Right now I am sitting in an internet cafe with the stiffest keyboard in the world so this is going to be a short post for sure. We also had to negotiate our way around some warthogs crossing the road to get here, and I want to make it back past them before they get angry. I don't know what angry warthogs might do, but I don't imagine it would be pleasant.
After a wonderful sleepless night and a shower in a bucket, we left Delhi at 7am yesterday and had a long drive to Agra courtesy of a man called Ahmid (I think?!) who played the same three Bhangra songs and that old classic, "Gasolina" (copyright of Daddy Yankee - proper blast from the past) on repeat for at least four hours. We got there about 1, and were in the Taj Mahal by 2 with our tour guide, Ali (Him: "My name Ali, what do you think I am?" Us: "Err... Ali?" Him: "No. Muslim." Us: "Oh, ok."). He set up a ridiculous number of cheesy tourist shots for us, although it became a little uncomfortable when other people started taking photos of us too. Everywhere I go, people want photos either of me or with me - Charlotte too, but mainly me it seems, not sure why. Very strange. Most of the time they don't ask, like the paparazzi - I feel like Angelina Jolie.
The Taj Mahal was sensational. Touching it and seeing the sun going down over it and seeing the tombs, all of those things evoked feelings that seem cheesy or trite if I write them down. Suffice to say, it was sensational.
Our experience was only enhanced by Ali, our borderline fascist guide with delusions of grandeur. He kept telling random people off for having video cameras, telling people to move out of the way so we could have photos, and stopping traffic using his hand. A few times he would leave us saying "I just go to check something" and we would find him fifteen minutes later manning and directing a queue like an air traffic controller. Bearing in mind he doesn't officially work at the Taj Mahal, this was somewhat surprising. He was also definitely racist which added to the slightly uncomfortable nature of the entire thing. When we told him we were going on a tiger safari, he said "Ah, the tigers will come out for beautiful girls like you. They will not come out for negroes." I nearly choked on my water - apart from the general racism, aren't tigers originally from Africa anyway?! But to be honest that is quite characteristic of India - the fairer your skin, the more beautiful you are. They even sell skin lightening creams endorsed by Bollywood actresses. It's heartbreaking, especially because so many Indian women are beautiful in their own right, but I suppose it's no different to Western girls starving themselves into size zero. Not that I am going to preach about ideals of beauty in my blog - Jessica Simpson did a tv show that did that job perfectly.
Anyway, we then went to a marble-carving school and shop and I bought the most amazing marble plate with lapus lazulae and mother of pearl lotus flowers engraved in. So pretty I couldn't resist. We then went for dinner at a rooftop cafe and pretty much went straight to bed, via the first hot shower of the trip (yesss). For the first time I slept through the night - jetlag officially beaten. Awesome.
Today, we started early and drove for seven hours solid to Rhantambour where we're going on tiger safari. We're heading to Jaipur tomorrow and then to Jaisalmar for a camel trek.
Not sure when I will next get internet (that works), but thinking of you and missing you all so much.
Tan is progressing nicely in 30 degree heat (although thwarted slightly by having to cover shoulders and legs at religious monuments), I will keep you updated.
Lots of love xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx <3
No comments:
Post a Comment