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After a long travel by train from Hampi to
Bangalore and then by plane from Bangalore to Delhi, we arrive somewhat tired in Delhi, the capital
of chaos. We are armed with a face like thunder and a equal amount of lack of politeness which in
absolutely necessary in this place if
you do not want to end up in one of the numerous scams around here, which they
seem to have develop into the regional sport. As we want to take the taxi from
the train station to the airport, we are being assured by the group of ‘taxi
drivers’ that the sheet of paper he has state the official government rates,
like they exist in India, and we have to pay 1250 rupees. Don’t make me laugh
Graham answers, as we are told by a local India we met on the train that the
rate we should pay is somewhere between 400 and 600 RS. After a lot of haggling
and walking on our account, we find out that the dude does not have a taxi at
all himself but just tries to get commission by arranging a price with us and
then call over one of the taxi drivers standing at the and of the road. As we
get into the taxi that does look like one, we ask the dude ourselves as always,
on which he reply’s 450. That is a very interesting answer as we just a agreed
600. The poor guy gets a lot of verbal abuse until he pays the guys their
commission and they leave. Unfortunately this is not the only encounter we have
as we get on the bus that runs between the two terminals on the airport the
dude tries to get us to pay the double amount per person. And when I’m going to
the toilet on the train station the dude tells me I have to pay 4 rupees
instead of the two that it says on the sign above his head. That’s for pee he
answers me. Then that’s all I have to
pay I answer him. As that is not a good enough answer for the guy I ensure him
it’s only a number 1. My god, seriously, am I actually needing to tell this guy on a train station to specify
for what I need the restroom? Of course
he claims to have no change, only 6 rupees he has. After some more waiting and
keeping my leg stiff, the other two rupees suddenly appear like magic from his drawer.
Anyhow, we arrive safe and sound in our
hotel that turns out to be one of the nicest place we have been until now,
which is a nice change and escape of the immensely busy streets, which aren’t
the cleanest either.
The red fort looms up in front of us, it’s
incredibly big and build by the same king as who build the Taj Mahal. Unfortunately
he was never able to fully use it as his son put him to prison in Agra fort as
he almost made his kingdom go bankrupt by spending all the money and resources
on building the Taj Mahal for his deceased wife as a honour of their love. He allegedly
died, looking at the Taj from his chamber up in the red fort, and was buried next to his wife.
The red fort is more an enclosure of a city
than anything else, and as everywhere in India, security is high. With metal
detectors and scanners at the entry and guys looking unfriendly gazing over their
AK 47’s in their bunker. I never know whether to feel more or less safe when
seeing this.
Within the fort there is a welcoming sense
of serenity, walking along the grass fields, looking at the beautiful buildings,
terraces and pavilions. The palaces were
being cooled by an ingenious system that involved pumping up water from the
river and distributing it through the fort to cool it all down. Unfortunately
all the water ways are now dry but using your imagination you can see that this
would have been a magnificent site as they really knew how to landscape there.
But then again, what can you expect of the guy who created the Taj Mahal. The
buildings are all made of either red sandstone, or white marble, with carved in
flower patterns, filled with half gem stones, to give a spectacular view. When
you touch them you notice that the stone feels very cold and the surface feels
soft and perfectly smooth, as it’s polished to perfection.
I’m really looking forward to see the Taj
again, not long to go!
