Set off from Dehli at the crack of dawn for a 4.5-hour car ride with two fellow Swedes and a Dutch journalist.
Our Indian chauffeur had an aggressive style of driving, constantly honking the horn and literally jerking the car forward by quick switches between full gas and slamming the brakes. Sleeping and reading was thus out of the question. Instead I leaned back to let my mind wander off while looking out the window.
I enjoyed watching the Indian sub-urban life pass by outside as the sun was coming up; children going to school, traffic intensity picking up, cows strolling in the middle of the buzzing activity, people going to the toilet on the fields next to the highway for everyone to watch (and probably smell), dogs and pigs eating from piles of rubbish. It was dirty, busy and ugly, yet fascinating.
I had gotten a bit lazy and signed up for an organized tour to Taj Mahal, including transportation, guide and a lunch buffet. The backpacker inside me cringed at the thought of being herded around the monument like a flock of sheep and spending all day being completely shielded from the reality around us, but at the sight of Taj Mahal, it did not matter anymore how I got there. I was just excited to be there.
Taj Mahal is said to be one of the most beautiful buildings in the world, and it did indeed take my breath away. It was so pure, radiant and perfect.
The ride back to Dehli felt like an eternity. Nine hours in one day with Indian driving definitely put both my patience and stomach to the test.
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