Week 102 - Jaipur, Agra, Delhi, Shimla (India)

The next day in Jaipur was another busy sightseeing day. Ali picked us up again in his autorickshaw, this time without Raja. We’d barely left our street before the rain started and pulled over to discuss whether we were making the right call heading out to Amber. We’d heard fabulous things about the Amber Fort and wanted to see it without getting drenched in the process. Thinking we could see the sky clearing on the outskirts of town we continued and by the time we reached the village the rain had stopped. The fort was huge, we were in awe.

Amber Fort, near Jaipur.

Amber was the ancient capital of Jaipur state until Singh Jai built his new city in 1727. The fort was begun in 1592 and towers over the valley with the village nestled below and the walls and battlements drapped over the surrounding hillsides. After a few photos of the honey coloured facade from the river side, we climbed through the gardens, to the main gate, dodging elephants carrying tourists up the hill. 

We spent the next couple of hours wandering around the fort admiring the courtyards, latticed galleries, mosaics and carved relief panels. As there weren’t many signs we just lost ourselves, exploring tiny little rooms and mazelike corridors. We stopped for coffee and cake before heading back out to the rickshaw, just as the rain blew back in. We ducked into the ticket office to wait out the worst of it, where a strange man asked if he could touch Rhys’s beard (that beard is getting way too much attention!) then made it out to the rickshaw. Although we could see the Jaigarh fort on the hill above Amber, the weather made visiting it a bad idea. If we had longer in Jaipur and blue skies, we would have loved to spent a day walking the walls of Amber, there’s always next time.

After Amber, and with an understanding of why everyone has been raving about the fort, we headed to the Elephant Village, not really knowing where we were going and what to expect. Rhys had a quick go driving the rickshaw on a quiet bit of road and then we turned into a small residential street. We pulled over and walked through a gate into a paddock where there was a beautiful elephant being fed. We wandered over to stroke her and watch, waiting for the manager to arrive. When he did, he started describing all these packages of things we could do with the elephants we weren’t really prepared for and didn’t have the cash for. We ended up giving a small donation before moving on to our next stop of the day, a drive by of the Palace of the Winds, Hawa Mahal.

A visit to the Elephant Village, near Jaipur.

It was a bit of a shame but our rickshaw couldn’t park near the Palace so I just hopped out and took some photos from the middle of the road, not really giving us a chance to admire the five storey, pink sandstone facade. The building was for the ladies of the royal household, where they could watch the city, hidden from view. Sadly we didn’t get a chance to go in to see the views from the roof but as the weather was still poor we were keen to continue on our way.

Hawa Mahal, Palace of the Winds, Jaipur.

Our final stop of the day was at the Albert Hall, housing the Central Museum. The building and museum seem to have poor reputations, both in our guidebooks but there was a decent collection of tribalware, costumes, weaponary, sculptures, coins and wood carvings and although we were pretty tired and just had a quick walk around, we enjoyed it.

The Albert Hall, Jaipur.

We were back at our hotel in the early afternoon, having seen everything we wanted in Jaipur and glad to be out of the rain.

After a beer on the rooftop we jumped in a rickshaw to the Peacock Rooftop Restaurant, a place that was recommended everywhere and where we hoped we’d be able to get Rhys some Western food since he was getting fed up eating Indian every night. We ended up at their second branch and were disappointed with the complete lack of atmosphere, having expected views and quirky furniture. We didn’t stay long and after our meal headed back to the room.

Our train wasn’t until the afternoon the following day so we had the morning to relax and run some chores. We got caught in a downpour when we popped out to get some passport photos for Rhys and spent the rest of the morning on the roof terrace enjoying a late breakfast.

Leaving Jaipur on a 3pm train, we headed to Agra. We’d only heard bad things about Agra, from tourists and Indians alike, so had really low expectations. We arrived after dark and took a rickshaw straight from the train station to our hotel in a gated area out of the centre of town. From the roof terrace of our hotel there were views of the Taj in the distance, strangely not lit up but sitting as a silhouette against the night sky. Even seeing such an iconic building at a distance was enough to get us excited and we ate dinner watching the Taj with lightening flashing in the distance.

Our first full day in Agra was a Friday and the Taj was closed to tourists, so we decided instead to hire a car and driver to visit Fatehpur Sikri, 40km west of the city. We were joined by another English guy from our hotel and headed out through the rain to the complex. We were caught in traffic and became the centre of attention with groups of people standing at the car window, peering in at us. Finally, we arrived at the fortified ancient city. Our driver dropped us at the rickshaw stand where we jumped in one to take us the last couple of kilometres to the entrance gate. 

Fatehpur Sikri was a short lived capital of the Mughal empire. Built by Akbar, the city was only inhabited for 14 years from 1571 to 1585 before lack of water meant the capital was moved. First, we visited the Jama Masjid mosque, still in use today, which we entered through the huge 54m tall Buland Darwaza (Victory Gate). Inside the courtyard we circled the grand exterior buildings, being bothered at every step by kids and men trying to sell postcards and necklaces - it was the most we’d been hassled since arriving in India. Opposite the main gate we came to the white marble tomb of the saint, Shaikh Salim Chishti, a beautiful building with stunning lattice work stone screens and mother of pearl decorations.

Jama Masjid, Fatehpur Sikri.

Leaving the mosque through a different gate, the Shahi Darwaza (King’s Gate), we walked to the palace complex, where after paying our entrance fee, we entered into a peaceful, hassle free complex. Akbar built three palaces, one for each of his favourite wives, one a Hindu, one a Muslim, and one a Christian. We visited ornamental pools, pavilions, halls and courtyards, marveling at the intricate carvings and the maze of buildings. It wasn’t too busy and the sun had come out so we enjoyed meandering around, taking photos and soaking up the atmosphere.  Back in the car we drove back through another rain storm to the hotel where we holed up in our room for the rest of the day. 

One of the courtyards inside the Fatehpur Sikri palace complex.

Inside the palace complex at Fatehpur Sikri.

We’d organised a rickshaw to collect us from our hotel at 6am the following day, having booked the driver for the whole day to see the sights of Agra. Although booking through our hotel was probably more expensive than arranging each trip as we went, it saved on a lot of hassle haggling every journey and meant we didn’t have to hunt for a rickshaw at 6am in the morning. The driver took us straight to the west gate of the Taj Mahal. We walked to the ticket office and just as we bought our tickets, the rain blew in and we spent 30 minutes hiding in a covered corridor hoping it would stop. 

It ended up drizzling for the entire time we were at the Taj and although that meant no photos with blue skies, it also kept the hordes away and meant we could walk around and enjoy the beauty of the place without fighting our way through streams of visitors - every year there are twice as many people visiting the Taj as that live in Agra itself. We weren’t disappointed, from the moment we stepped through the entry gate to the outer courtyard and were faced with one of the huge 30m red sandstone gates leading to the inner courtyard we were blown away. We wandered through the ornamental gardens following the watercourses, to the Taj itself. Taking off our shoes we climbed the raised marble platform to admire the white marble and carvings inlaid with semi precious stones. We walked through the central cenotaph before completing a lap of the building. 

View of the Taj Mahal, Agra. 

The Taj Mahal, Agra.

The Taj was built during the reign of Shah Jahan as a memorial for his second wide who died in 1631. The complex took 8 years and 20,000 people, from all over the world to build. Not long after, Shah Jahan was over thrown by his son, Aurangzeb and was kept captive in Agra Fort from where he could only gaze at the Taj from his window. 

We left the Taj through the south gate, emerging in the centre of Taj Ganj, the budget traveler centre of Agra, where the workmen who built the Taj set up home hundreds of years previously. We stopped at a roof top restaurant with views of the Taj for a breakfast banana pancake before heading back to meet our driver.

Agra itself was established as the capital in 1501 and fell into Mughal hands in 1526. Akbar, Jehangir and Shah Jahan all reigned from Agra before Aurangzeb moved the capital to Delhi in 1638. Although it’s a congested, dirty city, it has some beautiful buildings that were well worth visiting. We asked our driver to take us 10km north, to Sikandra, the sight of Akbar’s Mausoleum. Compared to the crowds at the Taj, the mausoleum was empty. We passed through a beautiful gateway to reach a courtyard, all built from red sandstone with white marble inlays and with antelope and peacocks grazing in the surrounding gardens - it’s crazy to see so many wild peacocks here.

Akbar's Mausoleum, Sikandra, near Agra.

Inside Akbar's Mausoleum, Sikandra, near Agra.

Next, we headed back in to town to the Itimad-ud-Daulah, the Baby Taj, another tomb, this time of a Persian nobleman who was minister to Jehangir and also his father-in-law. It was nothing like the Taj but did have some beautifully intricate carved screens and views over the Yamuna River. A short way away, we asked the rickshaw driver to stop at the Chini-ka-Rauza which was surprisingly quiet, yet another tomb, this one for the minister of Shah Jahan, built in the 1630’s. The tomb was once covered in bright blue mosaics and you can still see patches of the brilliant colours and designs. Beneath the tomb, on the banks of the river, temporary pavilions had been set up for some kind of festival and accompanying feast. We wondered down to watch the buffalo wallowing in the river and to see the people sitting around excitedly while huge cauldrons of food were stirred. 

Itimad-ud-Daulah, the Baby Taj, Agra.

Rhys outside the Itimad-ud-Daulah, the Baby Taj, Agra.

Local boy showing off his buffalo, the riverside, Agra.

Back at the rickshaw, we stopped at the Mehtab Bagh, a riverside park. Rather than paying to go into the park, having already seen similar ornamental gardens at the Taj, we walked along the side to the river front where we had perfect views of the Taj. As the weather had cleared the crowds had descended and we could see queues of people waiting to enter the building.

We had one more stop on our to do list and drove back in to Agra to the imposing Mughal fort. The red sandstone building, on the banks of the Yamuna River, was begun in 1565 by Akbar with the most important additions made by Shah Jahan in his favourite white marble. Initially it was intended for military purposes but Shah Jahan turned it into a palace. Much of the building has been destroyed over the years and the majority is closed and used by the Indian army. Nevertheless, the section that was open for visitors was impressive with towering gates, huge courtyards, rooms covered with mirror mosaics and views out to the Taj. 

Entrance gate to Agra Fort.

By the time we were finished at the fort we were tired and ready to head back to our room. Considering all the negative things we’d heard about Agra we’d enjoyed our stay and saw many incredible buildings. It may not be the kind of city you want to explore on foot but hiring a rickshaw for the day was the perfect way to see all the sights we wanted to visit.

We’d paid for late check out on our room since our train didn’t leave until 9pm. After picking up a Subway on the way back to the room to satisfy Rhys’s Western food cravings, we chilled until the evening. Our rickshaw driver collected us and dropped us at the station. Suddenly there were white people everywhere, the train we had booked was the one used by day trippers from Delhi. The train was delayed 30 minutes and we arrived in Delhi just before midnight. We’d booked into the hostel we’d stayed in during our first visit to Delhi and walked the short distance through Paharganj.

We were up early the next day to head back to the train station for the trip to Kalka. Having not had a full nights sleep we were pretty tired and grouchy. The trip was painless though and we were even served meals and drinks. Once in Kalka, we walked across the station to the Himalayan Queen, a toy train running through the mountains to Shimla.

We’d seen the train on TV before we came away and always thought it would be an experience. We were expecting carriages a little more luxurious and got stuck with seats next to a frosted window restricting the view a little. Rhys moved to sit in the open doorway and after the first hour, the couple sitting with us moved to an empty booth leaving me with an open window and great views. The toy train is a British built narrow gauge railway that takes 5 hours to travel from Kalka to Shimla, passing through 103 tunnels and crossing arched bridges as it slowly creeps it’s way through the mountains hugging the hillsides. The ride didn’t disappoint and the time flew by as we spent the entire time soaking in the views.

Rhys and the toy train on route to Shimla.

The toy train passing over a bridge on the way to Shimla.

Once we reached Shimla we jumped in a taxi to our hotel. As soon as we got there we were a little disappointed, although they’d upgraded us to the honeymoon suite, the room didn’t have a view and the circular bed and mirrors covering every available surface, made it feel a little distasteful. The hotel had great reviews from Indian tourists, I guess we just have different opinions on interior design. We wandered out to find the elevator that ran from the lower road to the pedestrianised Mall and found a better hotel to move to the following day that, although over budget, had stunning valley views that made it worth it. 

As soon as we reached the Mall our impression of Shimla changed, our original hotel was in a local area, in the centre of a crazy bazaar. The Mall is a pedestrianised street lined with decent shops and heritage buildings that make it look like a British high street. Fines are handed out for smoking in public, spitting and littering and plastic bags are banned and along with the altitude of 2,205m and the mountain air, it’s clean and fresh.

Shimla was a sleepy forest village until the British discovered it and decided to turn it into the official summer capital of the Raj, moving the whole government here from Delhi, each year from March to October. The town became India’s premier hill station. The centre of town is based around the Mall and the Ridge, where everyone strolls all day and through the evening, with views of the valleys falling away to either side. We spent our first evening sitting in a western cafe eating delicious pizza, overlooking some amazing British era buildings, the Town Hall and Police Station, that look like they’ve been transported here from home. 

British buildings in the centre of Shimla.

The next day we’d hoped to have a lay in in our extremely tasteful suite. It wasn’t to be. At 7am the water pump started and it sounded like some one was drilling into our head board. We were glad to pack up and leave, walking up the hill to our new hotel. Blown away by the view from our room, we set up camp and ordered a tea set to our room, popping out to a cake shop to buy a selection of chocolate, cream badness and biscuits, how British. We’d heard about the monkeys in Shimla being a little aggressive and sneaking in to open windows and jumped when one without a nose appeared at ours.

View from our bedroom window, Shimla Hotel White.

The clouds drifted in and the rain started just as we were getting ready to walk along the ridge. We waited but the weather didn’t improve so we ducked out and bought umbrellas before walking a few circles of the centre of town. Rhys stopped at a barbers and made the mistake of asking for his beard to be trimmed, the beard he’s been growing for months and was extremely proud of. He came out looking very trim and tidy, and very unhappy, it wasn’t at all what he was after, instead of a hipster beard, he’s now sporting a Dane Bowers/ carpet salesman look. The rain was still falling so we retired to the room, heading out again that evening for dinner. As it was Rhys’s Gramps’s funeral at home, we toasted his life while watching the sun set over the valley below. It was beautiful.

A toast to Rhys's Gramps, sunset from our room, Shimla.

The next day we woke to slightly better weather and decided to make the most of it, heading out to admire the buildings in the centre of town and to try and work out the deal with buses to our next stop, Dharamsala. The bus office was closed so we stopped by a coffee shop with views down the valley. When we found out our only option was 10 hours on a local bus we hunted down the cheapest taxi we could find. At only £35 it seemed more than worth it to us to avoid the hassle.

Afterwards, as the weather was holding out and we still need to wear in our new hiking boots before next week, we decided to walk to the Viceregal Lodge on the outskirts of town. We ended up following a well signposted heritage route that took us passed some beautiful Victorian and mock Tudor buildings. Rhys stopped to try to take a photo of a monkey in the trees and ended up being grabbed and chased, the monkey’s here really are aggressive. We reached the Lodge in no time and were struck with how British it all seemed. The Lodge is more of a Scottish manor house, built as the official residence of the British Viceroys. We wandered around the gardens before joining a short tour to see the inside of the building, now used as the Indian Institute of Advanced Study. It was a beautiful place and well worth the walk.

The Viceregal Lodge, Shimla.

We walked back into town, stopping for Rhys to grab lunch, before heading back to the room. After Rhys’s barber nightmare you would have thought i’d have learned but I stupidly ventured out too and had a similar experience, coming back with a Pat Sharpe mullet, absolutely horrendous.