Fatephur Sikri for the Jama Masid and Palaces

The alarm woke us early and we left our bags in 'left luggage'-the open computer room and took an auto-rickshaw to the Idgah Bus Station for a bus to Fatehpur Sikri, 40km from Agra. It is a walled city with a Jama Masid and palaces which were built by Akhbar (the architect of the Taj Mahal) as a new city after it was prophecised here that his son-less wife would have a son.

The bus was already waiting in the station and the tout outside it said "half an hour". Ok so we went to find some breakfast. Sam had some fried dough with curry and I got a packet of biscuits as I really wasn't hungry. We sat and waited on the bus and read the newspaper and an hour later we were on the way. It only took an hour to get there and as soon as the bus stopped a 'guide' was stood outside the door offering us "free entrance" to the palaces which should be 260Rs each. We kindly declined his offer the first time but by the 4th and 5th refusals I was somewhat less kind simply saying "No" and walking away. A stream of people tried to lead us to various places claiming that it was the Jama Masid of the palace, after getting rid of one man in the market and some
kids after they tried to lead us up a back alley away from the Jama Masid, we followed a path that we could see led to the main entrance of something- a giant gate. We left our shoes with the shoe wallah despite some children's pleas to go with them as we would have to pay for our shoes here. The thought of a fine or imprisonment for the sake of a 260Rs ticket didn't seen like a worthwhile gamble I'm afraid. Inside the beautiful gateway was a large courtyard with a white marble tomb in front of us, some little tombs to the right of it and a red sandstone mausoleum in the back centre. A man had attached himself to Sam within seconds of stopping to admire the buildings claiming that he worked for the complex and would take us around for free. I said that I wasn't interested and walked off expecting Sam to follow me but he didn't so I had a look around by myself and Sam found out a few interesting facts interspersed with lots of stops at stalls to buy things. At one stall the man tried to sell a 'holy cloth' for rs1000 which he didn't have much luck selling after Sam asked if that is the same price that the locals pay, when the man said "yes" Sam pointed out that the average weekly wage of 90% of Indians was 1000Rs so that was unlikely. I found Sam just as the man put the 'holy cloth' down, I would have loved to see his face when Sam told him the facts! He then took us to 'his stall' and tried to sell us a soapstone elephant (which we didn't want so no matter what his "good price" was we weren't going to buy it!). Once he was sure that we weren't going to buy anything he then asked Sam for money for taking him around but Sam rightfully didn't give him any as he had said he would do it for free! Sufficed to say he wasn't happy an left in a huff. We then had a peaceful look around by ourselves and inside the marble mausoleum was a room with a canopy over a tomb decorated with the most exquisite mother of pearl. It was dazzling. We stood to the side as families came in with holy cloths, held them over
the tomb whilst the priest said a prayer then laid it on the tomb and left. I wonder if the 'holy men' sell the cloths back to the sellers as they surely have no use for them! We collected our shoes from outside and paid the wallah for dropping some of his lunch onto my shoe before making the short journey across to the palace. Some kids tried to sell us postcards but when we said no then asked if they could have our used tickets when we come out, we said OK as we thought it was a strange but innocent request-obviously not..

We bought tickets from the lovely man who was in a really good mood and very jovial then it was less than 2 seconds before a guide made his attack-they move with lightning speed and the stealth of a tiger! We had decided that we did want a guide so checked his English before agreeing to a one hour tour for 125Rs. He was really knowledgeable about the place, showing us the summer and winter horse stables, the different architecture on the palaces of Akbar's three wives, one Hindu, one Muslim and one Christian and also pointing out good photo spots as it was too hot to think for ourselves! My favourite bits that I can remember from the blistering heat were the game that Akbar played which was an ancient form of Ludo with real girls and Akbar's palace which he made in a few levels, each story made only 5'0" high as this was his height and when other kings came to visit him it meant that they had to bow their heads to him. We were baked by the time our hour was up and at the end the guide asked if he could keep our tickets for giving to children to take to school for the pictures (my arse they did) but Sam gave them anyway. The kid outside that had asked for them wasn't happy when we walked back past empty handed and said that we were bad people, so I returned the comment that he was a bad boy. After a few minutes when he realised that we weren't joking and didn't have them he faded into the distance as we walked down a little dirt track behind the palace to look at the tomb of Akbar's favourite execution elephant. If a criminal was put before the elephant, he would sniff him and if he thought him guilty he would crush him. After this little excursion we were hungry so had lunch in a nice little restaurant where Sam had navaratna curry (nine vegetables). We found the bus back to Agra sat where we had left it this morning and it had it's engine running so we thought that our luck was in, 15 minutes of diesel burning later we set off back to Agra. The swarm of auto touts wasn't as severe on our arrival and we found one who asked a reasonable amount so we took it. A taxi driver appeared as we had asked earlier if we can get a bus to Tundla Junction for our train and he offered to pick us up from our hotel at 6 and take us there. Fine. We wrote some blog in the hotel through a giant thunderstorm in which the sky turned dark yellow before the rain stopped and we took a cycle-rickshaw to the rooftop restaurant near the Taj Mahal for a last look before our train tonight. A large group of Indian people were just heading up to the rooftop as we arrived so we ordered 2 cups of chai and made our way up. The Taj looked even more spectacular today that the day before yesterday which we didn't think was possible. The sky was yellowy grey and the milky yellow colour of the Taj had been brought out by the rain which had also washed the dust off! It shone in the hazy light. We stood and listened to the Muslim call to prayer from the mosque at the West gate, drank chai and marveled at the Taj Mahal. We are really here.

The taxi never came to take us to Tundla Junction for the train so we got a an auto then a bus. It all went smoothly and we were over an hour early for the train. We had dinner at the station, were pestered by a persistent beggar and Sam wound up a monkey by hissing at it so it dropped its chapati and got ready to pounce, only when a man from the fruit stall came over with his monkey and beggar beating stick did it run away. The train arrived on time and we settled down for a short night on the train.