The Delhi Run Around...

Agra, India

August 21, 2007
N27°10.370
E078°02.480

Our plan was to get to Agra in order to enjoy the Taj Mahal at sunrise on Wednesday morning. Since we arrived in Delhi at 10:30 AM on Tuesday we figured this wouldn’t be a problem. We did our research in advance and knew of two ways to make the trip from Delhi to Agra—train or local bus.

Managing our way through the throngs of people in the airport we found our way to the tourist desk, the one recommended by Lonely Planet. The woman at the desk advised us a local train left the New Delhi station at 11:30 AM, 12:30 PM and 1:30 PM… perfect! After a few minutes of pidgin English regarding our destination with the cab driver we headed off to the New Delhi station, a little skeptical that things were going a little too smoothly.

The parking lot of the New Delhi train station was packed with cars, taxis, tuk-tuks and hundreds, if not thousands, of people. We saw the entrance to the train station and streamlined to it; ignoring the pleas from the homeless and hawkers. Perfect, we’ll make the train, no problem. At least that’s what we thought…

When we got to the entrance a man in a clean, white shirt (looking very official) asked us for our ticket. We politely explained we needed to buy one. He led us to an entrance that said “Do Not Enter” and said “that is where the tourist ticket office used to be, but now the tourist bureau has moved to Block N, about 1 KM up the road.” The man explained he would be happy to help us, a tuk-tuk within the walls of the train station is cheaper than one outside, he told us. Marc started to get in the tuk-tuk, but then kind of snapped, feeling he was getting the run around from these guys and his two or three buddies that had now gathered.

I was a few steps back and wasn’t really sure what was transpiring. All I heard was, “this is total bullshit” and Marc turned to me and told me to follow him. We quickly made our way back to the entrance of the train station. This time there was another man in a white shirt “guarding” the entrance; he explained since we were not Seikh we couldn’t enter to buy tickets from the local’s counter and the tourist ticket office was closed. Again, we were told we would need to visit a tourist office down the street. This was a slight variation to the first story, but we were getting the idea that we weren’t going to be allowed to enter the station. The man led us to back to the same group of tuk-tuks. Marc was furious at this point, realizing this was most likely a scam and reluctantly told the driver to take us to Block N. It was now close to 11:45 AM and our chances of catching an afternoon train were slipping away. We were never allowed into the New Delhi train station to investigate ourselves.

The tuk-tuk driver dropped us off at Block N, whatever that is, and we walked into the office with a hand painted sign out front that read “India Tourist Bureau.” As soon as we walked in a young man jumped up and was ready to help us. Marc looked at the kid and said in his most rude American accent, “I don’t have a lot of time so let’s make this quick.”

We sat down in the air conditioned make-shift office with walls about six feet high, a computer on the desk, and two chairs waiting for us. We explained to the kid that we needed two train tickets for Agra today. The kid told us the next train was at 1:30 PM; however it left from the Old Delhi train station (45 minutes away), not the New Delhi train station where we were. This is when Marc started to lose it; having flashbacks from his days at Visage Mobile. All we wanted was the next train to Agra… why are we getting a different story from everyone we talk to? We knew why, but it didn’t make us any less frustrated.

The kid appeared to check a few schedules on his computer before making a phone call with our request. He asked the “person” on the other end of the phone to call him back with information on two tickets, supposedly on any train, any class. We made idle chit-chat for a few minutes before the guy picked up his phone again (which didn’t ring). He explained there weren’t any seats available on any trains for the day. He went on to tell us that he doubted there were any seats available on the train for the following day. Oh crap... this was supposed to be easy and now we began to see where this was going.

Marc, his voice still elevated, asked about a bus. The kid told us the buses aren’t safe and he wouldn’t even take one himself. We were in a bind… we pre-paid for two nights at a hotel in Agra and we planned on seeing the Taj at sunrise—one of the best ways to see it (sunset and full moons are also nice). We asked for our other options since this was the “India Tourist Bureau.”

This is when Marc really started to lose it. The guy told us the only way to get to Agra today was by private car. Marc looked through the kid and asked how much it would cost. When the kid reached for his calculator Marc scolded him and said, “You know exactly how much it will cost, put away your calculator, I don’t need your act!” The kid was shocked and tried to explain there were taxes and he had to add up the cost. Marc replied, “Then you’re not very good at your job.”

The price (derived without the calculator) pissed Marc off even more. He tried to get up and say he was going back to the train station, but he knew he would probably only go through the routine for a third time. We quietly discussed the pros and cons of staying in Delhi for the night and trying to take a train in the morning. We will be out the money for the room, we will have to pay a lot more for a room in Delhi, we will miss sunrise, etc.

Reluctantly, feeling totally screwed because we’re tourists, we agreed to a private car. Our driver would take us to and from Agra (200 KM away), drive us around in Agra, provide a guide for the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort and take us to any other sites we requested. Fifteen minutes later we were in “our” car and on the way to Agra, feeling totally defeated.

We’re fine paying a little more for entrance fees into sites as a foreigner, we expect it, maybe even paying a little more for a train ride, but we do not like getting five different answers from five different people and succumbing to paying more because we aren’t given any other options. We actually showed the kid a section in Lonely Planet that warns travelers to be wary of train station scams. One example outlined our exact situation. The kid read the section, looked at us and almost apologetically explained that we need to understand things work differently here (India). Yes, we obviously understand.

We were still furious when we got in the car. However, after two hours into the five hour drive, we enjoyed the scenery along the road including camels pulling carts of sugar cane, cows wandering aimlessly among the traffic, dogs sleeping in the middle of the highway, and bicyclists recklessly darting in and out of moving cars, tuk-tuks and buses.

When we got closer to Agra our driver pulled off to show us Akbar’s Mausoleum. The sun was just setting; the rays striking the sandstone ancient structure, perfectly illuminating the various shades of red. We both took a lot of pictures and enjoyed the park like setting within the mausoleum walls. Monkeys, deer, peacocks and chipmunks roamed around the lush green lawn that extended out into a row of trees. As we strolled through the grounds we realized if we were on a bus or train right now we wouldn’t be here at sunset…

The incident in Delhi became a distant memory and we were again reminded that the Universe is perfect and there’s a reason for everything that happens.