Showing posts with label Massage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Massage. Show all posts

Tuesday, 28 July 2015

Back to Thailand; Mae Sot, Chiang Mai and Pai



We crossed the ‘friendship bridge’ into Thailand, feeling exhausted from travelling for two days straight and also I still felt feverish so kept popping the paracetamol. Apparently there was a bus straight from Mae Sot, the border town on the Thailand side, to Chiang Mai where we planned to go. Unfortunately we had no idea where the bus went from and what time it left- there was a few reports online of it leaving at 12 or 2pm, and it was 12.30 by the time we crossed the border so we had no idea if we had any chance. But my fever was getting worse and seeing as we didn’t know where we had to go, we accepted the fact we would have to spend a night in Mae Sot. We took a shared rickshaw from the border to the town, and were dropped off in a fairly desolate road in the middle of the town. Meanwhile, I had retrieved the Thai Baht which we had left over from before we entered Myanmar, of which we should have had about 120 pounds worth. However, I could only find about 20 of this, and although I was fairly sure where I had left it I wanted to check the rest of my bag in the other places I might have put it. We walked for about 15 minutes trying to find a guesthouse but there did not seem to be an abundance of them. Finally we found one, but were told it was full. To save us both trundling around with our heavy bags for too much longer, Jonno left me with the bags while he went in search for one that had room.

About another 20 minutes later and he returned, 2 more places were full but he found one more that said they had a room for us. We walked 5 minutes further and put our bags down, relieved. But when we got to the reception desk, it was shut and there was nobody there, we called down the corridors but nobody answered. Ten minutes later and still nobody had showed up which was strange because Jonno had told them he would be coming straight back to check in. So Jonno went off again in search of another guest house in case we needed to go elsewhere. In this time a member of staff from the hotel showed up so I checked in, and was given the option of the air conditioner or non AC room. When I asked to see the non AC and was shown a room with an air conditioner unit on the wall, the man told me that if I wanted to pay for the AC room he would give me the remote. I figured we could try without and demand the remote if we needed it. After a thorough search of my bag and still no sign of the missing Baht, our only guess is that it had been stolen while we were in Myanmar, as there were a few times it had been in one of my bags that I had left at the reception at hotels between check out and one of the buses. Anyway, there was not much we could do about it so had to accept this was money we had lost.

Jonno returned and as we were both very tired, we spent a few hours resting before venturing out for dinner. Jonno had been craving a Pad Thai for the past week so this was what we went in search for. However, no Pad Thai in sight and there wasn’t many options at all for restaurants. We found one that had noodle soup, and even though we were very bored with noodle soup we didn’t have the energy to hunt further.

After a much needed sleep and a few night time trips to the shared toilet which included jumping over cockroaches along the corridor, I was still feeling awful the next day and decided the best plan was to recover before moving on to Chiang Mai. So the whole day was spent in fitful sleep, and Jonno making trips around the town to bring me back fruit. We researched it and apparently there was a few places to visit if we hired a moped so we thought we could stay another day and see what is around before leaving.

Multi-purpose shrine and cat house


The following day, a little better but not feeling up to any day trips, we took a walk to try and find the bus station to book our bus ticket for the next day, and were sent on a wild goose chase to various bus parks and random roads. I felt pretty rubbish so Jonno carried on the search, to find the bus booking place about a minute away from where we had been turned around by a lady boy in a shop. I went to sit outside the guest house to get some fresh air, and ended up meeting a guy we spoke to in Mawlamyine in Myanmar, and a few other people on the way in and out of Myanmar. A few of the people trying to enter the country had asked me if we had any problem crossing, and I wasn’t too sure why until another set of people said that the road we had taken out of Myanmar had been closed because there was fighting. Apparently the government and the rebels had been in dispute over ownership of the road, and people had been killed in the fighting. Luckily we had managed to avoid any of the conflict, but it explained why a lot of the guesthouses were full as there were lots of people waiting until it was safe to cross the border.

The next day we took the bus to Chiang Mai, a fairly uneventful journey, and arrived there at about 4pm. We checked a map and noticed that the town had a square network of small roads in the centre so headed towards that. We found a nice guesthouse and treated ourselves to an air conditioned room. However we didn’t have much time to rest as we had been told there was a Sunday market happening (it was a Sunday) and we didn’t think we would be there another week so we had to take the opportunity. We ventured out into the ‘Sunday walking street’ and were met with market stalls on both sides of the street, selling clothes, food and souvenirs. After battling through crowds and making a few purchases, we found the Pad Thai that we were so craving and went back to the guesthouse for an early night.


Sunday market


The next day we spent exploring Chiang Mai- and the conclusion is that it is another town to cater for the needs of tourists- there was a McDonalds, a Starbucks, lots of western bars and travel agencies offering ‘authentic’ and ‘off the beaten track’ tours to ‘become an elephant mahout(trainer)’ or visit the ‘long neck’ tribe which I had heard some not great reviews about. Jonno did need to top up on his supply of contact lenses so we went to one of the Thai optician chain stores. He also wanted to check his prescription was the same so he asked them for an eye test too. He disappeared into the eye test room only to emerge a few minutes later with the huge metal glasses frame that they can slot various lenses into on his face, and they asked him to look at the road and see if his vision felt the same when looking out onto the road, a very accurate measure. He wasn’t quite sure, so instead we managed to bring up an eye chart on one of our phones, I held it and he stood a few metres behind to see if he could read it. There we were, in an opticians, having to do a makeshift eye test. Anyway, after doing a marvellous job at being opticians, we decided that we didn’t think his prescription had changed and ordered three months worth of contacts after some haggling, and were told that they should be ready in a few days.

The streets of Chiang Mai


By this point my fever had calmed down but I was still feeling weak and my skin felt prickly and itched like crazy, which was keeping me awake at night, so the following day we decided it was time for a visit to the doctors. But first, Jonno was also not feeling very well with his head problems and wanted to try a chiropractor to see if it was his neck that was causing it. We found an address of one, and followed the signs to a small road next to a hotel. We went into the door the sign was over, and entered some kind of workshop/jumble sale, with random dusty bits lying around everywhere. We asked tentatively for ‘chiropractor’ and one of the men behind the counter stood up and lead us upstairs. Apparently he was in fact the chiropractor, and the room he took us to was like an attic room with one bench in the middle. After he had cracked Jonno as much as he could crack but no mention of any major problem or further treatment, we were on our way and went to find the doctors. The first surgery we found had people queuing out of the door it was so crowded and we were told they could not see any more people, but there was another doctors down the road. So off we went to find this other place, and when we arrived there was a mere ten people waiting. We took a seat and waited for a while, until I was called up and gestured into a small room to sit on my own and wait for the doctor. He arrived a few minutes afterwards, did a few tests and told me I had dengue fever (for the second time possibly, I never got the first suspected case confirmed by a doctor) and the prickly feeling was due to having low platelets. He then stuck a large needle in me and gave me yet another concoction of drugs, charging me 40 pounds for this wonderful experience.

Since the Thai massage we had in Bangkok I had been considering the idea of doing a Thai massage course,, as it was something new and interesting I could learn and it is a bit like someone else doing yoga for you so it has many of those benefits too. I had heard that Chiang Mai was the best place for massage schools so went in hunt of some of the schools to look at the options. We searched around a little and after going through a few quiet alleyways we came across a place called ‘Wandee Massage School’. When we tentatively opened the door, a small cheerful Thai woman appeared and introduced herself as Wandee the teacher. As this was currently the low season for tourists she currently had no students, so if I wanted to learn I would get the bonus of one to one tuition. She recommended five days should be enough for me to learn the basics of Thai massage. Jonno was happy to have a few lazy days so I signed up to start 2 days later.

I think this dog has had too much protein shake


Jonno was still feeling pretty rubbish and we wanted to eliminate any serious causes, so we found a private doctors and asked them to do some general tests to check on his health. They poked him a bit and took some blood and aid they would check for various things and let us know if they discovered anything, at 100 pounds the initial tests were definitely not cheap but at least it might give us an idea of what may be causing his problems. As we had hired a scooter and had the rest of the day to kill, we took a drive up to a popular temple on the top of a large hill. Nothing spectacular about it, but it had some nice views on the way. We also found a sign to another waterfall, which again was a fairly standard waterfall for the area but it gave us a chance to have a walk around.

View of Chiang Mai

Another shiny pagoda


Someone has parent issues






On the way back to the guesthouse, we stopped at a night market and had a wander around there. We were getting hungry by this point and we spotted that in the middle of the market there were quite a few outside restaurants with sizzling domes in the middle of the tables, where people were cooking their own food. Intrigued, we investigated closer and it seemed easy enough- there was a buffet of raw meat and vegetables, you chose your food and once you have cooked it on the frying dome, its ready to eat. We could do that. So we were given a table, the waitress lit our dome and off we went to get our food to cook. We returned with a selection of items, placing them on the cooking area and waited for the magic to happen. However, we soon realised it wasn’t as easy as it looked. The meat which wen at the top had to be balanced carefully or it would slip down. And without oil or anything to stop it sticking it was creating a burnt layer over the dome. The dome also wasn’t very quick, and we got bored of waiting so were pretty sure food poisoning was imminent. And the bottom of the dome had a moat of water around it which we think was to boil vegetables (that’s what we did anyway) but this needed constant monitoring for topping up so it didn’t dry out and was also agonisingly slow. And then there was the eggs we had picked up from the buffet. How were we expected to cook the eggs? While I went for cracking the egg over the top of the dome which resulted in a burnt mess over the dome and most of it running down into the water, Jonno tried to hard boil his in about 2cm of water which after about ten minutes was only slightly better than raw. Anyway, the whole process was a struggle and we were definitely getting laughed at by the staff and other diners but it was an experience anyway.

The threat of food poisoning makes the meal more enjoyable. Notice the egg cooking technique.


The following day was the start of my massage course. Sure enough, I was the only student and was presented with a workbook and a pencil. Wandee instructed me to lie on the mattresssed area, and started to massage me. Great, this was very relaxing and not much work at all! However, it was my turn next. I had to try and do the same sequence on Wandee with some bad sketches and some of my scribbled notes to help me. When I would put my hands in the wrong place she would grab my hands and put them in the correct place, and when I got it right she would make an ‘uuugh’ noise in approval. Her catchphrase was ‘strong and smooth’, and after a few hours of trying to maintain ‘strong and smooth’ my thumbs were aching and I was mentally drained from concentrating so much. But it was great to learn something new and at the end of the day I went back to meet Jonno and show him the techniques I had learnt. The next day continued in the same fashion, I learnt more of the sequence and then practiced it again and again. At the end of the second day Wandee said she thought it might be good for me to have a day off to take it in, and we would resume again the day after.

The next day was Sunday again, so after a relaxing morning we took another trip to the Sunday night market. We had been noticing that many of the hotels and buses in the area had signs up demanding that ‘no durian’ fruit is to be brought into the premises. This confused and intrigued us; why would a fruit be banned in certain areas? In amongst the other market stalls was a place that sold durian so we let our curiosity get the better of us and bought a small amount. It was wrapped in plastic, and when we unwrapped it we realised why it was not allowed in many places. The smell was foul, like rotting raw onion, and the taste was pretty similar- it had a mushy texture and tasted of creamy raw onion. I have no idea why anyone would choose to eat it, and after suffering a couple of mouthfuls each we threw it away. However, the aftertaste would not go away so we had the added torture of being able to taste it for hours afterwards. Definitely won’t be eating durian again in a hurry!

I returned the next day for my last three days of the massage course, and was joined by one other girl from Japan which meant we could practice the massage techniques on each other while Wandee adjusted and corrected us, and to show us where to put the pressure would every so often interject with a marker pen to draw lines on us (most of the time I forgot I was covered in pen and leave the school with red lines all over me). What I didn’t realise before is that the whole Thai massage sequence takes a long time. Most of the time it is shortened as most people don’t get more than an hour of massage, but from beginning to end it takes somewhere between 3 to 4 hours. It is hard work to go on for this long and wasn’t easy on my poor thumbs! On the last day as I was going through the whole sequence, a girl came into the school asking if she could have a massage for one hour. Wandee started as if she was going to ask the girl to come back later, and then changed her mind and turned to me and asked if I was able to do it. Even though I wasn’t feeling at all confident, I took up the challenge and went with some of the bits I knew better, and even though the feedback from the teacher was I should have ended it slightly differently, I did really well overall and the customer said it was great too. She handed over some money to Wandee at the end, who passed the money over to me. My first paying customer! It was only 2 pounds but that was enough to buy myself a celebratory drink that evening!

Look how tall I am! Last day of the massage course


We left Chiang Mai the next day, and got a minibus to Pai, a more rural town about 3 hours out of Chiang Mai. We had heard a lot of people raving about this place and wanted to see why. We arrived at the bus stop in the middle of the small high street, and soon found a cosy little bungalow for a decent price. We soon discovered that Pai is a smaller, more chilled out Chiang Mai but basically offers the same things. An abundance of restaurants, a few bars, a small night market and lots of travel agencies to book activities like trekking and elephant riding, the majority of it being for tourists. But we figured we would give it a couple of days as we needed to work out our plan from there.

Scenery in Pai


An advert for a restaurant and cooking school


With Jonno still not feeling too good, we took the opportunity of a few days in a chilled out place to relax and recooperate. We found an outdoor public swimming pool which was nice for a few hours, and the balcony on our bungalow was the perfect size for my yoga practice. When Jonno felt better we even went on a few runs together. We rented a scooter for one day as one activity that was recommended for Pai was to explore the surrounding areas, so off we set. After taking a few wrong turns and circling the town about three times, we came across a big Buddha statue, a fairly disappointing waterfall, a bleak china town area and a viewpoint with free green tea (which was not really free- there was an entrance fee) where one tourist was harassing a cat and tried to keep him from walking away by holding the scruff of his neck so she could get a nice picture. We also tried to get to another waterfall which was down a dirt track and when we parked up and saw the sign for the waterfall pointing directly into the river, we realised this maybe was a waterfall which was not accessible in the rainy season so had to give up on that idea. 

Definitely waterfall with caution


Another waterfall

Cat being held captive against its will for a photo



After a few restorative days and feeling a bit more energised, we decided we were ready to leave Thailand and continue our journey onto Laos. There were packages advertised by the travel agencies with combined bus and boat travel to Luang Prabang, one of the main cities in Laos, so we figured we might as well book that and take a few days on a slow boat down the Mekong river.
A nice way to spend a few hours

Our friend who we promptly un-friended when we saw he was into cannibalism..the dirty bastard



We left Pai the following day, took a minibus back to Chiang Mai where we changed minibus to take us to Chiang Khong where we stayed overnight. The bus had made a dinner stop at a fancy hotel/restaurant so we figured the accommodation which was included in the price ticket might be a treat, but when we arrived at the guest house at 1am we were greeted with a grubby room with extremely solid beds. We didn’t have much time to enjoy the filth though, as we had to get a few hours sleep before our 7am wake up and 8am departure. From there we were taken to the Thai-Laos border, waited around for a while for us and the rest of the group to sort out our visas and we had arrived in Laos!



Friday, 20 March 2015

Varanasi and Agra


The 17 hour train journey flew by, fortunately for us it was a proper overnight sleep without having to make sure we woke up for 4am or something silly. We got to wake up in a reasonable amount of time, a bed each. Luxury..!

We arrive in the morning and work out how best to get to our location. A rickshaw driver approaches us at the platform and offers to take us as close as possible to the hotel we have booked, and realising half way to his rickshaw he wanted more than we were paying in accommodation to get there, we quickly refused him and found another guy next to him asking for under a third of the first guy. We were on our way.

The traffic was actually a bit of a shock compared to what we had been used to recently. Gridlocked, nobody could move, even pedestrians struggled to get through the bumper-to-bicycle-wheel jam. But, eventually, we were dropped in the middle of nowhere and told we had to walk the rest of the way. We got out, assuming this was indeed the case, and walked on.

To be fair, we didn’t seen many more auto rickshaws up ahead, but there was definitely a road, so we can’t work out if he didn’t want to drive the last kilometre or there was an actual regulation in place (and if there were, it was the first time we’d seen anyone in India care about a traffic regulation). Once we’d cleared this area of road however, it was clear that no vehicle other than a bike would have had a chance of negotiating the narrow labyrinth of streets towards the Ghats. Our hotel was amongst these, and armed with my trusty inaccurate Google Map of the location we were headed, we soldiered on.

Narrow and full of bovine pals


Within seconds we were attracting all kinds of attention, one guy saying he had a hotel and trying to ask us to go to his. Once we confirmed to him we already had a hotel booked, called the Golden Palace, he looked disappointed, but in true Indian fashion proceeded to help us find it the fastest way possible, which was lucky as my map was saying we were a good distance away, but it turned out we were just around the corner. Once we got closer, signs were on every corner of the labyrinth, so fortunately finding our way back to it again after this point was very simple, even though on a couple of occasions we were unable to navigate certain roads due to people queueing up for temples.

We checked into our hotel, a tiny little stuffy room with a bathroom that did have hot water if you could work out which switch in the room operated the boiler, and made ourselves at home. Unfortunately at this point I was still battling with the remnants of my migraines, a strange drunken and disorienting feeling. Another feeling that isn’t ideal when trying to navigate narrow corridors of cows, people, dogs, excrement of all the above, and the occasional joker who decided their Royal Enfield was a perfect fit. I ended up spending a long while sleeping apparently, I don’t really remember this but I’m reliably informed this is the case by my incredibly patient and caring fiancĂ©e, and we wandered out in the evening, unfortunately too late for the evening ceremony that’s held on the Ghats daily, but we decided to explore anyway, and wanted to organise a boat trip for the morning.

After a short walk, the river Ganges was in clear sight. We walked down towards the large entrance to this main ghat off of the main road. Unfortunately this particular part of the story, at least for me, takes quite a downward turn from here. I am actually quite fortunate I am still able to tell this tale, as I honestly believe this moment of my life could have been my last.

As we walked down the ghat trying to take in the sights and bustle of what was going on, an elderly man stood and offered to shake my hand. Now, not being rude, and being quite used to this by this point of our trip as we’ve been heralded as minor celebrities due to our incredibly pale complexions, I took the hand of this gentleman in order to shake it. At this point, a vice-like grip took itself upon the fingers of my right hand. Unable to break free, his left hand begins to strongly and vigorously work up my currently trapped arm, in what some would refer to as a ‘massage’. Diana, looking upon the whole situation with a bemused smirk and nothing in the way of sympathy, did little to help me from my attacker.

Not content with the reckless assault on this arm, his snake like reflexes reach for and successfully capture my other hand. Before I know what’s going on, this arm is also being kneaded like freshly prepared chapatti dough. Figuring that I was now running out of arms, I planned my attempt at a ‘sincere’ thank you for this invasion of my appendages, ready to be on our way. Oh no. Not just yet. We’d only just begun.

Within seconds my entire being had been body slammed, face down onto an old cloth. It’s possible in the delirious stupor of my migraine postdrome that I was hypnotized into doing said action, I can’t fully remember, but my recollection of the attack was this elderly gentleman temporarily turned into a world class wrestler and forced me into said position.

At this point, I look up at Diana. She’s now talking with some lady who only spoke Hindi, her entire attention diverted away from my current state of emergency. Above me I could now tell an accomplice had joined, hands, or possibly large drills, boring down into my very soul via my back. I believe at this point, Hulk Hogan had begun removing my sandals. ‘This is it’ I thought to myself, ‘my time is up, and we’re right by the holy river ready for my cremation. Goodbye world’. The man speaks – “This is a full Ayurvedic massage! Very good for body and circulation!”. Yeah, right. I know a cannibal group when I see one.

God knows what was happening now, my arms and legs were being twisted out of all alignment, a vicious method of tenderisation began on my back muscles as I assumed I would become the main course for a hungry family of 6 in the morning. I tried to steal one last glance at Diana for her to come to my aide – no luck, she’s eating Rice Krispies out of the ladies scarf.

As my thighs and bum get viciously attacked, and Diana’s now being shouted at in a language where we can only just about understand ‘water’ and ‘how much’, I began to slip out of consciousness. My near lifeless body is flipped, and my face is now being aggravated. Accepting my fate, I lose all recognition of my current state. It felt like it was coming to an end, but I couldn’t care any less at this point, I was numb to it all.

Until the man began to speak. A disgusting abomination of a sentence, one that instantly made my blood boil and my fighting spirit return. “This costs 3000 rupees”. Over 30 British pounds for what some people get for free in Guantanamo Bay.

I leap to my feet, suddenly more alive than I had ever felt before.

“Excuse me? I only shook your hand! I didn’t ask to be physically assaulted!”
“Okay sir okay, 1500”
I look over at Diana, who at the mention of this obscene amount of money has realised the severity of my current affair. At the mere mention of 3000 rupees she had spat out her late night neckwear sourced breakfast cereal.
“No, not 1500, I didn’t want it at all”
“No problem no problem, 300!”
Attempting now to walk away - “No. Not 300.”
Wanting to get rid of them, we hold our 100 rupees to get them to leave us alone. They refuse, and say “Ok ok, no charge.”
About to walk away, another guy who didn’t seem to be involved in the process at all asked us for 150. Holding out just the 100 again, he scoffs and turns away. I also turned away, only to have him them ask for the 100 again. Handing it over, we attempt to get as far away from the Ghat as possible, but not before a man came over to fill Diana’s pashmina with her own puffed rice treats (This time with added chilies).

Some of you may think I’m over reacting. That I should have paid their demands. But you weren’t there. You weren’t there…
Anyway, we went onwards to a restaurant along the ghat and got a very cheap meal. Diana managed to offload her rice puffs onto a beggar who clearly wanted money but got what he was given. I spent the rest of the evening consoling myself that it would all be okay now, and getting through the 80rs of chai we got at the restaurant, that turned out to be around 10 cups of sweet caffeinated goodness.

Scarf pops avec chilli



On the way back we managed to find a place to book an early morning boat tour. Up at the crack of just-before-dawn, ready to get the boat for sunrise. Well, almost, it was a bit late and the sun was already coming up by the time we managed to sit in the vessel. We’re shown the different ghats, their purposes and some of the history. Half way along, we pull up alongside another ship in true pirate fashion and plunder their oarsman for our own, in a swap that was never really explained to us.

Here she comes!

Our new sailor friend took us to the burning ghats, about as close to them as possible without actually singeing our eyebrows off. This is where people are brought after death to be cremated and put into the River Ganges, in order to break the cycle of reincarnation and allow the soul to rest (or so I believe – if anyone has better information on this please let me know). It felt a bit too close for comfort, as if we shouldn’t be here and we were imposing a funeral, however nobody seemed to mind or say anything about it.

Preparing bodies for the cremation ceremony
A body being burned to be placed into the river

Knowing that we (the 4 of us foreigners in the boat) considered the river to be full of pollutants, including but not limited to toxic chemical wastes, human remains, animal remains, general plastics and food waste, our guide set about proving to us how clean the water actually is. Using the paddle to scoop the thick scum off the top, revealing the murky water below, he proclaimed “Look! You move this away and it’s clean!” We smiled and nodded, but I don’t think any of us fancied having a mouthful or wash amongst it, unlike some others we saw.

Cleanliness is next to godliness...

I didn't fancy joining in so much
Very little else occurred during the day, however we made plans to go see the ceremony that takes place every evening on the ghats. Whilst not entirely sure what the ceremony was for, but assuming the worship of ‘Mother Ganga’, it involved a lot of incense, flowers, fire and singing. Interesting, even with little idea what was actually going on.

Lassi''s made to order - chocolate and banana and an apple one. With a great view of bodies being carried to the burning ghat,

People everywhere for the late night ceremony, even filling up boats


After this we quickly dashed away before the masses of people could gather and make things difficult, and retired to a restaurant we had been to previously, and Diana had been to on a previous trip, that offered live music. Turns out, the live music is the same performer as the last time Diana had been 2 years ago, playing the same riff over and over. We didn’t buy a CD, but the food, which a guy spent a good 10 minutes describing and dressing up to sound as appealing as possible, was in fact amazing and one of the nicest we’d had in a long time.

Our next plan was to go to Rishikesh, however we’d been told we can’t just simply not see the Taj Mahal and should factor this in. Vaguely en route, we get an overnight train to Agra, sleeper class, which was conveniently timed to arrive at around 6am. This way, we could go straight there, see it, get back and hopefully be in time for one of the trains or coaches to Haridwar, worst case scenario going via New Delhi. We pack up our stuff and head to the main road from the narrow streets and are instantly flagged up by an old man with a cycle rickshaw. Bearing in mind we have quite a few KG of baggage, and two people, we looked at each other as if to ask if this was going to work. He seemed keen though, so we precariously balanced all our bags and our bodies onto the back of the rickshaw. Credit where due, he did very well until a very potholed uphill road struck out of nowhere, and he had to push the bike for the distance. Diana, worried we might be about to kill an old man, gave him a bottle of our water and more money than we originally agreed, and we were at the station.

A little rodent friend who kept trying to nibble through someone;s bag where we were sitting


The train journey started fairly uneventfully, until a group of guys got on and sat in our berth. For some reason, they seemed fascinated by me and made a big group, asking me all the normal questions we expect and others we’d not heard before, such as how much money I made. Eventually I managed to shoehorn Diana into the conversations, where it progressed to her showing one of the guys what music she listened to other than Hindi music, which both intrigued and terrified him. The train ticket inspector came around, and after a short discussion where people started getting up and sitting down again, left. One of the guys who was good at English explained they didn’t have a ticket for the train. Interestingly, this didn’t seem to matter too much. Eventually, after the guy who listened to the music offered to buy Diana’s earphones for 1000 rupees which worried her into thinking he may be serious, we settled down to sleep.

A somewhat disturbed sleep later, with mice and cockroaches scuttling along the carriage floor, I was awoken to find out the guys we were talking to were being kicked off, as the people who actually paid for those beds needed them, shouting ‘DINNER DARLING?’ at Diana as a last ditch attempt at a pick up line. Getting back to sleep again, just, we arrived in Agra around 2 hours later than we’d planned, but hoping our plan would still work out we took our bags to the luggage office at the station (Which was 24 hours but for some reason locked when we got there and nobody would let us in) and headed out to get a prepaid rickshaw to the Taj Mahal.

After working out where we were supposed to go as it was far less obvious than we expected, we got our ticket and our free little bottle of water and white shoe coverings and went to get our bags checked. Not wanting to leave our valuables in the luggage office, I had a backpack containing most of our electronics. The guy searched my bag and told me we can’t take a laptop in to the Taj Mahal, not sure why, but that was that. Trying to work out what we can do about it, we walked up the stairs again where a child insisted we could leave valuables at their shop for free, an obvious ploy to get us to go back there afterwards as everyone was trying incredibly hard to get us to buy their tat on the way there. So we head back to the queue, where we’re now told we can’t even have writing paper, and I still had another electronic item on me. The guard looked at me, laughed and let me in anyway. I’m not sure what the concern was, but I didn’t intend on threatening anyone with a paper cut or minor electric shock.

So we’re in, we’ve done it. In my honest opinion, it’s nice, it clearly took a long time to build and get perfect as we all know, as with most of the palaces and temples we’ve seen. But I’m not a massively architectural person, and with the sheer amount of tourists there all trying to get the best photo opportunities (which we ended up trying to do to some extent as we were there), there wasn’t a lot for me there. Had our whole trip been based around it I’d have been fairly disappointed. Still, obligatory tourist shots were taken, and it’s another one of the 7 crossed off. Worth seeing if you’re in the area, don’t get a trip to India just for it though in my opinion!

A photo you may have seen versions of before


There it be! 

That white girl was just as much of a tourist attracting as that white building



Realising if we didn’t hang around too long we could catch the next train, we make a mad dash back to the station, get a ticket (unreserved 10 hour journey – pray we get a seat!) and go gather our bags to prepare for the next long journey. 


Obligatory sitting-on-the-bench shot!