Tales of marble corridors: The Imperial and the Taj Mahal

I put off writing about the Taj Mahal because it really does defy words.  But for my own sake I should recall our day there before it recedes into my increasingly goldfish-like memory. 

We were staying at the Imperial hotel – supposedly one of the best hotels in the world and certainly in Asia.  Yes it was very expensive, but because the pool was closed for renovations it was less expensive than usual, so we took advantage of an opportunity to stay at one of the world’s truly historic hotels.  It was built in 1935 and was the only hotel planned it Lutyen’s New Delhi.  Ghandi, Nehru, Jinnah and the Mountbatttens all met here during pre-Independence negotiations and Jinnah was actually ambushed here by a mob of rampaging Sikhs (from memory about the Sikhs).  The corridors are marble, the breakfasts are amazing, and the service is immaculate.  Anyway, why am I talking about this in a post on the Taj…because I was unwell and needed cosseting so we opted to take the hotel car for the day rather than the train, as we had originally planned. Costly yes, but my God was it worth it. 

We had to leave the hotel at 6am in order to get to Agra by 10:00.  The car was not a limo but it was certainly comfortable – much more so than the previously mentioned cute but cramped padded Ambassador.  The comfort factor was also greatly improved by the provision of a huge picnic basket by the hotel including breakfast (birchermuesli, thermos of tea, pastries) and lunch (sangers, more pastries, potato crisps, orange juices etc..).  So all I needed was my trusty feather pillow and Jon to wake me up.  I think I made it as far as the car before falling asleep and waking up at a pitstop on the way to Agra.  The pit stop was something to do with tax that had to be paid for crossing into the next state. While our wonderful driver (who had that rare driver ability to know when to be chatty and when to shut up) went to pay the tax, we were surrounded by various hawkers and beggars tapping, then banging loudly on the windows in order to encourage us to buy chess sets (why is it always chess sets?? Bali too), bangles and other rubbish.  A monkey on a chain then jumped onto the car, also in an attempt to extract money I presume, but I was only thinking ‘thank God it’s not my duco’. Jon grimaced back angrily at the monkey and knocked back on the windows in an irritated manner, scattering the hawkers and worrying the monkey into jumping down just as our driver returned to rescue us.  I wasn’t harassed by this really, just annoyed that they woke me up for the second time that day and it wasn’t yet 9 am!



Unsecured bricks

From then on I watched the passing parade on India’s Grand Trunk Road.  There really is evidently no limit to the amount that can be fitted onto a truck and with no ropes securing loads yet I didn’t see anything fall off despite considerable speed and the inevitable dodge’em car efforts.  I guess after six months of driving in Penang – which can be pretty haphazard – I was totally calm about the fact that cars, trucks and buses were hurtling towards us head on, on the wrong side of the road.  The goats and cows were a new addition though, but it’s amazing how quickly that becomes normalised.

 Eventually we arrived in Agra and picked up our guide.  I had been extremely clear at the outset that we did not want a guide, but was convinced to take one because otherwise we would have to queue for hours to get into the Taj.  Any other time I would have taken the evils of a queue over the evils of a guide (I hate being ‘guided’) but my flu was not encouraging me to want to join a long queue (I had heard that you can queue for up to two hours) in the cold so we opted for the guide.  I still wish we hadn’t, he wasn’t bad but was quite bossy.   Anyway, to get into the Taj you have to buy tickets at Indian Geo Survey office (there was no bloody queue) and take an electric car to the Taj – no filth-spewing vehicles are allowed within a certain distance of the Taj itself.  There is no doubt that that first sight of the actual Taj when viewed through the entrance gates is a lump-in-the-throat experience, although somewhat tempered by the absolutely necessary requirement to go through security scanners and pat-downs.
The building itself is everything that is said about it, ethereal monument to love, astounding workmanship and architecture and all that. I must say that the crowds, and the guide going on and on, took something from the experience for me.  On reflection I would have loved to be there alone just with Jon, but of course that is impossible for everyone except Princess Di.
Speaking of her, there was a scrum to sit on the seat she sat on (now dubbed the Diana seat) and be photographed with the Taj in the background.  I don’t know how people get all those romantic shots of the Taj because at the time of year we were there it was simply over-run with people.  Sadly, even the internal chamber with its sublime carved marble and pietra dura work was a bit like a rugby scrum, with a guard actually constantly blowing an ear piercing whistle which reverberated around the inside to stop people from taking photos, which was ineffective and made what should have been a very reflective, romantic place something I actually felt that I wanted to get out of quite quickly.  

I much preferred the rear of the building where you could admire the workmanship in peace and also watch the locals crossing the Yamuna river on tiny boats that emerged through the fog.

We spent about two hours in the complex in total. It was incredible, I wonder if perhaps we become a little numb to these ‘wonders of the world’ after having seen their images so many times.  I couldn’t help but compare my ‘Taj’ feeling with my feeling at seeing the pyramids in Giza – a little underwhelmed even though I had longed to see the Taj all my life.  There it was, and there I was, tick. Now it feels unreal that I was actually there.  The Great Wall wowed me more, and on reflection I think that was because you can never see the entire thing in a photo, you really need to be there.  But I guess I am comparing the incomparable and would never for a second discourage anyone from visiting the Taj Mahal – it’s a stunning building.  Perhaps go earlier in the day than we did, and don’t take a guide.

The trip back to Delhi was long and torturous. Apparently one of the lanes of the Grand Trunk Road changes direction around that time, and to describe what we hit as a traffic jam is insufficient.  We left Agra, after a stop for lunch and the obligatory stop at a pietra dura factory, at about 3pm.  We got back to the hotel about 9:30 pm making for a very long day which was certainly worth it.   Having been unwell, I’m glad we did it the ‘easy’ way.  Perhaps one day I will return and see the Taj at dawn, hopefully with less of humanity there….but it’s India so you can never be sure of that.