Agra-cadabra!

Magically, by the time we arrived in Agra, Al was for the most part back to his normal self. The antibiotics had done their job, aided and abetted ably by the 'plugger', Gastro-stop. Here's a tip: if you're ever planning on being an astronaut, or one of those deep sea divers in those brass suits, with no obvious way of disposing of a number two or two, these are for you! Sitting down in the loo is a distant memory for days (3, and counting) with these little babies.

We treated ourselves to a high(er) end hotel in Agra, and were able to get to a rooftop cafe close by that had a view of the Taj at sunset. We retired early and set out the next morning for an up close look at the crown of palaces.

Like the rest of this holiday, sunrise seems to be the temps du jour for optimal viewing. One thing I'll enjoy when I'm back at work is being able to sleep in! With the rest of the foreigners we made our way down the the west gate, bought our ticket and went through the obligatory security screening on our way into the grounds.

Those of you who are familiar with our peregrine pal Feathers McGraw would be aware that he recently decided to come out of retirement to join us on this tour of the subcontinent, with the ultimate aim of scoping out the Taj Mahal for a later heist. He had been earlier foiled at the Great Pyramid of Giza (tomb robbers!) and had high hopes that this time would be his big moment for the ultimate score. He slipped through security in his 'I am a bag' disguise (though not without suffering the ignominy of being held up by the security guard after going through the X-ray, inspected, having a second security guard inspect him, and have to convince them both that indeed he was not a toy but in fact a bag before finally being allowed through. (Apparently toys are not permitted into the Taj, but 'bags' are.)

After wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of a flipper, he climbed onto Michelle's back and we began casing the joint. Alas, halfway through our rounds his carefully crafted plan was thrown into serious disarray again when he was identified by a young Canadian girl, who innocently noted "isn't that the penguin from Wallace and Gromit?" The penguin! She had seen right through his rubber glove chicken disguise and unmasked him as the master criminal he is! Foiled again! A picture would have to suffice yet again in the place of gems and other spoils.

I write all this because in all honesty what can I possibly write about the TM that hasn't already been said? Spectacular, ethereal, magnificent. Our photos capture the memory but not the unworldly beauty of the palace shimmering across the gardens and pools, how as you move through the forecourt it's edges gradually gain definition until you are started by how large and imposing the building now is, towering over you to remind you of how insignificant you, who are not the beloved wife of the most powerful Moghul in the world, truly are.

And that was just the morning! In the afternoon we headed over to the other main attraction in Agra, the Agra fort. This is just down the river from the Taj, and is in fact where the above mentioned Moghul spent his last days imprisoned by his son, gazing out across the river at his beloved shrine from his bedroom-cum-prison cell window. The fort housed a palace which was surprisingly beautiful and ornate - and huge. We spent a couple of hours wandering through the different buildings, rooms and courtyards, and only 25% of the fort is actually open to the public - the other 75% is actively used by the military. Even after 500 years, it's still recognized for its strategic importance.

At sunset we headed to the most expensive hotel in town for a drink and last view of the Taj. At $1000 a night, this is the land of high rollers and well beyond the means of mockpackers such as your humble scribes, but a drink... Well, why not. And heck... Let's stay for dinner too. Luckily the madness stopped there and we retreated to our four star squalor.

Day 2 in Agra was never meant to be, and can be summed up in three short lines:

Poo-ometer readings:
Al: 4*
Michelle: 2

Al: Honey, thanks ever so much for taking care of me when I was sick. I can't imagine having to do that.
Michelle: errrrgh

Yes, the next day Michelle fell victim to a similar illness that had early felled Al like a tree in a rain forest. Fearing the worst, Al broke out the antibiotics early, madly cancelled our buses/trains/hotels, and settled in for a couple of days of nursing duties. Luckily, by lunchtime it seemed to have subsided - ol- iron guts Michelle was obviously able to deal with all these exotic Indian bugs a lot better than Al - which meant we spent the afternoon lazing around the (very opulent) pool replete with swim-up bar rather than sitting on the bus to Jaipur. There's always tomorrow for that....


1. Snacks for the train
2. Al's a bit long for the beds
3. The grand entrance to the Taj forecourt
4. First glimpses
5. View back to the gate
6. The Yamuna river stretching behind the memorial, with Agra fort in the distance
7. There are a mosque and guest house flanking the main building on either side... Which don't get much attention!
8. Main entrance... No photos inside!
8. Detail of the beautiful calligraphy adorning the outside, constructed in such a way that the writing up high looks the same size as the writing down low
9. One for the pool room
10. The bird
11. Agra fort
12. The rules
12. The kings tub
13. Product placement
14. The Moghul reincarnate
15. Impressive flexibility!