A Bumpy Ride

On the way into town from the train station, my rickshaw driver, in the interest of getting himself another fare, talked on and on about this place called Mehtab Bagh, which is a park across the Yamuna with great views of the Taj Mahal. I had absolutely zero intention of hiring him to take me there, but it was good to know about.

Of course, once I got settled in and really did want to go out to Mehtab Bagh, I now had to find a way to get there. As all of you have probably learned from this blog, the getting there is at least 70% of any experience in India. Wandering a few blocks from my hotel I found a cycle-rickshaw. [As I said yesterday in my post about my perfect day in Delhi, cycle rickshaws are my favorite way to get around an Indian city.]

"How much to Mehtab Bagh?"

"100 rupees there and back," according to the driver, Lalu. Rickshaw wallahs are always keen to take you somewhere they know you'll be a long time, and then charge you more than double so they can sit around smoking bidis and be guaranteed another fare after that nice break.

After a long lecture about how there are no rickshaws over at Methab Bagh to bring me back (riiiiight...), it will get dark soon, it's not safe, blah blah blah, I agreed. I seldom have the energy to get into all-out bidding wars with rickshaw dudes, because it tends to not actually save you much money. You'll eventually arrive at a fare 10 or 20 rupees shy of what they wanted in the first place, saving you a grand total of like 50 cents, max. If you have any chance of a much lower fare, he'll agree right away.

So I climbed up and we were off. On a map, Mehtab Bagh looks very close to my guesthouse just a few blocks from the Taj. I figured it would be 2 seconds away and I was an idiot for paying so much and agreeing to the "there and back" scheme.

We left the backpacker hotels and souvenir shops of Taj Ganj and coasted through the winding streets of the old city, past madrasas, bazaars, and crumbling havelis. Men lounge on charpoys, alternately spitting tobacco and sipping tea fro disposable-yet-eco-friendly terra cotta cups. Women draw water from street corner hand pumps which pour into stainless steel amphorae the women somehow manage to cart home on their heads. The call to evening prayer comes from a thousand directions -- there are as many mosques in this part of Agra as there are churches in small-town Mississippi.

We passed a tractor. Then a bullock cart. Then a convoy of camels. This is India at its most scenic, the stuff that makes you want to come here in the first place. OK, so it seemed Mehtab Bagh isn't as close as I thought. Well, that's fine, makes me feel like less of a newb. I'm along for the ride and loving it.

And then we came to the bridge. From afar it looked just like any bridge over any river. Then we actually got on it. It's studded with potholes -- for the first time, I wished rickshaws had seatbelts. I stupidly looked down and notice that some of the potholes were so serious that I could see the river through them. I white-knuckled the arm rests, thanking god that this rickshaw had armrests. It's as scary as my annual spin on the Cyclone roller coaster at Coney Island, except scarier beacause it's not on purpose. Visions of travel insurance danced through my head. It occurs to me that I'm going to have to do this again coming back. I curse my agreement to ride back with Lalu. Maybe I can just pay him and then hitch a ride in someone's taxi.

Finally crossing the bridge, we headed through a slightly newer part of the city, which gradually transitioned into the slums that line the flood plain of the Yamuna. Jubilantly grimy kids gave chase, calling, "Hello! You give one rupee! Hello! You give one school pen! Hello! You give one chocolate!" I would happily hand over an entire Office Depot worth of Bics if I thought it would help them. I want to smuggle them back to the US in my luggage and give them a real roof, three meals a day, and an education.

The kids fell back as we approached the park. Lalu parked the rickshaw and stalked off in search of paan. I took a right down a wooded path and there it is. The Taj Mahal. It's so beautiful I decided it was definitely worth it, and not only that, I'd be fine riding back over the bridge in Lalu's rickshaw.