Seventh Wonder of the World

I arrived in Agra on a steamy, smoggy night. After finding a place to stay just a few blocks from the Taj Mahal, I scaled the narrow stairwell and climbed to the roof of the hotel to catch a glimpse of one of the seven wonders of the world. The moon was nearly full and it's light struggled to penetrate the smog and touch the marble of the monument. As inspiring as the moment was, it was interrupted by an obnoxious blaring loudspeaker which polluted the air with an Indian women squeeling a traditional song. I guess it must have been some local holiday and they had installed loudspeakers all over the city, which blasted annoying noises until nearly midnight. I still have yet to aquire the taste for traditional Indian music.


The next day I decided to get a closer look at the Taj. Believe it or not, I was able to sit on the same bench that George W. Bush, Bill Clinton an many other US presidents sat when they came to see the Taj Mahal. The Indians all refer to President Bush as "the fighter", but President Clinton's nickname isn't much better: "the lover".

After spending a few hours walking around and admiring the architecture, I decided to see what else I could see in Agra. I went the "baby taj", which slightly resembles the Taj Mahal, except the guy building it didn't have a woman to impress, so he cut some corners, made it a lot smaller and didn't use any pricey marble. I actually enjoyed the "baby Taj" more, because no crowds come to see it and I was able to peacefully watch the water buffaloes swimming in the mosltly dried up river basin.

The rest of my time in Agra was spent with my drunk auto rickshaw driver taking me to his friends' stores where I was nearly forced to by unwanted carpets, marble tabletops, and gemstones. Upon saying I was not interested for the 100th time the salespeople realized that I might not be interested. They usually got upset for a moment before allowing me to leave their store. The only good thing was that I usually got a free glass of water and it was a lot cooler inside than out.

I also experienced my first taste of McDonald's in India with the Maharaja Chicken Mac. Although the name sounds rather appetizing, the burger is a deadly combination of curry, veggie-chicken paddies and a repugnant, unknown orange substance. Word of the wise--when eating at McDonalds in India stick with the Filet-o-fish or McChicken-- anything else is certain trouble.

Overcoming the suffocating heat and annoying salesmen was a bit of a struggle, but seeing the Taj Mahal was everything I hoped and dreamed it would be, so I must give Agra a 9 of 10.