James and Tim's World Tour 2012: Go west

Monday, 10/12/2012 – 179 A.D.

We were going to have a better day today than yesterday. `Tis rare for a Grayboy to do anything before breakfast, but on this Monday morning we made sure of it. We were up at 07.30 and down that Foreign Tourists Ticket Booking Office just after the doors opened…and straight into a big, long queue that stretched all around the room. Seems plenty of people had got up even before 07:30. Still, at least we had couches to sit on as we waited for the three (count `em) attendants to process people’s ticket requests on what may well have been a Windows 3.0 operating platform. 90 minutes later, our moment arrived. We came, we saw, we booked three train tickets and walked away with a relief that we would never have to do it again. Well, at least until we go on our three month trek around South America next year, but that’s another story.

We made it back in time for breakfast with a couple of minutes to spare, then got down to business and booked our last couple of hotels ever. Or at least until we go travelling round the Middle East for several weeks in a couple of years’ time. Then it was off out across the havoc-strewn metropolis that is the city of Delhi. Getting the Metro down to Connaught Place again, we investigated the street market at Janpath from a distance, not stepping too close to the stalls in case we got called in to check out the items. Are the old hearts not in it anymore? Possibly. In truth, we were simply looking for a cash machine, as we were a bit low after paying for our train tickets in hard currency. One of Tim’s ploys when bargaining for items is to stash the bulk of his dosh somewhere about his person and to only keep a few notes in his wallet so that when he’s haggling at ludicrously low prices he can take out his wallet and show the trader that the price he quoted is genuinely all he has. It sounds like a cheap trick, but it’s actually worked more times than it's failed. But like I said, our hearts weren’t in it this morning.

After finding an ATM for the Standard & Chartered Bank (who do the best rates – it’s not just because they sponsor The Mighty Reds) we headed deeper into New Delhi and gradually came upon India Gate. This is a national monument for the country which has been standing since 1931 and is based on the Arc De Triomphe. There were plenty of people here and we suspected they’d come from far and wide across India. A few of the younger ones wanted their picture with us, but we’re really tiring of that now, maaaan! That’s probably why we didn’t stick around for long, simply bought an ice cream each and pushed off. Yeah, you read that right, ice cream in December – get in!

[Downtown traffic, Delhi-style.]

We walked quite a way to Humayun’s Tomb. This was commissioned in the year 1562 by the wife of the eponymous Mughal Emperor and was the first garden-tomb on the Indian subcontinent. It’s been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1993, but then if you’ve read this blog for a while you’ve seen more UNESCO World Heritage Sites than you’ve had hot dinners. The tomb is also the forerunner for the Taj Mahal in terms of a structure this size built from sandstone. And for all Taj Mahal-related-stuff, stay tuned to this blog for a couple of days.

I liked being at Humayun’s Tomb. There was a real calm in the grounds, particularly away from the main building. Coupled with the absolutely perfect weather, I could have lazed there all afternoon. And to be fair, we didn’t really have any pressing engagements to rush off to, nor did we have anything of particular note to see. But it’s not our way to just sit there and do nothing, especially when our days travelling the world are numbered. And so we left this calm realm and tried to walk to the nearest metro station and promptly failed by following an underpass that didn’t go anywhere except into the kind of horrific slum area that they are too afraid to even show on a BBC World News report. Therefore we jumped in a tuk-tuk and headed back across town. The journey took half an hour and cost less than a pound.

And that was it for the day, which for all intents and purposes was a much more successful day than that which preceded it. I even managed a chicken tikka masala in the rooftop restaurant. Things are looking up, oh yes indeedy they are, and I’ve just tempted fate in a big, big way…

Tuesday, 11/12/2012 – 180 A.D.

Raining in Delhi today! Who’d have thunk it? No matter, as pretty much all we’d be doing was catching a train to Agra. We’d had some difficulties with the Hotel Aura, and were amused to see that their feedback form allowed the customer to give ratings only of Very Good, Good and Average. What about P*ss Poor?

It was a short walk to New Delhi station, which we’d done every day we’d been in the city, so that was no great hardship, even with our backpacks on. Our train went at 14:00, but we were a little dismayed to see it was already delayed by an hour. Still, we’d read online to be wary of the electronic screens giving duff information and instead to ask an official. Any officials about? Nope. We knew we had at least two hours to wait, so we just found a quiet spot out of the way and played – you guessed it – cards.

After several defeats at the hands of my brother, I decreed we should head to Platform 1 and await our locomotive. The rain was still coming down hard as a big, long train pulled in, seemingly too early to be ours, but on closer inspection it was actually meant for us, just it had a different name on the station scoreboard compared to what was on the ticket. The clincher was when we saw the printouts from a dodgy dot matrix attached to the side of the carriage with pritt-stick. The names of all of the passengers sitting in the glamourous ‘3 AC’ were listed, included Yours Truly and His Brotherly. And the reason for us both having ‘FT’ listed beside our names? We assume it stands for ‘Foreign Tourist’, but have no idea why it should be present on the manifest.

We stood on the platform staring at that list for an hour before we were let onto the train. We figured we’d be in some cheap and cheerful three-seats-in-a-row set-up, but oddly enough we were booked into sleeper class, just not actually sleeping in it. True to form, we were sharing our little berth with a family comprising of a mummy, a daddy and two loud kids. The boy, the youngest, was particularly vocal and the little so-and-so barely shut up or stopped moving for the entire time we were on the train. His older sister kept niggling to wind him up, which brought back many happy memories as I remembered doing the exact same thing to Our Kid when we were growing up. And here he was now, 32 years old, and sitting next to me in the corner of the berth and pretending to be asleep so the kids wouldn’t bother him.

Picture taken just after boarding...

And four hours later...

The train pulled out at 15:00 and stopped dead in its tracks at about 15:10. We would have to get used to these prolonged stationery moments (no pun intended!) Already the young lad had been given a mug of tea which he’d spilt all over the floor and nearly soaked my big bag that I’d thought was safely stashed under the seats. We hadn’t left Delhi before the train stopped at one of the stations in the suburbs and more people got on, including another family who knew that which already occupied our berth. They joined us in the berth and, hunched up between my brother and the patriarch of one of these clans, I wondered why there were three seats clearly marked on this sofa-type thing, yet four adults and one child were sitting on it. I’ve done Chinese trains and been woken in the night by old men slurping noodles; I’ve done Vietnamese trains and shared my bed with baby cockroaches; I knew Indian trains would be bad, but I really shouldn’t be bothered by this. Good job the journey to Agra is only three hours!

The train ends up being two and a half hours late and that sodding kid does not stop shouting the whole time! Correction, he quietens down for a bit, which is mother’s cue to pick him up, tip him back to rub his face and set him off again! The other annoying thing is that pretty much every station we pass through is using emergency batteries. Looks like there’s a powercut across the whole of Rajasthan and I really don’t fancy alighting this train into a busy Indian station bathed in darkness. But cometh the moment, I have bigger problems. Fortunately there is power in Agra station, but as the train trundles to a stop I don’t get my big bag out from under the seat in time and as I try to manoeuvre my way down the corridor I meet people coming the other way with food trays, having just jumped on board to flog their wares. I step to one side into another berth, figuring they’ll have soon passed, but then more people come on board, this time with suitcases. There is not enough room for two people to get down the aisle and I am twisting and turning in the berth, realising that I could be in serious trouble if I cannot get off in time before the train starts up again. Suddenly I hear the angry shout of, “Excuse me! Excuse me! Excuse me!” from behind and when I look round there is Tim steaming down the aisle with his big bag held on his head like a man possessed. “I need to get off!” he demands and miraculously the recent arrivals get out of his way. Me? I heave my big bag onto my head and jump into his slipstream all the way until we’re safely onto that platform. What a good lad! He said to me afterwards that as he’d been in the berth dilly-dallying like I was, one of the matriarchs who’d up until that point slept most of the journey told him that he really should get off quickly or he might not manage it all. Thanks for that one, Missus!

The hotel we’re staying at does railway pick-ups, and the tuk-tuk driver who’d been sent clearly expressed that he’d been waiting three hours (yeah right, two at the most!) We’re staying at the hotel Tim stayed at last time he came to India and saw the Taj Mahal. It’s a functional little place that does the job, with no frills, but with an authentic Indian accommodation feel. Once again we were offered a double room instead of the twin we’d booked, but at least on this occasion they were able to switch us to a room with separate beds, and some pretty funky decor.