Another 4 1/2 hour bus ride to Agra. We have left the State of Rajasthan, and have moved on to Uttar Pradesh, somewhat to the east. This seems also to be an agricultural area, but perhaps less prosperous. The towns we pass through along the road seem to have less “oomph’, if that’s possible. We got to Agra which is a more major city, but still not among the biggest in India. Think Baltimore or Cleveland. Still, it’s 3 ½ million people.
We stopped at the hotel and then back on the bus to the Agra Fort. This was built beginning in 1565 by the Moghul emperors, starting with Akhbar and then by his grandson, Shah Jahan. It was also a palace of palatial proportions. The problem was, due to palace intrigue, Shah Jahan, who built the Taj Mahal, was eventually imprisoned there by his younger son, Aurangzeb, who had usurped power by beheading his older brother and killing his nephew in order to seize power. Other than that, it was a nice place. There was a wonderful view of the Taj Mahal, about a mile down the river. We were there as the sun was setting, and the pink colors were wonderful.
We went out after we got back to go to the ATM. On this tour, this becomes a major production, as they really didn’t want us walking the roads. So the bus drove us 2 blocks to an ATM and the bus driver and bus boy were waiting for us. Of course, this is India, so the ATM only worked for one of the 4 of us. The machines are in Hindi or English, so there was no real explanation of why we were rejected. We walked around the corner to try a different machine where another 2 of us were successful. Poor John, who couldn’t get his card to work. He took the bus back, and Sheldon & Ed & I decided to walk back to the hotel. Sheldon had to buy some batteries for his camera, but they wanted an exorbitant price and wouldn’t bargain. We walked back the 2 blocks, dodging bicycles, motorcycles, the occasional cow, and cars going both ways on the same side of the street. It was what I would have expected from India, but Ed felt we had taken his life in our hands. C’est la guerre.
We went out after we got back to go to the ATM. On this tour, this becomes a major production, as they really didn’t want us walking the roads. So the bus drove us 2 blocks to an ATM and the bus driver and bus boy were waiting for us. Of course, this is India, so the ATM only worked for one of the 4 of us. The machines are in Hindi or English, so there was no real explanation of why we were rejected. We walked around the corner to try a different machine where another 2 of us were successful. Poor John, who couldn’t get his card to work. He took the bus back, and Sheldon & Ed & I decided to walk back to the hotel. Sheldon had to buy some batteries for his camera, but they wanted an exorbitant price and wouldn’t bargain. We walked back the 2 blocks, dodging bicycles, motorcycles, the occasional cow, and cars going both ways on the same side of the street. It was what I would have expected from India, but Ed felt we had taken his life in our hands. C’est la guerre.
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