9th February
My parents had arrived from England that morning, joining us for a two-week jaunt through Rajasthan, so we packed up and took the metro towards Lutyens Bungalow, where we would be staying with them for our final night in Delhi. They had only a day to squeeze in the Delhi highlights, so after a quick breakfast we were picked up by a car and guide to drive them around for the day. We decided to accompany my parents for the first few stops (which we hadn't yet seen) before heading back into the centre of town for lunch with Clem's cousin, Matthieu, who was studying at Ahmedabad for several months.
First on the whirlwind tour was Rashtrapati Bhavan, the huge residence of the Indian president, built by the British in around 1930 but only fleetingly enjoyed before being handed over following Independence. We then stopped off at India Gate, a large archway erected by the British in memory of the thousands of Indian soldiers who died in the First World War. Underneath the arch a flame burns as a memorial to more recent casualties.
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| Rashtrapati Bhavan |
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| Fire! |
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| Monkeys at the gate |
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| India Gate |
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| Team photo |
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| A more recent memorial |
Next came Qutab Minar, where we sat outside for half an hour to enjoy the sunshine while my parents were whisked around inside the complex. Then we headed to the Bahai House of Worship, more commonly known as the Lotus Temple due to its eye-catching shape, which was built in 1986. We took off our shoes at the entrance and were led by the guide towards the temple. We were lined up outside and, while a couple of over-excited young Indian men giggled next to us, received a quick briefing about the Bahai philosophy, which welcomes everyone but requires silent contemplation inside the temple. We walked quietly into the temple and sat down on the quite marble pews (probably wonderfully cool in the summer but uncomfortably so in the winter). After a few minutes of silence, interrupted briefly by the giggling morons behind us, we headed back out into the sunshine.
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| Trying to blend in? |
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| The Lotus Temple |
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| The temple's swimming pool, no? |
We were then left at the metro station, as my parents sped off to rattle around Humayun's Tomb, Red Fort, Jamma Masjid, and Raj Ghat. We took the train up to Connaught Place, where we met Matthieu and two of his fellow students, both French, for lunch. The place we'd picked out from the LP had disappeared, but we managed to find somewhere decent. I'm sure Clem enjoyed the opportunity to have a proper conversation in French, and I managed to join in to the best of my limited ability. We'd all arrived in India in mid-December, so it was fun to compare our experiences and reactions so far. Their story of accepting a dinner invitation in Varanasi that eventually led them to the slums and an enraged and death-threatening local certainly trumped our most traumatic tales.
The French trio headed off to Humayun's Tomb, while Clem and I enjoyed a leisurely stroll around the more peaceful part of the city, near the Indian Museum (which was about to close, unfortunately), Rashtrapati Bhavan, and India Gate. The broad, straight boulevards lined with grass were vaguely reminiscent of Washington DC. We rejoined my parents at Lutyens Bungalow and had a very enjoyable dinner nearby. Then it was time for an early night, ready for the 6.15am train to Agra the next morning.
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10th February
We were picked up from the hotel at 5.30am, and arrived at the station in plenty of time for the train. Except that the train number was not on the board. To cut a long and painful story short, we fell for a scam (coordinated by at least five different people) that convinced us that the train had been cancelled. I blame the very early hour for suspending my distrust. The scam didn't actually make them any money (except for a small taxi fare perhaps), because we just called our tourist agency to arrange for a car, which picked us up only half an hour later. It didn't end up costing us anything other than a couple of hours, the price of the drive (thanks, parents), and some embarrassment (mostly on my part) and irritation. Apparently the train has a different name and number on Friday (when the Taj Mahal is closed) than on every other day, explaining why the number was not on the board. All rather ludicrous, and not a particularly pleasant welcome to India for my parents.
Anyway, after an entertaining three hour drive (past camels pulling huge and heavily laden wagons down the highway towards Delhi) we arrived in Agra and were dropped at our hotel, the Taj Resort. This was near the eastern gate of the Taj Mahal complex, and from the roof we could just about see the famous marble dome in the distance. We had a very quick lunch and then set off to explore.
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| First sight of the Taj Mahal from the terrace of our hotel |
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