A Lost Phone, A Cobra, A Giant Sundial, Oh My!

 The jeep ride down from the Amber Fort was as bumpy as it had been going up. It didn’t seem to take as long. Of course not, we were going downhill. Out of the jeep and on the way to our bus, I noticed a man sitting cross-legged on the ground, musical pipe in hand and a basket in front of him. My insides cringed. Please don’t be a snake in that basket. Please.

As we neared, sure enough, he took the lid off the basket and began to play. I scurried onto the bus. My one thing that will set me on edge is a snake. I can’t even watch them on TV or in the movies. My boys brought one home one time in a bucket, left it in the garage and warned me not to go out there. The warning was enough for me to know what they’d done. They were made to release it far away from the house.

Bob had stopped to watch and take a picture. I chastised myself for my phobia and decided to pull up my big girl pants and look. Of course one look at the iconic scene and I knew I needed a picture. I reached for my phone. Not in my pocket. Must be the purse. Not in the purse. On the seat? No. My heart began to beat faster. Now my purse is not that big but I tore through it as though I would find it in some corner. Heart beating even faster as Bob went to sit next to me. “I can’t find my phone!” I told him. That caught our guide’s ear. “Is your phone missing?”

“Yes,” I said. We tried locating it through FIndMe but Bob had his data roaming off. Once on again, we still couldn’t connect. We called my phone and it went to voice mail. Meanwhile someone had run to see if the jeep had left yet since I was sure that was the last place I had it. I don’t know what all transpired but through the Uniworld network of people there, they located the phone but the jeep had already gone back up the hill.

Vishal told me that the driver was very reliable and would have it to us at lunchtime. “We have good people and that is all we hire.”

I took a deep breath of relief and responded. “Thank you. I know you have good people and you take good care of us. That is why we travel with you.”

The only problem was the difficulty in getting my own pictures at our next stop. In Jaipur there is a huge outdoor area that has a giant sundial, very precise, and a calendar of sorts that is quite accurate. It is all tied to their astrology which we learned about in the shade thankfully as the plaza with the sundial was extremely hot.

In the shade of a covered area, the local guide, who was also an astrologer explained the planets and the moons and the heavenly bodies that ascended and descended and told anyone who wanted the information what their astrological sign was and how it applied to them. I passed. While some had fun with it, I preferred not to know. Living life with no expectations of who I should be according to the stars is fine with me. A few husbands did enjoy their wives being told that their signs meant they were bossy. *smile*

From the plaza, we went to a palace museum that housed various artifacts from the bygone days of the shahs. Some of the robes and dress were very interesting and I couldn’t help but note how heavy some were. How did they survive in the heat? Then I remembered our tour guide had said that it got quite cold in the winter here. We were at a bit of a higher elevation. The heavier robes might have been welcomed.

A few steps from the museum was a restaurant where we stopped for lunch. Almost the whole indoor area was reserved for us. We were on our own to order and purchase lunch. I had a bowl of a coconut thyme soup that turned out to be very delicious and not spicey. Bob had a club sandwich, a non-vegetarian club meaning it had chicken and even an egg.

I was beginning to wonder if my phone would show up. It was getting later and we were on our way back to the buses since we opted not to go to the shopping area. We had been informed that there would be no place on the rest of our journey to purchase souvenirs or jewelry items, etc. (Jaipur is known for their gems.) We a domestic flight facing us the next day and a weight limit on the luggage, we weren’t about to go shopping. Oh yes, and there was the heat of the afternoon to face.

Just as we were all seated on the bus, Vashil jumped on and with a big smile presented me my phone. I think my blood pressure dropped about as close as it ever gets to normal. I thanked him profusely.

We relaxed at the hotel for the afternoon and since we were on our own for dinner as well that night, we got there right when the restaurant opened. It was a nice evening and we were enticed to eat outside. There was only one other couple there so it wasn’t noisy with conversation and there was some interesting musicians who were playing and singing their hearts out. One on a drum and the other on some kind of hand pumped organ. A little later, two young girls, dressed in colorful traditional outfits, entertained with dance.

At one point, we realized we were the only ones there and the musicians were obviously playing to us. Suddenly I recognized the song. “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.” We clapped appropriately and the musicians grinned back at us. Later we would learn from our waiter that the Indian songs were all folk songs and mostly about love.

What an evening. Wonderful dinner. Lovely atmosphere. Friendly people. We could have lingered longer but there was a 4 am wakeup the next morning and we had to pack our bags for the trip to Kolkata and the Ganges Voyager II.

The Amber Fort And Palace

It was rise and shine for breakfast at seven and by eight o’clock we were on the buses and on our way to the Amber Fort in Jaipur. It’s always hard to tell distances because you can’t calculate traffic but I think it was about forty-five minutes to get to the fort. Along the way we saw a few interesting things like motorcycles loaded to the hilt with I don’t know what. Perhaps vendors on their way to shops? Lots of cows, some almost grouped enough to be a herd. A beautiful white temple. A camel, just wandering like the cows.

And the landscape had changed. There were hills around us and up on the hilltop was the fort.

Of course the bus was not going to make that climb and we would soon discover why. We pulled into a parking lot full of jeeps that could carry four passengers in back and one in front next to the driver. Our bus group split up and loaded into the jeeps. We smiled at the other couple across from us. We didn’t need to say it. It was going to be quite an experience. You could feel it.

Our jeep driver hopped in and we were off. We passed through the small town and the honking horns and past the souvenir and fresh produce stands beginning to open for business. This early, they must have been expecting a good business from tourists. It was Friday after all and the weekend was beginning.

Soon the streets of the town began to get narrower and twist back and forth. We bounced around on the seats, holding on to the supports of the rooftop. The bus never could have made it through between buildings. The sides would have been scraped off.

Once off the jeeps, we entered the huge main courtyard area of the fort and immediately noticed the elephants coming in through the opposite gate. There was obviously another way up other than the jeeps. I’m so glad Uniworld chose the jeeps.

The inside of the fort walls showed the immensity of the place. The structure dates back to the 16^th century. Dating these structures always amazes me when I realize they have designed and built them without all of our modern devices including any computer generated plans.

There was a ramp up to the next level of the fort and a giant plaza. At one end was a pillared area that I believe is called the Hall of Public Audience. Here is where the king would sit and listen to the queries of common men.

It was difficult to pay attention to the commentary of our guide because I was so distracted by the activity around us. There were countless bridal couples accompanied by a company of photographers and their assistants posing their subjects in flattering places around us. As we went to take a picture looking down from the fort, we had to wind our way around the couples and try carefully not to get into their photo shot. Okay, maybe it was just a little tempting to photo bomb one or two.

The dresses and the young women in them were beautiful. The men handsome and smart looking in their bridal suits. Some of the dresses were white, others were very colorful shades of blue, pink, mauve, etc. Many sparkled with shiny beads that reflected the sun. Our guide said couples would travel miles to come and have their time of photographing their special occasion.

We moved on to the Mirror Palace. This was truly spectacular. The details in the walls were delightful to look at. The story is that one of the king’s (or shah’s) wives wanted to sleep out under the stars but it wasn’t appropriate for a woman to do so. To satisfy her, the king commissioned builders to design the mirrored walls so at night the mirrors would catch the moonlight and appear to be stars sparkling in the sky. Sounds very romantic.

At one vantage point we were able to look over the side and see the elephants coming up the long trail from below with people riding on top. It reminded me of the steep trail the mules or donkeys follow in Santorini to get from the beach landing area to the town above.

We went up another level. More vistas. More bridal couples.

The area that housed the twelve wives was absolutely magnificent. The king must have treated them well. He would have to in order to keep that many women happy I suppose. The women were all housed on the lower level and each of their rooms could be accessed by the king but none of the women were allowed to ascend to his quarters. (As an aside, I could imagine a great plot for a story there but that’s for another time.)

Again, the intricacies of the sculpting and carving in the walls was a pleasure to explore with your eyes. From the walkway past the rooms, you could look down into the serene lovely and peaceful garden being attended to by a lady in a bright red sari.

More vistas from the very top and we were done. We made our way down. I began to notice how much the temperature was climbing. Our next stop was going to be hot, very hot. I hoped I was up to it.

Off To Jaipur

Sunrise at the Taj Mahal was followed by breakfast at the hotel. The breakfast buffets so far have been absolutely wonderful. Lots of fresh fruit, cereals, choices of milk, a hot breakfast menu with eggs, waffles, pancakes, and of course for the adventurous with the iron stomach, Indian dishes.

An optional excursion to a textile and marble mosaic place was offered after breakfast. I passed. I needed a respite from the heat of the last few days. Bob, the hot weather lover, decided to join the small group going. He said it was very interesting, especially the marble mosaics. They were extremely intricate as you can see in the picture of the little piece held in his hand. Somehow they were cutting them on some sort of wheel and then another person would set them into the design. 

Of course once they saw how everything was made, the shopping opportunity came. He would have loved to buy a little something, at least in the room where things were less expensive, but we had a domestic flight in a few days that had a weight limit for our luggage and we were already dangerously close to the limit. Now that's one way to keep from bringing home too many souvenirs.

Bags were outside the door around noon and we went down to lunch. Soon after, we collected our backpacks and joined our bus group for the trip to Jaipur. Now it's hard to take pictures from a moving bus through slightly tinted windows but when we slowed a bit by a garden, I had to try. There beside some trees were the usual three monkeys you see--hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil. But, there was on more. He was sitting with a cell phone in hand, scratching his head.

We passed several fruit stands on carts and we began to see more cows wandering--even on the highway! On the city streets, they tend to blend in but on the road, look out! You don't want to hit them. I think it has something to do with eternal damnation, or at least a huge fine. The cow represents Mother Earth and it is a source of goodness as its milk nourishes all creatures. We saw people feeding cows from their hands. Since they are sacred and a source of prosperity which I believe falls on you if you feed them. It also keeps them more nourished than rifling through the abundant trash piles for something to eat. The prosperity might befall those who sell the food to feed the cows.

Four hours or so of bone chilling traffic maneuvers with Honey expertly evading any potential collisions. Some of the trip was spent on an expressway of sorts but not as much it seemed as the day before. Lots of farmland once out of the crowded city but we realized that this drive and the one to Agra did not pass many homes. Where did the people who worked the fields come from? That was a question for another day.

Jaipur was much the same as Agra and New Delhi. Lots of traffic. Lots of people. Lots of shops, many on wheels. We passed a crowded market that extended for as far as you could see down one side road. A really nice looking building housed a secondary school but then we entered an area of makeshift shelters and run down buildings. To my surprise, our guide said we had arrived. Huh?

As the bus turned, I saw a nice red gate with a security officer who stopped us and checked out the underside of the bus with a mirrored stick before opening the gate to let us in. What was behind that gate was another beautiful Oberoi hotel. I've decided that I will dedicate a special post to our hotel experiences later. They were fantastic.

We had just about enough time to find our rooms and shower and dress for dinner. The hotel in Jaipur is a compound with lots of walkways and clusters of rooms like mini cul de sacs. When an attendant showed us to ours he said we were way on the end but right across from our special dinner evening.

Our dinner evening began at 7:30. Forgive me for sounding old and crotchety but I knew we wouldn't eat until 9. I groaned a bit but then we were whisked into a reception room where i got to choose from a colorful collection of large scarves and Bob was seated in a chair and a young man began to skillfully wrap a long stiff scarf around his head to form what I believe is called a pagri, or Indian turban. All the men sported those and the women, beautiful scarves. 

When we were seated, the entertainment began. Four young ladies in bright dress with flaming pots balanced on top of their heads began to twirl and twist to the music of the trio of men seated behind them. Later one lady would return and dance with three pots, then five pots and finally a sixth pot added. 

When the entertainment was done, I glanced at the time. Almost nine. Thankfully there were a lot of good choices on the buffet and I didn't need to eat anything spicey. The best part was a flat bread that was baked over on open fire off in the corner of the large outdoor patio. As the woman baking the bread finished several pieces, they would be brought to the table and offered to us. So good! 

The desserts here have been really good as well and going through the buffet, I asked about a bowl of what looked like small plums floating in a honey sauce. The server said it was a special Indian sweet, a type of cottage cheese wrapped in a sweet coating and with a honey sauce. At least I was right about the sauce. It was very delicious as was the brownie I took as I patted myself on the back for not taking the chocolate cake as well.

Do I need to mention that we were exhausted as we returned to our room? It had been a long day starting with sunrise. The next morning was not as early a call but it would be started before the heat of the day closed in. Jaipur is called the Pink City. I was curious to know what that meant.

The Taj Mahal At Sunrise

 Five o'clock came early in the morning. By five-fifteen we were in the lobby bar getting a cup of coffee the hotel had provided (all French press--delicious). The call came to load the carts and we started out. Now here I should back up and tell you what I had decided to bring with me that morning. If you remember my previous post, I covered all the things not allowed. I had made it through security easily with only a cell phone and pack of tissues. This morning for some reason, I decided I should take my little cross body travel purse. It held my hand sanitizer, tissues, and a few other items I didn't think would be offensive. The key here being...I didn't think.

The night before we had quickly entered through the ticket gate because there were few people entering with us. That morning however there was quite a long line to get in. Seems everyone wanted to see the Taj at sunrise. The monkeys were out to watch us as we stood in line. We admired the way they managed to slide through the barbed and razor wire without a scratch. Lots of babies and little ones.

All along our tour director, Vishal, had tried to prepare us for the invasion of personal space that could come. We managed to get through the ticket area without too much fuss but then the crowd squeezed in once the ladies and men were separated to go through security. The press was on. I suddenly regretted bringing a purse. We had to maneuver to one side to put our bags through the scanner and then try to move to the left again to go through the "frisk". All the while with women pressing against us. There were three of us that kind of stuck together and finally made it to get frisked. Just as we did, they opened another booth and it eased the press a bit but only to begin again once it was time to retrieve our bags. 

The other ladies had larger bags that were easy to identify and the attendant went through them inch by inch. The press got tighter as I tried to point out my purse which had been covered up by a large black bag. Women were yelling and insisting on getting their bags. Arms were flailing around me pointing to the pile. I finally managed to get the attendant to understand that mine was under the big one. She went through it and handed it back to me. The hard part was trying to turn and make my way back through the press of bodies. I finally did like the locals. I pushed through-hard.

Just as I emerged, Yogi was there searching for me and looking relieved to see me finally come through. I explained and we joined Bob to hustle through the walkway to join the others. What an experience! I was ready for a shower.

We were directed to go in and observe from the area of the east mosque. I  was grateful we weren't going up all those stairs again. The photographer stopped us to take a couple more shots and explain that he would have all the pictures on a flash drive for us to buy at $50 USD. "That's nice," I said and we moved on. 

I caught a glimpse of the sun coming up through the trees, a hazy red ball and I wondered if the Taj would look any different in the morning. It was already light enough to give it that ethereal look. That seemed to be the best way to explain it. It just doesn't seem real. It's like a cloud perhaps descended and formed itself into the shape of the mausoleum and at any moment could disappear. 

We sat in a few peaceful moments which were so welcome after the security experience. I took a series of pictures again but still did not see a great change in the color. There was a deepening of shadows though as the sun rose.

The morning was pleasant and we enjoyed the walk back to the exit where we sat again and admired the beauty. There was a gentle breeze once again and the temperature had not climbed yet. And yes, I could see the promise of blue sky in the haze that was tinted light gray-blue.

The Taj Mahal At Sunset

 Golf carts, or electric carts as they called them, sat waiting our departure at 3 pm for the short ride to the Taj Mahal. The route was all of five minutes but I wouldn't have wanted to walk it. Shops lined both sides of a crowded street with motorcycles beeping horns and pedestrians rushing by. The carts pulled up right in front of the entrance to the Taj and we proceeded through turnstiles to the security area. 

Our tour director had briefed us on the security procedures. There is one line for gents and one for ladies. Any bags you carry in will not only be put through a scanner but will be searched by hand thoroughly. You are not allowed to carry in any type of writing tool (no graffiti or John loves Jane messages on the walls). Also prohibited are guns, ammunition, fire (matches, etc.), smoking items, liquor, eatables (especially toffee), headphones, knives, any wires (like chargers), electric goods (except cameras) and tripods, Mobile phones are okay as long as they are silenced. Whew. 

I chose to make it easy on myself and had only my phone, a packet of tissues and my room key. When it came my turn to go through the "frisk", I held them in my hand raised my arms and got the usual (but gentle) once over. Not bad. The men's line had moved faster since some of the women had brought bags or larger purses with them.

We stopped just inside out of the security area and got a short talk of what was planned. Yogi stood next to a sign that warned of the monkeys. We had seen them on our way in and marveled at them, some toting babies. Inside we were told not to make eye contact with them if they came close. They would get angry so be careful if you stop to take a picture.

A short walk and we were to an archway that framed the Taj Mahal. It was a perfect picture but for all the people coming and going. Hard to stop and frame it but some of us tried. The thought occurred to me then and many times after that it didn't look real. The haze that hung here as well in Agra wrapped the Taj in mystery making it seem ethereal. I must admit though the haze here at least had a bluish tint and there was a little breeze that helped with the heat once in a while.

Once through the archway, we stopped while the professional photographer, who would follow us through our visit this evening and in the morning, took his pictures. A group shot, individual couples-together and separate, and those traveling solo. They would be available before we left Agra.

We walked about, stopping for Yogi to talk about the story of the Taj. The Taj Mahal is actually a mausoleum and was built by Shah Jahan to honor his wife, Mumtaz Mahal (Chosen One Of The Palace), who died in childbirth in 1631 bearing his fourteenth child. They had been inseparable companions for their 19 years of marriage. I read somewhere that he was so crushed by her death that his hair and beard turned white.

The iconic structure is made of Makrana marble. The inlaid designs are made of precious stones. The intricacy is astounding. 

To get to the inside of the tomb, you climb about 20 or 25 very steep steps, at least for me they were. Between the heat and the climb I knew I was in trouble. When Yogi stopped to talk more about the architecture, I told Bob I was going to sit for a few minutes. There were a couple of steps in the corner of the terrace where an Indian family was resting. When I asked if I could join them, they kindly moved over. It wasn't long before I was joined by a few more of our group after the family left.

I was very lightheaded and fighting it off. When we climbed a couple more steps to enter the mausoleum, I decided it was better for me to sit somewhere instead. I didn't want to cause a stir if my knees buckled and I went down. I pointed to steps at the other end of the terrace where a couple sat and told Bob I would be there. The group had to come out that way so he wouldn't lose me. 

I didn't get to see the tombs in the center (neither of which holds the Shah or his wife, they are below) or the translucent way the marble looks when a light is shone through it. No pictures were allowed inside so I will have to use my imagination along with Bob's description. What did happen however was I mad another friend. An Italian lady who spoke excellent English sat down next to me and we compared notes and observations about New Delhi. She and her traveling companion were on a similar trip to the triangle cities and would be taking a train to Jaipur the next day.

By the time Bob joined me again, I was much better and we walked around a bit and eventually drifted with everyone else over to one of the mosques that flank the mausoleum. We waited to see changes in the color of the marble as the sun was setting. Soon we were walking to the exit where we found another place to sit and watch. I took a series of pictures but if there was a change except for the dusk, I couldn't see it. Maybe perhaps a little creamier look?

Our carts took us the short ride back to the hotel and a good shower. After catching a glimpse of dancers on the rooftop of the lounge area across the pool we went in to eat. We had  had to make reservations for this night as there were only two restaurants and neither was very large. Dinner was a ceasar salad with smoked chicken for me and Bob had a pasta with tomato sauce that still managed a little chili spice. We called it an early night as we had to be ready to leave at 5:30 in the morning to see the sunrise at the Taj. And what an experience that turned out to be!

On To Agra, India

 

Our bags were outside the door by 8 am and after a nice breakfast of fruit and toast, I was determined to eat light this day, we met together at our assigned bus, identified our luggage to be sure it was with us and we were shortly on our way. A group from the staff of the hotel lined the drive as we drove away to say goodbye. 

We had spent five nights at the Oberoi Hotel, three on our own and two with Uniworld. I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful that experience was even though we were sick for a day. The smallest details were taken care of, many without our request. Just one example was the laundry. If it was given to them by 10 am it was returned by 7pm. It was charged by the piece but reasonable and we needed to keep up with it since our packing was limited with the weight requirements on our luggage for the domestic flight to come. We didn't pack as much as usual.

Just past 6:30 we had a knock on the door and our laundry was delivered in a covered basket. He set it on the sofa and opened the top to reveal a package of laundry with a rose on top of it. The shirts were meticulously pressed and folded with a paper band around each one individually. Bob underwear folded neatly beneath it all.

The ride to Agra took four hours, a good part just getting out of New Delhi traffic. Some of the places we passed were interesting in the city as we left. A barber chair set out under a tree, barber waiting for customers and of course the food stands that were preparing breakfast food. 

Once out of the city, we were on our way, this time on a freeway. Not a lot of traffic and certainly not a lot of honking horns. The countryside was farmland. Yogi said that it was time to prepare fields for planting. We did not see a lot of people in the fields working but we did see one oxen driven cart. Oh, and there were several cows along the side of the road.

About two hours into the trip, we had a rest stop. It was a relatively new place now that the freeway had been built according to our guide. Amazingly we saw a Burger King, a Subway and a Starbucks. Yogi pointed to a door that had a sign on it, "Jolly Go". Needless to say, it made us all giggle. The restroom inside was very clean with an attendant handing out toilet paper as you went in and more to dry your hands with after washing.

We explored the Burger King and the rest of the food court. Of course there were no beef burgers. Everything was chicken. One lady bought fries and said they were really good. I don't think they have the same restrictions on what they fry them in here so its probably the good stuff we used to have at home before everyone decided we were going to die from eating too much of it.

Agra is a smaller city than New Delhi but similar. Still traffic. 

The hotel in Agra was another Oberoi. I'm not sure if there were more rooms but the outdoor area was larger with more places to sit, lounge and walk. Upon our arrival, we were surprised to find our rooms were ready so we could take our backpacks there and leave them before lunch. 

Key in hand, I turned one way and the other and immediately a staff member was by our side to lead us to our room. The hallways are a bit intimidating at first as they kind of weave a bit. I was afraid we wouldn't find our way back to the elevator to get to lunch. 

The door opened and I gasped a bit. The room was just as magnificent as the one in New Delhi but the view was spectacular. It overlooked the gardens below and out on trees in the distance was the Taj Mahal peeking over the top of them. I knew every room in the hotel had that view but I wasn't expecting it to be so overwhelming.

Reminding myself to eat light, I had a delicious assortment of veggies and a cup of mushroom soup before we readied ourselves for our first full glimpse of the Taj Mahal. Gulf carts that carried ten to twelve guests awaited our arrival at three and we were soon on our way the short distance to the Taj, passing lots of opportunities to shop along the way. This was what the whole trip was for actually. Bob wanted to see the Taj Mahal. A tick off the bucket list was about to happen.

A Tower And A Temple

 Our afternoon on the Masterpiece tour offered by Uniworld was an extra excursion. We had onboard credits that we needed to use and so we opted to book it. It was a little drive to the Qutab Minar so we enjoyed the AC on the bus for as long as we could. Have I mentioned the buses are wonderful? Lots of room, AC works well and seats are comfortable. The driver (his name is "Honey") is amazing. The way he gets through traffic and backs into and out of tight places. Just amazing.

The Qutab Minar is the highest brick minaret in the world. It is part of a much larger complex shared by surrounding mosques, tombs and other towers. The Qutab Minar dates back to the 13th century and is among the earliest examples of Islamic architecture in India. Verses from the Quran are etched into the red sandstone. 

The tower is 72.5 meters high. It is 14.32 meters at the base and tapers to 2.75 meters at the top.

Just as amazing is the pillared area where you first enter the complex. Each pillar is a work of art. Some pillars were changed to reflect the other religious groups that took over so they are kind of a mixture from the changes that occurred so often in India.

While the afternoon ( it was a little after 3) was cooling down a bit as the sun was beginning to dip to the horizon, it was still very hot. I found a bench and sent Bob off to wander again. Soon I was joined by another lady in our group. I shared one of my Water Wipes with her and we both patted the sweat from our faces. She had a cool cloth, one of those you can wet down and wrap around a head or neck especially when exercising. I should have packed mine, I thought. Note to self for the future.

As we sat there, the guide from bus 2 who was leading us this afternoon joined us. Our conversation turned to India's history. There were five dynasties who ruled India before the Mughals came. They ruled the longest and then the British until 1947 when they became independent. I'm as old as your independent country, I told him. He smiled at me and said, "Yes, we are a young country." Bless his heart.

On our way back to the hotel we stopped shortly, staying on the bus, to see the Jagannath Hindu Temple said to be home to three deities including Lord Jagannath who is considered to be the "Lord of the Universe." (Lovely, I thought, but I'm glad my God isn't contained in a building.)

Our side of the bus saw the temple first. All white and intricately designed. Next, the amazing bus driver backed into a tight space, sort of a side alley and turned the bus around to let the other side passengers have a good view. With that, we were off to the hotel with just enough time to shower and dress for dinner.

That night was a group dinner beginning at 7:30, already a bit late for us to eat. Appetizers were circulated by staff. We got hold of a couple that sent everyone at the table reaching for the water. We passed next time around. At 8:30 the buffet was opened. Now it was really late. I should have stopped with the appetizers but I soldiered on but became very particular about what I chose according to its description.

The breads were very good and I found something called butter chicken which had a mild sauce that was tasty. I was amazed to find ice cream at a buffet and even though dairy and I don't agree, I plunged in. I hoped it would cut some of the spice that was still tinging my mouth.

All said, sleeping was a bit rough with all of that being eaten so late. The morning start was at 8 am with having our bags out and then meeting the bus at 9. The ride to Agra took about 4 hours. I kept watching along the way. Would there be any glimpse of a blue sky? Or would it continue to be a gray haze?

Visiting Rah Ghat and Humayan's Tomb

 Raj Ghat is the place where Gandhi is memorialized. According to our guide, his ashes are not here but scattered all over India according to his wishes. 

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was popularly known as Mahatma (Great Soul) Gandhi. He was born in 1869 and was assassinated in Delhi in 1948. After his initial education in India he studied bar-at-law in England. He went to South Africa in 1893 and became a civil rights activist fighting what he called the "deep disease of colour predjudice" before coming back to India. He donned the modest and more traditional Indian dress and fought peacefully against unjust laws and for the independence of India which didn't happen until 1947. He is called Father of the Nation.

As you walk toward the main part of the memorial, there are plaques mounted in stone that contain many of his sayings. One I particularly enjoyed was "Do not listen to rumor but if you do, do not believe it."

There are several approaches to the memorial. As we neared we were given the option of walking straight through at ground level or taking the gentle ramps that gave you an overview. If the route you chose was at ground level, you needed to remove your shoes. The ramps are what everyone chose and we started up.

At the top, you could look down into the large grassy square garden area that had a raised black marble platform in the middle adorned with marigolds and supporting an everlasting flame in the center. It was simple and peaceful and even though it was not actually a burial site, it certainly was an appropriate memorial to a man of peace.

On our way back to the bus, we passed by a stature of Gandhi. At the base was another profound statement of his, "Be the change you wish to see."

The temperature was climbing. It didn't seem to be terribly humid but it certainly was hot and even though there was a smoggy haze, the heat comes through- unlike clouds that offer shade and cooler temperatures.

Our next stop was Humayan's Tomb. Along the way we passed the India Gate. An archway similar to the Arc in Paris, it is 42 meters high (about 126 feet) and commemorates the 70,000 Indian soldiers who lost their lives fighting the British in WWI. 

When we arrived at Humayan's Tomb, the heat struck me immediately but thankfully there was a bit of relief with some shade trees along the walk. Humayan was a Mughal emperor. The tomb was built in 1570 and is notable for being the first garden tomb and also the architectural inspiration for the Taj Mahal.

There are several surrounding tombs, one which had beautiful blue tile design along the base of the dome. We climbed several steps into Humayan's tomb and were left to explore on our own. I need to emphasize that our guide did quite a bit of explanation along the walkway, stopping at places for more information but with the heat, I couldn't stand that long to listen and sought out a bench to rest on.

Inside the tomb was rather plain compared to the intricate design on the outside. There were several sarcophaguses in various wings and center but, feeling the heat again, I chose to let Bob (who, by the way, loves the warmer temps) wander as I found a step to sit on. That's where the fun began for me.

A lady smiled broadly at me. She was dressed in a bright red sari or Indian garb and gestured to a spot next to me. I smiled and nodded. She sat down. Right next to me. I mean right next to me. We westerners aren't as comfortable without our personal space. 

When her teenage daughter gestured with a phone camera pointed at us, I got the idea. They wanted a picture with the white lady. We had been told that this would happen so I happily obliged. I even handed my phone to the daughter who took a picture for me. After all, teens know how to handle the technology so well.

Eventually everyone in their group joined in and took pictures. When Bob came back they took more with him and thrilled at trying on his hat. Don't know why they would be fascinated with the dorky bucket hat. *smile*

Traffic going back to the hotel was a bit heavy so we arrived with just enough time to have lunch and get ready to go again. We had signed on for an afternoon tour. I was beginning to wonder if that had been a good choice. The heat was sure to be worse in the afternoon. I could only hope I would survive it.

The Rickshaw Ride Through Old Delhi

Tuesday began our first day of touring with Uniworld. There were two large buses for only 38 of us. We were asked to split into two groups. With only 19 or 20 on a bus, there was plenty of seating. The front seat was open so we took it. As we started out, our guide, Yogi (name is much longer but he shortened it for us) said “this brave couple is in the OMG seat” because we had such a good view of the traffic and the maneuvers drivers and motorcyclists were making. He said those who sat there often exclaimed "Oh My God! It was fascinating. We were quiet.

One short beep of a horn means one thing, two beeps another and if someone lays on the horn you’d better move over or be aware of another vehicle making a delicate but very fast maneuver. While there were lots of horns I didn’t see a lot of road rage like we see at home. 

It is a bit overwhelming to try to absorb everything you are seeing as you ride past so many buildings. Many of them were government buildings as we drove through the New Delhi portion of the city. We passed by the Red Fort which was the main residence of the Mughal emperors. Its construction dates back to the mid 17th century.  

The city, while called New Delhi is actually made up of the new and old. Once in Old Delhi, you can truly see the difference. Narrow streets and more motorcycles than cars. Soon we were stopping by a bus that was parked to create a sort of stand for rickshaws. They were all lined up and ready to receive us.

We were first off the bus and walked down the line a bit until one of the drivers motioned us to his bicycle powered rickshaw. We were settled in and told to put a foot on a metal support in front of us. “That is seat belt,” Hassan, our driver said with a grin. We had already been warned to be sure to keep our hands and heads inside by our guide and to hold tight to our phones or cameras. You didn’t want to drop them and have them run over.

We had a bit of heavy traffic to get through first on the main road before we turned off onto a narrow street. Let me tell you, there were a few breathtaking moments. If I can get the video uploaded either now or later, you might see what I mean. I am amazed at how close vehicles of all sorts come to each other and don’t collide. It obvious in the fact that most cars have no dents or scrapes on them.

Wires hung like spaghetti tossed in the air and draped where they fell. Interspersed among the thinner black lines were thick yellow cables. I asked if they were all electrical or some telephone and I think, if I understood him, they were all electrical. I cannot imagine trying to trace a problem through all that. Maybe they just string another line.

We were in a market area that was just getting ready to open shops. Lots of motorcycles, handcarts and some bicycles loaded, and I do mean loaded, with huge bundles of goods headed for the various shops. Some of the fresh vegetable and fruit stands were already open. I love the way these stands display their produce so neatly.

The market area was organized by type of product. We passed by the wedding stores that were displaying bright colored decorations for ceremonies. Wedding season was coming soon and happens this time of year after the Diwali festival of lights celebration in October.

Another section was full of little shops selling beautiful saris or sarees as the signs said. We even passed one that Hassan said was a discount store. It had a line out into the street with people waiting to get in for the best choice and price.

Still further on was a used car parts area. There were displays of tires and hubcaps and other such mechanical needs.

It was a very bumpy ride. Hassan kept us moving for the most part, stopping on occasion to be sure the other drivers were behind us. I assumed he was married since at one point he mentioned, “happy wife, happy life.” Sometimes it was difficult to understand what he was trying to tell us. For the most part the people we had engaged in conversation spoke English well enough to be understood but we were in a moving rickshaw, dodging other small vehicles and bumps and rocky pavement and the cacophony of noise didn't help.

The ride was about an hour. At least it seemed that way. Finally back at the rickshaw stand again. We tipped Hassan and thanked him. It had been quite an experience. When we boarded the bus again, the lady who was in rickshaw next to us as we started was helped up. We discovered she was 87 and I believe traveling on her own. When we were first seated in the rickshaws, she had scraped her knee badly. The driver took a dirty greasy rag and was going to dab the wound with it. I quickly interceded and offered one of the wet wipes I had with me along with a tissue. (The wet wipes are actually Water Wipes I had bought for the trip. They came in handy throughout the day.) We offered her our seat so she didn’t have to walk back through the bus and they could tend to her knee with the first aid kit. Sweet lady.

On the bus, everyone settled in for our ride amidst the traffic and beeping horns to the next stop, the Ghandi Memorial. 

Don't Blame The Chicken

Plumaria trees add a sweet aroma around 
the pool area at the Oberoi.

 So the spicey chicken at the Boshaun restaurant meal the night before I suddenly realized was not to blame for Bob's malaise when I joined him in his misery. Despite our flu shots before we came, I'm guessing the two of us found a 24 hour bug, the kind that hits you like a truck and zaps your energy. We lost a whole day to it and still feel exhausted. Thank goodness we came a few days early.

Before I got sick, I made another trip to the Patisserie, by myself since Bob was not up to eating. I hade a really nice bagel with egg, fries and a cup of tea. This time I remembered to take some pictures. We both really like the little place and will surely revisit it again.

You might say we lost a day just sleeping but gradually we managed to let food back into our lives being careful to stay away from anything spicey lest it react badly. I guess we will pass on the new restaurant the hotel offers called the Dhilli. It is an Indian specialty restaurant and we'll stick with the 360 where we have more mild choices for our diet right now.

The plan to have a four hour tour with a hotel car is also something we will pass on. Our tour with Uniworld will begin tomorrow morning early. It will be a long day with a tour in the morning and another in the afternoon so we are saving our strength for it. Two seventy-somethings need to take things a little slower. 

We are excited to get to meet the others who will join our group of river cruisers. Some of them are already here according to the Uniworld FaceBook page and others I'm sure are arriving by day's end. 

Since I have some down time, I used it to look up a few things I was curious about. When we get up each morning it is always foggy or smoggy and as we look out our fifth floor window, you can see it settle into the trees. It goes away a bit but in the several days we've been here, I've never glimpsed blue sky. I searched online for the air quality for New Delhi. It wasn't encouraging. Here's what I found:

Delhi, India's air quality is currently unhealthy for sensitive groups. Some say the city's toxic skies are similar to another Asian capital that was once known for smog so thick it could hide skyscrapers. Factors that contribute to Delhi's poor air quality include crop stubble burning and Diwali celebrations. Air pollution in India is estimated to kill about 2 million people annually making it the fifth leading cause of death in the country.

I'm guessing the Asian capital they refer to is Beijing which is the only other place we experienced this and it was definitely much worse. We sat in a plane on the airport tarmac for two hours waiting for a slight break in the smog in order to take off. There was such a small window that they would not let us disembark lest we miss the opportunity to take off.  I am interested to see if it is like this in the other places we will visit in India.

The other research I did was on Diwali which takes place during part of our visit to India. It is the Hindu festival of lights and symbolizes the spiritual victory of light over darkness, good over evil and knowledge over ignorance. Fires are lit, fireworks shot off and many celebrants lighting candles and lanterns. I'm sure when it arrives, our river cruise guides will explain more to us. 

So, I sit for now with my computer on my lap looking out the window at a still hazy sky with birds sailing about, some which are large enough to be eagles, and await our first meeting to receive our welcome packet and schedule for tomorrow. I'm ready to get this adventure started.