The 2966 Gwalior Express to Agra

Our train originated in Udaipur, meaning we could board early and, being the first passengers aboard, our sleeper car was not yet a mess. We pulled away at 10:21pm - close enough for government work (ex-Japan!). Soon the lights were off, and competing for my attention were snoring and farting passengers, and the rhythm of rattling windows, wheels clacking against their tracks. Late into the night, the chai-wallah tune lingered, submerging itself in my nocturnal thoughts. The upper berth in ‘sleeper class’ is like the padded, plastic bench in a doctor’s office, a windowless perch up among caged fans and flickering, fluorescent bulbs – not glamorous, but a cozy nook of personal space. At first light, the rail car metamorphosed, shawls drawing back, revealing children curled into their parents like marsupials. A sample of India came to life, through the window of my upper berth.



The sight of the Taj Mahal was humbling. It’s one of those wonders that imprints your life experience, your sense of what’s incredible. The Taj reminded me of Machu Picchu, although I found its detail and overall beauty far more exquisite. Above, a pre-dawn sweeper is bathed in twilight before the daily swarm of tourists arrives. (Liberal tourons have spoiled Agra, at least the bit within a 10km radius of the Taj. It was here, for the first time since Tanzania, that grown men and women, not the desperate ones, have tossed aside their pride to beg me for money, for which the only explanation can be careless charity on the part of foreigners. But escape the sphere of tourism, and India faithfully returns to its pleasant self.)



For some adventure on our last evening in Agra, Matt and I picked out a five-storey building near the mosque at Agra Fort Station to gain a favorable perspective of sunset. The standard strategy (‘waltz through like you own the place’) worked like a charm, and we took to the roof in less than two minutes, scrambling up a tattered bamboo ladder to the highest tier of concrete and exposed rebar. Such side trips are part of the fun of traveling, as there’s no way we could get away with such a shenanigan back home.