Iconic India

Basking in its magnificence

Guess what this is

Sunrise over the Taj

It was even better with coffee

Jen at the Agra Fort

The world's largest sundial

*Note: Check out the pics of our last post below!

It was 6am when we rolled into Jaipur on the night train from Udaipur. Disoriented from lack of sleep (per usual on the Indian railways) we fortified ourselves with the ubiquitous cup of chai before plunging into the raucous throng of rickshaw drivers. Jaipur, the captial of Rajasthan, is a large, loud city and so we where happy to discover that our guest house, while plagued with mosquitoes, was at least located in a quite part of town. Since we only had a day there, we decided to venture straight back into the fray after dropping off our bags.

Many Indian cities are divided into two general sections: the "old city," often fortified by an intimidating wall and filled with narrow, winding alleyways, and the "new city," which entails the modern sprawl which has grown up in the surrounding areas in recent decades. It's easy to imagine why the the old city tends to be the most interesting part; that is where we headed that morning. After entering through a beautiful, towering gateway we were bombarded by a whole range of stimuli so common in this country. Rickshaws, cars, and motorcycles honked and screeched incessantly; shop keepers screamed about their wares in a vain attempt to attract attention; the harsh sun shone down on the city's pink buildings and glistened off massive heaps of dried red chili peppers; strangers stopped to ask us "Hello? What is your country? Where are you going?" or simply to oogle us; cows of all shapes, sizes, and colors stared up at us with their luminous brown eyes as we glanced at the ground trying to avoid their piles of shit; our nostrils were filled with the conflicting scents of piss and sweet spices; and all the while we were literally pushed and shoved by the mass of humanity coursing down the long lane.

We located a minar, or tower, in the middle of the old city and climbed it's tightly spiraling ramp up to the top. We gazed down at the semi-organized chaos below. The old city of Jaipur is laid out in a grid with a long boulevard down the center. The quadrants on either side are roughly categorical: there's an area for textiles, one for perfumes, one for spices, one for jewelers, etc. While this kind of thematic layout is common in India, it seemed to be particularly well executed in Jaipur. From our perch we spotted an gigantic triangle rising up near the city palace. A man told us that it is part of an old observatory. Since it looked so out of place, and therefore intriguing, we decided to go investigate.

The observatory was built in the 17th century by the astronomically inclined Maharaja Jai Singh. Entering it's courtyard is like falling down the rabbit hole. And into a modern art sculpture garden. Huge, enigmatic structures surround you. Their clean, curving lines and simple tan and brick coloring make them beautiful to behold. Gone was the glitz and glamor of Indian design. They were just pure form. At first glance you'd have no idea what they were. Some have huge, round surfaces; some had stairs leading to nowhere. As we found out however, they are all large scale astronomical instruments designed to perform various functions such as finding the angle of a celestial body from the earth. One instrument was the world's largest sun dial.

The afternoon and evening were spent wandering the crowded city streets, eying the merchants' various wares, and occasionally entering into an intense bartering bout over a traditional Rajasthani scarf or piece of jewelry. We finished off the night with a couple of tasty South Indian dosas (spiced potatoes wrapped in a crispy crepe and dipped in coconut chutney) and attempted to get some sleep while mosquitoes buzzed around our heads, devouring Nathan. Good thing we brought plenty of anti-malaria medication...

The next mornig we bid goodbye to Jaipur and the state of Rajasthan as we jumped on a bus. It was bound for Agra, which is located just three hours south of Delhi in Uttar Pradesh, India's largest state. The city is home to Agra Fort, the largest of the mighty bastions built by the Mughals during the zenith of their empire in the 17th century. However, the Agra Fort is only a side show to the city's main attraction: the one and only Taj Mahal.

By mid- afternoon we were climbing the staircase of our guest house up to the rooftop restaurant. I stared out over the city and the Taj - the icon of India - stared back at me. Though I could hardly wait to rush right up to it, we were saving the trip there until the next day. Instead we headed off to the Agra Fort.

The Fort, surrounded by thick red sandstone walls 20 meters high and 2.5km in circumference, is a massive place. Though the British destroyed many of the interior buildings when they converted it into a garrison (you gotta love imperialists), the palaces, courtyards, fountains, and intricately carved walls which still remain are more than enough to transport you back in time and bring to life the opulent world of the Mughal kings. Several hours dissipated as we strolled through the grounds and fantasized about a bygone era. Satisfied, we returned to our rooftop restaurant where we put up our feet and sipped cold beer as we watched the night descend slowly upon the Taj and wrap up the magnificent structure in darkness.

Up with the sun the next morning, we studied the changing light on the Taj over breakfast before heading to its main gateway. We'd come to Agra expecting to pay 750 rupees each to enter the Taja Mahal's complex. That's roughly $15 each - a small fortune by Indian standards. But as luck would have it, we'd unwittingly arrived on World Heritage Celebration Day when entrance was absolutely free. Feeling flush, we sprung for a guide and were led through a towering red sandstone archway into the gardens surrounding the Taj. Some things in this world are famous for good reason. The Taj Mahal is one of them. I can easily say I have never seen a structure more beautiful, more perfect, or more awe-inspiring in my life.

They call the Taj the ultimate monument to love. When Mughal emperor Shah Jahan's second wife, Mumtaz Mahal, died in childbirth in 1631, he was so heartbroken that he decided to build her the world's most extravagant mausoleum. Twenty-two years later, after some 20,000 people had labored non-stop around the clock, the Taj was completed. You can take a look at the pictures, but none begin to do it justice. The entire complex is built with astounding symmetry. The domed white marble mausoleum is sculpted and inlaid with stones with such delicacy and perfection that it is almost incomprehensible. Its sheer beauty is overwhelming.

Though I could ramble on, I'll spare you further accolades and leave it at this: we could easily have spent the whole day simply staring at the Taj Mahal. As it was, we whiled away the morning there before time got the better of us and we had to head to the train station.

Let me take this moment to paint you a small picture. Our train was delayed by several hours (suprise suprise). While loitering around the station we ran into two Danish girls trying to get to Delhi. After chatting for bit, we thought we'd kill some time by playing a game of cards. We sat in a small circle on the ground listening intently as the girls explained how to play Hearts, innocently minding our own business. After a few minutes, we all sensed a change in atmosphere and swiveled our heads upwards. There, standing above us and staring at us with an direct frankness only Indians are capable of, was a crowd of a good solid 20 people. And that, my friends, is what traveling in India is like every single day. One begins to truly empathize with the gorillas at the Woodland Park Zoo.

Eventually the train arrived, we clambered on, and were headed north to Amritsar, in the far west of the state of Punjab. But more on that later...