arrived Agra Fort
I like AC2 (2nd class AC), I decided. You definitely see more of the ordinary people, and things are reasonably secure: my main concern. Only problem I had was figuring out how to get food, once I figured out it was (of course) available for sale. The Meals on Wheels folks would come through so quickly, calling out what they had... in Hindi. It was also apparently possible to order lunch and dinner, though I didn't manage either. Thankfully I had some -- albeit snack -- food with me.
The crowding -- six people to a section, with curtains to block you off from the narrow corridor -- really wasn't bad. Space was well used.
Woke this morning to the train running seven minutes behind schedule: not bad. It increased gradually over the course of the day (I'd downloaded a schedule to my mobile phone) till it was two hours forty minutes late out of the last stop before Agra. Then we magically made time up, because we were scheduled with three hours to go the remaining 122 km. For a while I thought we'd just be an hour late. But four kilometers out we sat and waited for 10-15 minutes, then crawled the rest of the way in. So we arrived about an hour forty minutes late.
The exit from the station was not obvious -- you'd think it would be. I ended up going down a very long very dark alley. (I could have tried sneaking through a locked but mostly broken gate, which would have been much quicker, but it would have been awkward with my baggage.) Agra Fort was beautifully lit up; I should have taken a picture, but I was waiting for a better view, and a better view never came. Saw a hotel with a neon sign through cracks between the buildings; I made for that, as I had no enthusiasm to get a taxi ride anywhere despite having taken down a list of hotels, addresses, and phone numbers from the Swedish gentleman's LONELY PLANET.
Yes, Tropp: he lives in Stockholm, originally from a small town north of Hässleholm. He came on at Allahabad and, like me, was planning a stopover in Agra before flying out from Delhi back to Sweden. We spoke in Swedish for a while till I wasn't sure how to say something, then slipped inevitably into English. He'd come on board with a ticket for 2nd class non-AC and took the opportunity to upgrade -- which I can appreciate. It's not that the AC itself is all that important, but the AC cars are, I think, in generally much better shape. Anyway, he'd lived and worked in southern India some time back, but he'd never really seen northern India, so the present ten-day trip meant to remedy that. He wasn't actually meant to be in our section; he swapped bunks with a young woman I was happy to get rid of :-) as she talked, and giggled, incessantly. She had a friend with her, so there were three of us sitting in a space normally meant for two -- but that giggling, oh man!
The crowding -- six people to a section, with curtains to block you off from the narrow corridor -- really wasn't bad. Space was well used.
Woke this morning to the train running seven minutes behind schedule: not bad. It increased gradually over the course of the day (I'd downloaded a schedule to my mobile phone) till it was two hours forty minutes late out of the last stop before Agra. Then we magically made time up, because we were scheduled with three hours to go the remaining 122 km. For a while I thought we'd just be an hour late. But four kilometers out we sat and waited for 10-15 minutes, then crawled the rest of the way in. So we arrived about an hour forty minutes late.
The exit from the station was not obvious -- you'd think it would be. I ended up going down a very long very dark alley. (I could have tried sneaking through a locked but mostly broken gate, which would have been much quicker, but it would have been awkward with my baggage.) Agra Fort was beautifully lit up; I should have taken a picture, but I was waiting for a better view, and a better view never came. Saw a hotel with a neon sign through cracks between the buildings; I made for that, as I had no enthusiasm to get a taxi ride anywhere despite having taken down a list of hotels, addresses, and phone numbers from the Swedish gentleman's LONELY PLANET.
Yes, Tropp: he lives in Stockholm, originally from a small town north of Hässleholm. He came on at Allahabad and, like me, was planning a stopover in Agra before flying out from Delhi back to Sweden. We spoke in Swedish for a while till I wasn't sure how to say something, then slipped inevitably into English. He'd come on board with a ticket for 2nd class non-AC and took the opportunity to upgrade -- which I can appreciate. It's not that the AC itself is all that important, but the AC cars are, I think, in generally much better shape. Anyway, he'd lived and worked in southern India some time back, but he'd never really seen northern India, so the present ten-day trip meant to remedy that. He wasn't actually meant to be in our section; he swapped bunks with a young woman I was happy to get rid of :-) as she talked, and giggled, incessantly. She had a friend with her, so there were three of us sitting in a space normally meant for two -- but that giggling, oh man!