Delhi & Agra, India

When I said we were travelling to Delhi, people asked the same question, including those who actually live there: “Have you been before? It’s a lot.” And they were right. But it was a lot in the very best way: a lot of incredible food, a lot of stunning architecture, a lot of noise, colour, vibrance, and a very warm welcome to India.

We landed at Delhi airport early and took the metro into New Delhi station. After a smooth journey, we slung on our bags and headed for the station exit – our hotel looked like it was just a short walk away. Perhaps lulled into a false sense of security, we walked out of the station and into complete chaos. It was boiling hot, the air was thick and we were instantly surrounded by a cacophony of beeping tuk-tuks, people shouting and general mass confusion. Plan A was to cross a footbridge to get to our hotel, but we were stopped and asked for our ticket – so we did an about-turn. Plan B was to find an alternative route on my phone, only for someone to immediately come over and tell me to put my phone away or it’d get snatched. It was time to activate plan C: hide in a corner, memorise a route from Google Maps, and walk purposefully through the crowds. After battling through what must have been the station car park, we crossed a wide road bridge lined with drying cow pats, and finally arrived at the relative haven of our hotel in Paharganj.

We had limited time in Delhi. That evening we were meeting my friend Nidhish for dinner, but first we had a day to explore the city. Nidhish himself, a lifelong resident of Delhi, had told us to leave the city as soon as possible and explore the rest of India as it was ‘much better’.

So, in a whirlwind trip, we first visited the Red Fort, which was exactly as it sounds, and a very impressive example of Mughal architecture. We had a look about the fort complex, getting used to the sights, smells and sounds of India, before hopping in a tuk-tuk to visit the India Gate, a Lutyens-designed memorial to the soldiers killed in the First World War. As we drew closer, the Gate came into view through the haze and showed just how polluted Delhi is. It was particularly bad when we were there, so we often wore face masks. A few years ago this would have been a novelty, but weirdly it just felt like slipping back into familiar covid habits.

For lunch, we’d seen several recommendations for a restaurant called Karim’s. Getting there, however, was not simple. Karim’s was tucked away behind a market street just by the Jama Masjid mosque, which meant navigating crowds comparable to the headline set at Glastonbury. People running late for Friday prayers were careering towards the mosque in haphazard fashion, running, jumping and hurtling through the crowds on foot and on beeping mopeds. We worked our way along the street, dodging the hot exhausts of the mopeds, until we eventually found the restaurant. There we snagged a corner table and tucked in to some excellent chicken, while the other diners looked on with amusement at two clueless white people trying to eat chicken with their hands.

The highlight of our time in Delhi was easily the evening when we met my friend Nidhish, his wife Preeti and his daughter Pihu for a delicious south Indian feast. We got a taxi to Dasaprakash restaurant in Connaught Place, and we had a lovely evening hearing stories of Nidhish’s life in India, learning about the food, the culture, Hinduism and lots more. It was a warm, generous welcome to India, and we went to bed with full stomachs and warm hearts.

Next morning we rose early and got our first India Railways train to our first big stop of the Indian leg of the trip: Agra, home to the Taj Mahal. We checked into our little guest house before getting a tuk-tuk out to dinner – our guesthouse had a resident tuk-tuk driver, a friendly chap called Mukhul, and he suggested we eat at the Salt Café. When we arrived the waiters were very keen for us to sit on the rooftop, but it was very humid and the air was still quite polluted in Agra, so we opted for the cooler air-conditioned room a floor below. It was only when we were trundling back to the guesthouse with Mukhul that he asked how we’d liked the view. Turns out we’d turned down a panoramic night view of the Taj Mahal for one of a blank wall.

Luckily, we had dedicated the next day to visiting the Taj Mahal. We got up before dawn, and Mukhul drove us through the dark, deserted streets of Agra before dropping us a couple of roads from the entrance. We walked a few hundred yards, wondering if this really was the way, before the surroundings started looking more official, and the ticket gates came into view.

We were accidentally visiting on Indian National Monument Day, so there was no fee, but also surprisingly little in the way of a crowd. From the ticket gate it was just a short walk to the first view of the Taj Mahal – and despite everything you’ve seen in photos, it’s so, so much more impressive in real life. A mist was rising from the river, and the whole place was quiet and almost contemplative. It’s a staggeringly beautiful sight. To be honest, I’m nearly welling up as I type this. It was magical.

With the grounds still quiet with the dawn (National Monument Day was clearly a flop), we walked slowly around the building, amazed by how equally beautiful it was up close. I didn’t know how incredibly intricate and delicate the Taj Mahal would be; it’s inlaid with thousands of semi-precious stones in white marble, which sparkled as they caught the morning light. Every so often a swirl of mist rolled in to shroud the Taj Mahal, before wafting by and revealing another view. It was absolutely magnificent from every angle.

We sat for a couple of hours, just looking at the Taj Mahal and drinking it all in. It was here where Nicola met what would be the first of many of her many adoring fans. Nicola is blonde, which is still something of a novelty in India – even, surprisingly, in the places that are quite well-visited by tourists like the actual Taj Mahal. At one point a woman came up and handed us her baby, and before we knew what was going on we were having a full photoshoot with a little baby who was equally clueless as to what was going on. If you ever see it pop up on Instagram, please let me know. As the grounds got busier, we bid farewell to the Taj and headed out for some breakfast, before meeting Mukhul to head out to explore a little more of Agra.

To be completely honest, there’s not much more in Agra. Well, there probably is, but none of it is as impressive as the Taj Mahal. We saw the ‘Baby Taj’, officially the Tomb of I’timad-ud-Daulah, which is a smaller version and inevitably overshadowed by the full size one. We also went to an ‘exclusive viewpoint’ of the Taj Mahal across the river. Probably a great viewpoint, but given that we’d already been in that morning, it doesn’t seem entirely necessary.

That evening, India were playing in the Cricket World Cup Final, so we headed out to a restaurant to soak up some of the atmosphere. Only there wasn’t any, as India were beaten quite comprehensively. Mukhul ended up crying into his steering wheel on the way home, which was unexpected. Back at our homestay we packed our bags as we had an early train the next morning.

When booking our trains around India, I’d spent a lot of time speaking with Nidhish, who was incredibly helpful in telling us which trains to catch, and helping to navigate the railway booking system. It’s somehow both very complicated and very simple. There are nine different classes, and every train has its own number. There are waiting lists, seat confirmations, and a whole host of unofficial apps to help you navigate the network. Some trains travel for three days and build up delays along the way, so Nidhish advised that we go for the ones that are starting nearer our starting point. 

Over the course of a few weeks, the only train that was even slightly delayed was the one between Agra and our next destination, Sawai Madhopur. This particular train was coming from a state so far away that we could already see it would be delayed by at least a couple of hours the next morning – giving us a perfect chance to lie-in after a busy day exploring Agra.

The next morning, after bidding farewell to Mukhul, we boarded the 19038 Avadh Express to our next destination: Ranthambore National Park.