Getting Aggravated in Agra

Other than the Taj Mahal and bridesmaid Agra Fort, I wasn’t very impressed with the rest of Agra or its atmosphere. From the second I stepped off the train, I had to fend off relentlessly persistent rickshaw-wallahs, tour guides, post card vendors, photographers and touts. I had an endless stream of people following me around trying to sell me something, take me somewhere or show me their uncle’s jewelry shop. It’s no wonder celebrities often punch paparazzi in the face; it’s damn tiring being hassled all day long.

I’m also an easy target because I’m clearly foreign and a woman traveling alone. And because of this second point, I am always extra alert and mindful, almost to the point of paranoia sometimes. An acquaintance in Delhi helped me plan my trip to Agra and Jaipur, and she had arranged for me to pick up a bus ticket to Jaipur from a travel agency in Agra. I thought I would go there as soon as I arrived so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it later, not thinking that it was only 8:15 a.m. My rickshaw driver, however, had other plans. He took me to the street I requested, but instead of turning into the strip of commercial shops where the travel agency would likely be, he turned down a dodgy road that led to an even dodgier looking house that would probably crumble to bits if you touched it. There were about five men hanging around the house. He said, “This is it. It’s closed. Open at 10.” My red flag had gone up the second we turned down the driveway. “No. This is not right. Please just take me to the Taj Mahal.” I had to insist this several times until he turned around. All the way to the monument, he tried to convince me to hire him for the day. He even showed me a little book that people had written in about what a great guide he was. I could not have jumped out of the rickshaw faster as soon as I saw the entrance to the Taj Mahal area.