When we last saw our intrepid travelers, they were in
sweltering Mumbai, living in roach and gecko infested
apartments that occasionally had air conditioning. Now they
reside in a beautiful, deliciously cold hotel in the Hottest
Place on Earth: unstruck-by-monsoons Delhi in mid-June.
How did they come to be here? Let us start at the beginning…
This morning (although it does not seem like the same day, it is still, in fact, Monday) we arose with the sun. Actually, about an hour ahead of the sun, which does not come up until 5 am or so. Having packed the day before (most of us, anyway), all that was needed was to take our luggage downstairs and load it onto the bus. In a moment oddly unsuited for the feel of the rest of our trip, the elevators actually WORKED and we did not have to walk our suitcases down 20 flights of stairs. I think we made up for this blessing later.
We drove to the airport (the international one first because the driver hadn’t been given proper instructions, then the domestic one; this was more like the India we knew) and checked in for our flight. We walked outside the terminal, got on a bus and drove from here to ————— there – a distance which would have taken less time to walk than it did to ride, and boarded the plane just as the rain started. I had joked, in the days previously when rain seemed more and more eminent, that it would not rain until we left Mumbai, just out of spite. This, however, was far too literal. After getting a good laugh at the timeliness of the precipitation, we were seated. This is the sight that greeted us:
On the way to Agra, where we are spending the night, we stopped at Fatehpur Sikri – a capital city built by Emperor Akbar. It was very beautiful (see below) and the tour guide was amazing.