns. We lunch on the terrace of the Akbar and dine for 500 at the Kwality. Back to India Back to Departures
	"Build me a memorial, do not re marry and sort out our argumentative sons"




	Another paved in octagonal marble on which the Shah played a board game using dancing girls as pieces.