A day in Bahrain, United Arab Emirates ( U.A.E. )

I woke up early, too early for some unknown reason, and checked my cellphone for the time only to find that it had eeriely drained itself of charge overnight and needed to be recharged. Once I did this I then found my watch and realised it was not even 5am and so certainly worth going back to sleep for another couple of hours.

My second attempt for waking up was a much more personally acceptably time of around 8am, which was perfect as it meant that I could have breakfast and then plan the day ahead, which with local friends, a map and the internet should have been quite easy but it would seem that Bahrain is suffering that all too familiar 'not really set up for tourists' problem.

There are a few forts and museums that might appeal, but only if you sign up for one of those all day tours as they are spread out quite far and wide apart, and the kingdoms water park is about as south as you can go and on the map there is nothing else lower down that is labelled so I am guessing it is all just dessert, roads and occasional industrial or housing projects.

I am a bit curious to find out how many people currently live here as everywhere I look they are building huge multi story apartment and office blocks, yet on the street I have yet to pass a crowd or even a large group of people to make them seem necessary.

Together A' and I worked out a vague plan that we would visit the National Museum first and then after that possibly go to a fort, or to a mall before heading back for lunch, it would have been a bit more exciting but of course we would be taking along her young daughter which limits things a bit, plus I dont drive, there is no public transport system ( there are only a very few people here and those who are here all seem to drive ! ) and getting a taxi everywhere is not my idea of value for money, especially in a country that has as stronger currency that England.

Yes, for the first time here I dont have to try and divide the currency by any number or fraction to try and get back to English money for an equivalent value, here you simply double it.

Around 11am we made our way over to the museum which was very well laid out but the first few rooms seemed to be more about paying homage and respect to their kings, with info boards and photos everywhere, and not so much about the actual place itself. Thankfully later rooms did go into detail about the history and culture of the land and had relics and articacts dating back about five thousand years, with mention of its legends written down in Mesopotamia 2000 BC.

As always, I am never 100% certain of the accuracy of facts but if the info boards are true then it would appear that Noah had a rival in the Arc building department by a fellow of the name of Ziusudra who also happened to be the only person left alive and was the preserver of plants and animals alike.

There was also plenty about their customs of births, marriages and death which were a little foreign to me, like your cousin being the first logical choice for your husband or wife, but again they were all displayed very neatly and made some sense when I stopped to think about it.

The only downfall of the museum was that it was a little empty, like they were expecting to have many more exhibits to show and so built it bigger than it realy needs to be, but then here space is not at such a premium as in other countries so I guess they can build it as large as they want.

As the sun had come out again and chaced the mornings dark clouds away we decided it would be a good opportunity to visit one of the kingdoms few archaeological sites, Arad Fort, which seemed to be quite important when I was researching it but upon arrival I couldnt understand how as it was so very small, looking more like a fortified watch post than anything more than anything else.

However, despite its small stature, in the sun it did look great and I had plenty of fun taking pictures from various angles. The place was free to visit which was nice, but as it was empty except two security guards around there was no place to buy drinks, souveneirs, postcards or even to guide you around and so it felt like this place was far more remote and hidden away than it actually is.

Ten minutes later we were back in the taxi where we headed off to the local mini mall where we enjoyed a coffee and donut before heading back and relaxing the rest of the day eating pizza, chatting and wondering if it is worth me trying to venture out on my own with one of the few tour companies for a tour of the city and then meet back at my friends apartment later on.

One Arab state to another, next stop the Kingdom of Bahrain

I woke up to my alarm and not feeling any real rush got myself packed and ready to check out in a little less than an hour, which is far from my fastest but I did not want to miss anything or leave anything behind.

Once I got downstairts to the reception I could see the heavy rain coming down from above and I instantly regretted not booking a taxi last night and ensuring I could get to the airport in plenty of time. I also regretted not getting any change or of checking out which terminal I was meant to leave from.

This regret was doubled when the hotel was unable to find either a public or a private taxi for me for ages and when in the end they did manage to find a guy who was willing to take me, I had to sit in the front, not in the rear where my rucksack was and when we finally arrived at the airport he suddenly fleeced me big time by the fare.

First he claimed that because of the heavy traffic he wanted a bigger commission and then finally that he only had 20 dhs on him, which meant that as I had only two 10's myself or a few 100's left and he was asking for at least 50, I ended up being blackmailed into giving him a 100 and taking his 20 as change, thus a net cost of 80 almost triple what I paid only 36 ours ago to do the same journey only in reverse.

I would have haggled more but I was in a rush to beat the 90 minute deadline for overseas flights checkin and he knew it, playing on it and that he could either drive away or lock me out and apart form my rucksack if I tried to pull a fast one.

After cursing him plenty of times under my breath, I left and checked in and then cursed even louder when I found out that I had plenty of time as their check in deadline was 60 minutes, not the 90 or more as standard for most other airlines times for overseas flights.

HoweverI barely had enough time to have breakfast adn go through security which was a bit tighter than I expected before I was boarding the plane and ready to fly across to Bahrain to meet my friends there.

The flight as smooth and barely more than an hour and then I had a mix of luck as for the first time I won my game of luggage, being the very first piece of luggage send out on the carosel but then having my handluggage torn and ripped by the hand luggage metal detector belt.

Once through customs that was easy thanks to having prepaid and organised my entry visa online, and then jsust as luckily was that my friend A', along with her daughter, was there waiting for me in arrivals. It was with a lot of emotion that we greeted each other, not having seen each other for at least six years, and then we headed on back to her apartment where I was once again reunited with her son M' the one whom I had travelled to Ireland and rescued only the other year.

After a bite to eat in a nearby Nandos restaurant it was back to their apartment for a nice long catch up natter and then also reunite with her husband S' when he got back from work.

It was great to share a meal and drink with my friends once more, especially as we had somehow narrowly missed each other in Fiji and then again in Australia, so finally catching up with them before the end was such a nice touch.

I had thought that the night would end with us just sitting down chatting but S' wanted to show me a few of the local watering holes that were close to their apartment, and here it was nice as a nearby hotel complex had three bars side by side on its ground floor leve, all catering to a different crowd. A sports bar, a more western lounge bar and a Arabian bar were the three themes, and all with plenty of pretty female hostesses and waitresses all eagre to push the slightly overpriced drinks but in a very friendly and casual way.

The hostesses were from a variety of countries, with surprisingly many of them being from the Philippines, but they made a real effort to get to know you and engage you in conversation while they were wearing modest clothing, instead of similar places in other cities where they just rely on push up bras and short skirts, and the fact that none of them asked me to buy them a drink and together S' and I were out for a couple of hours equaly spoke volumes.

The final stop was the Arab bar where a trio of Morrocan female dancers were on the stage ready to dance for our enjoyment, but being a Sunday it was a very quiet night and we were the only patrons, so they didnt quite put their full energy into it and for myself the music was far too loud considering it was otherwise empty, so we just stayed for the one before heading back.

If I had ever doubted my rain making abilities then tonight completely quashed then as by the time we were leaving the nights sky was lit up with the flashes of lightening and the thunder was not far behind it, which by my count is now 31 countries in a row ( or 32 if you include the day I left England ), though admittedly it has not been raining every day, not in every city and not always enough to cause much of a fuss over.

S' said that the rain was very unseasonal, but then added that the climate had been changing in recent years, and I jokingly told him to place a bet that it would be raining in Cairo within a week as I was only due to remain here another few days.

A day in the sands of Dubai, U.A.E.

After a good nights rest and a unsual breakfast in the hotel I went to the hotel reception to investigate what deals they had to offer and was confused and baffled as to why they chose to have no tours in the morning or midday and then have overlappting tours in the evening and nighttimes.

Possibly there may be some logic that in the heat of their summer noone is awake and wanting to do anything during the midday when the sun is at its hottest, but during the months of January to April when it their cold months I feel that the daytime weather would be cool enough to allow them to roll back the starting time and thus they could ensure that a guest could do both a daytime and an evening tour, however my views were clearly not shared by the management who plan it thus.

With no internet in the hotel, no map of the local area and the sky looking very cloudy and grey I decided not to stray too far from the hotel but instead just book a half day tour and then do my best to make the most of it when it arrived. My wanderings took me a few blocks from my two star hotel where I was staying, at a cost of 350 dhs per night ( which anywhere else would be expensive but here it was actually quite cheap ) and I found that I was in the rough area of the city where not much was going on and so I just found an internet place and did my best to bash out some super quick emails and see if there was anything going on at nighttimes worth visiting that the hotel didnt know about.

As it happened, l ike in most of the cities I have visited, I feel that there is a serious lacking of arranged things to do for single travellers at night. Whenever you do a search for things to do at night the most frequent hits are bars, nightclubs and restaurants with an occasional lucky hit being a general online ticket website which will give a few more choices like sport or music concerts, just not this time.

Not intending on going on the pull, and never having had a strong liking for wasting good travel money getting blotto night after night, ( in fact I could probably count the number of nightclubs I have visited on this trip on both hands but being honest I couldnt remember where the last one was ), and knowing that arabs are not overly big on drinking I wasn't even sure if there would be a half decent watering hole within walking distance.

For some reason most big cities around the world have a couple of Irish Bars, but not all, and yet finding those bars can be like finding a needle in a haystack and being almost exclusively for expats few of the locals know where they are or how much the drinks are likely to cost.

As it turned out the internet was so slow that it wasnt really helpful in the searching department, so I gave up and headed back to my hotel to kill a few hours til my lift started.

The itiniary for the trip of my desert extraveganza was first off dune bashing, with beefy 4x4 offroad jeep followed by a choice of camel riding, quad bike riding, light snacks, henna tattoo's and sheesha hubbly bubbly for those for a taste of it before a proper barbeque meal and belly dancing.

First off our driver arrived about 3:45, a fraction later than planned, and then I shared my jeep with a female only russian family and a slightly older russian couple, none of whom spoke English ( nor surprisingly did the driver, but he did speak Russian ! ) and so my choice of conversation was not the best but the ride was only about an hour til we reached the pickup point.

There we had fifteen minutes to take a leak, buy some souveneirs and take a few pre-ride photos while the drivers all let down the tyre pressure just enough to give them better control over the dunes, before loadings us back all up and then headed down the road to the meeting point, where around fifty jeeps from the various tour agencies all met up for a big rally.

Of course, none of the cars stalled as the control of the various drivers were all exemplorary, each following each other on slightly different vectors, all takings bends, humps and drops with terrific wheel spins and slides, at times coming down almost sideways and trying to take clear photos or even ride without holding on tight was a real challenge.

To extend the ride without going miles out of the way we were never really going more than about 40mph for long, so it never felt like you was racing, unless perhaps you were in the lead jeep, but taking turns skidding and bashing the dunes for all the horsepower the jeep could offer was still a big thrill.

My two clearest memories is watching the freshly kicked up loose sand dance and skip across the dunes ahead of me, like some clever special effect artists piece-de-la-resistance, and also when we went over a hill too close ( or maybe the perfect distance ) to the jeep in front and the sand that its tyres kicked up splashed and washed down our windscreen and just for a second I was too confused to even take a photo as it resembled so close to golden water that I actually held my hands up to my face to ensure that I stayed dry.

Our little jaunt lasted almost an hour, with a ten or so minute break in the middle to take a rest, take photos and admire the endless dessert dunes far out from the city, and then we headed deeper into the dessert to where they had a camp for us all to kick back and where we would share the rest of the night.

With the camel riding or sand dune surfing free for those who wanted it, and a small extra charge for anyone who wanted a quad bike, it should have been great but during the ride over the sun had already passed sunset and so by the time you had decided what to do it was too late to safely to most of the other activities outside the camp, and further reinforced my idea that they should have started it earlier during the day, and so most of the guests from all the various groups all got together and sat around eating, snacking, dressing up like arabs for photos or getting a henna tattoo done.

I myself got a lovely scorpion henna tattoo that was going to take a couple of hours to dry, and with classic silent movie expense build up and them comic let down I had several near misses of a heavy rain downpour and some pushy locals queueing up for food, where it narrowly escaped being smudged, only for its neat perfection to come to an end right at the end of the night as I leaned over too close with my left arm to buckle up my seat belt, ironically specifically using my left not my right so that I wouldnt do exactly what I just did. Thankfully I had enough wits left not to slap my forehead in self disbelief, though I dearly wanted to, yet within seconds I managed to get henna all over my other hand, on the inside of my jacket and down my travelling pants as well.

The belly dancing was also great, as the dancer had great control of her body, but this act too suffered as it was too late at night by the time she started her dance, around 8pm, and though the area was vaguely lit by floodlights it was too dark to take any good photos or vieo footage and very few of the guests from either group bothered to buy the cd video of the days events for much the same reason, being that most of the activities were done in such darkness that they could barely be seen when replayed.

The night came to a rather abrupt end when the clouds that had been threatening and pretending to rain all evening finally got bored or waiting and came down hard enough for the belly dancer to give up her efforts, as did the music, and so we all piled back into our jeeps and back headed on back to our hotels.

All in all it should have been a magical experience but for me I felt that it was lacking something, and i think that the reason for this is two fold. Firstly is the piss poor timing issues that meant too many things were done in near darkness and secondly was me. I have been travelling to so many destinations and doing the highlights of each city for so long without a proper break to get bored or fall into a routine that now I feel the amazing IS the norm.

I suddenly got an half insight into the minds of adrenalin junkies, and maybe even drug addicts, where once you have experienced such an intense rush of emotion and energy that everything from then on feels a bit more mundane and if you keep repeating and upping the thrill to try and recapture that first buzz your body and mind slowly raise the bar on what gets a reaction from you, to the point where even doing things that a year ago would have had you whooping and screaming with joy now barely even register as an blip on your own excitement-ometer.

I am not trying to sound ungrateful, ( I do truly understand and appreciate how fortune and lucky I am, especially as I have seen in many cities the locals too poor to afford food, clothes or even a safe or dry place to lay down for the night ) and it is not homesickness that makes this say this, I am just trying to write down how it feels and explain that to me this is another indicator saying that it is time to calm things down and settle for a bit so that my body and mind can reset its levels so that once again I can feel satisfaction and enjoyment from lifes small and delicate things.

Leaving Delhi, India and arriving in Dubai, United Arab Emirates

After my altercation with the hotel management in Delhi I decided that of course I would not be joining them on a daytime tour through the city but more than that, that in fact I had had enough of India altogether and so the sooner I reached the airport the better I would feel.

I took another brief walk with my rucksack trying to find a bus or shuttle service to the airport but as far as any of the locals were prepared to tell me there was none, although I did find a few places that wanted to see me private taxi tours to Acra for a little over 2500, almost half of that of my own hostels.

In the end I chose almost at random one of the many travel agencies price of 250 for a taxi to the airport, which was very much the standard, and after a bit of a wait I ended up sharing with a youthful Afgan guy who had lived in India for the last two years and was now under a US government contract for their propaganda machine over there.

The drive was only about half an hour but by the time we arrived he had told me plenty of how India was a much confusing country, not much worth wasting time with in its core but along its many beaches could be found plenty of idyllic places of both natural and cultural beauty. I would have to take his word for it, as I have no plans to return here, and my view was further increased when I was told that I could not enter the airport until at most three hours before flight time despite having nothing but an expensive newly opened restaurant to visit on the outside.

The five hour wait outside the cafe was long and boring, but not so hot as the weather had chilled noticibly and almost on cue it began to rain lightly but consistently for the last three hours.

Finally my three hours deadline was up and I could go inside, though once inside there was as little to do inside as outside and it was a huge relief when I finally cleared checkin and was able to go to my boarding gate. There was one moment of doubt however, when the check in clerk asked me if i needed a entry visa to visit Dubai, but I did my best to sound confident and said that I didn't, hoping that I was correct and that when I got to the other end I could indeed pass through without any lengthy explanation or delay in the airport.

The flight across was not as basic as some, having movies and tv to watch plus free drinks and a meal, but the flight was long and I arrived much later than I first thought, around 11:30 instead of 10pm. Thankfully my guess was correct and it was nice to be fast tracked past all my fellow passengers who had to cue up for visa clearance and just be waved through to the passport check line, where again I was barely registered before being stamped and passed through for travel.

Once out the other side I changed some money over and then got a airport organised taxi for 33 Dhs, which considering the time was not too bad, and the hotel was only minutes away but on a side street so had I tried to catch a bus or shuttle and then head on over it would have been very tricky to find.

I was very puzzled that despite booking it last August and paying £26 as a deposit to book my room the hotel had no record of my booking and so I had to pay the full balance of the hotel, which meant that I was further out of pocket but possibly this at least is something that I could claim on my travel insurance when I get back.

I was shown up to my room and soon was plugging my stuff in to recharge and falling fast asleep, happy and dry and only slightly miffed that the hotel had no wifi or internet facilities.

Racism and racists

I have now been travelling for around seven months and I have discovered that I am becoming a bit of a racist, but in my defence I would say that it is a racism born from being used, abused and mistreated by those who I put my trust in and should have been on my side when all others were indifferent.

 

When I book online to check out a hotel, I was chosing the hostels and hotels with not the best price, but a low price combined with the best ratings to ensure that my stay would be as smooth as possible and that perhaps I could avoid being ripped by the local hawks and touts that can be found in most airports and major train stations, especially near places considered of high importance on the tourist trail.

 

When I arrived in Delhi my hotel had arranged for me an airport pickup and charged me 440 rupees, the standard being 250 but it was early in the morning so they felt they could increase the price accordingly.

 

During the ride into town the taxi driver said that if I wanted to go to Acra then I had best use their personal taxi service as the trains were very busy, hot, expensive and booked full for weeks in advance. I thanked his for his advice and took it under offer.

 

When I arrived at the hotel the owner said the same thing and so I originally cancelled the trip til in the end the tour desk clerk convinced me that it would be worth it and again that the train was not possible as it would be very hard to book for me and be a very long, expensive and uncomfortable journey even if I could book a seat.

 

With three people all telling me the same advise I decided to trust them and so did not go for a wander to find the local train statoin myself, but agreed to go with them that day. The car's air conditioning was not working properly, it broke down twice and the traffic on the way back extended a 3 hour journey into a 5 hour journey.

 

That was yesterday.

 

Today I had no plans and as I finished my blogging early, due to being woken very early by the pigeons mating outside my room, I decided to go for a walk and randomly found the train station after a bit of walk just at the very end of the road that it was off of. At the station was a nice big blue sign saying that international tourists should go upstairs to the booking office and avoid talking to touts or locals saying that the tourist place is closed.

 

When I went upstairs I easily found the place and within ten minutes I got to talk to a clerk who confirmed that there were several trains that left for Acra each day, that a luxury train including a meal and air conditioning was only 400 rupees each way and that I could book as many tickets as I wanted for whichever day I wanted, including today, quickly and easily then and there, and if I booked in advance and didn't mind slumming it a bit I could get a ticket for a normal train even cheaper.

 

My hotel charged me 4200 rupees for a return journey that was long, boring, hot, without working air conditioning and without a meal. Five minutes up the road I coud easily get a ticket for 800 that would not be delayed by traffic and offered all the luxuries and comforts that the stuck in traffic private car ride would not.

 

When I went back and confronted the tour desk and hotel owner they were both very blazais about it all, suggesting that it was my fault, denying that they put any pressure on me to book with then, denying that they blatantly lied about how difficult or expensive the train was and refused to give even a partial refund for their treachery.

 

And remember all this was from a hostel voted #1 in Delhi in 2007 and was still receiving favourable reports when compared to other places in Delhi.

 

People who claim that racism is bad and wrong are often suffering from the bleeding hearts syndrome and are people who have never been on the rough end of trying to deal with the locals fairly and honestly. I believed that the hotel I was staying in would offer good advice and failing that would at least offer some apology and partial refund if I was unsatisfactory with their tours or advice given, but what I got was a rude brush off from a staff who unanimously gave me the go-tell-someone-who-gives-a-fuck atittude.

 

Asuming that the people who gave the hostel good reviews had even one brain cell between them it is highly likely that they gave it a good rating after visiting other places and feeling that this place was good, yet under my analysis it is not good just possibly better than the other local hostels and hotels.

 

Thus it feel that it is unwise to trust most indians, that I do not want to get close to most indians, that I do not want to visit India again and that if I never saw an Indian again it would not be a bad thing. If that makes me a racist then so be it, but I say that they started it and when confronted with their own lies and unscrupulous behavoir were neither apologietic, understanding nor made any effort to remedy the situation so that I would leave on happier terms.

 

All men may be made equally, but by their behavior, beliefs and attitutude to those around then some show themselves to be lesser men than others. If as a race of people you live off lying and cheating others then do not expect to be granted the same sympathy or compassion that those from other races benefit from, and especially not from the very people from whom you treated unfairly in the past simply by because you feel you want it. Instead be ready to receive nothing short of contempt, distrust and dislike. Unless and until you as a race can first learn to treat others fairly I feel you have no ethical or moral right whatsover to complain when you receive less than an equal treatment away from home soil.

 

I began my travels with my eyes and heart open to all and a dislike for no race, only individuals. However time and again I have been cheated and lied to and when I find out that far from being unexpected this behavoir is considered normal I can only feel that those responsible are sadly not a disgrace to their race but instead a reflection of them as a whole.

A few more shots of Agra and Delhi, India

A day in India and the Taj Mahal, India

Before making any firm plans I decided to visit the Internet lounge upstairs, which moved slower than the O.A.P. queue on pension day at the post office, and also just happened to be next to the tour booking desk in the hotel.

As any good tour guide would, he did his best to engage me in conversation to figure out how much of my money he could get out of me for offering me his tour, what he didnt do was tell me the truth about how best to get to Agra or the hidden upselling cost of the entrance fee to foreign tourists who visit the Taj Mahal.

Apparently the place was closed tomorrow, not that I would have time to visit it and return in time for my flight anyway, so if I still wanted to go then today was the only chance I would have. He told me about the slow buses or the even slower stopping train so suggested that I take his companies private car but that even that would be at least 4 hours going and longer coming back with the Indian traffic, all for a cost of 4,200 IR.

What he didn't tell me what that it did not include a guide at the other end, as the driver was not a guide and knew not much about the place, that the entrance fee was a staggering 750 IR for tourists, but only 20 for Indians ( I tell you we really should be like this in the UK, it would cut down the amount of foreigners who stay here for sure and it seems like us Brits and the Americans are the only countries that DON'T overcharge toursits by standard government policy !). No, I found that out just a few minutes away from the entrance and although I paid it in the end it meant that I decided not to take their tour tomorrow daytime and my review of this hostel was not going to be so good.

The driver of the bus chatted to me as best he could for the four hours we were in transit, but he had a bit of a fixation on women and kept asking for jokes and tips on how he could seduce the female tourists that he escorted from place to place. Not the he wanted to love or marry one, of course not as he was a good Hindu Indian, but he had seen enough blue movies to be sure that western women were very open and good at sex and he wanted some fun before getting married to a clean Indian woman.

It was a hot drive and we stopped twice to pick up drinks and twice more as the car broke down, but luckily they were only minor engine stalls and semi flooded engines rather than complete mechanical failures and so he was able to coax the car back to life both times with no more than five minutes delay. We also passed at least three traffic accidents along the road which is no surprise after witnessing how overloaded they pile their vehicles, be it trucks pulling caravans, oxen pulling bags or tuk tuks carrying passengers.

Once at Agra he pulled into a parking lot almost one kilometer away from the main entrance at the western gate of the Taj Mahal, not being allowed to go any further by a barier right across the road, but told me it was direct ten minute walk and not to stop or talk to anyone on the way there, not that I had any money left which was the other reason why I was so angry at the tour guide. So it was that I passed pedalos, donkey carts, horse carriages and even Camel wagons on the route to the gate, which in the end did take me about six minutes and saved me the 150 rupees that everyone was asking for the ride at the parking lot.

The Indian government try to suggest that the reason for disallowing cars to drive all the way up is to prevent pollution at the site, but having seen how much garbage and trash is abslutely everywhere I tend to believe my own view which is that it is just a way of milking that little bit more out of tourists, as there is no way the taxi driver was going to give me the money to pay for a ride that last kilometer.

Once I bought myself the entrance ticket I was told to go to the side and pick up my free bottle of water, my free government guide ( who was not much of a informative guide but it was nice to have someone semi-trustworthy to take photos of me once inside the complex ) and also my free tiny shoe webbing, as otherwise I would have to take my shoes off at the main entrance to the white marble temple.

Walking around the Taj Mahal with my guide took about one and a half hours, all the while he patiently waited for me to take my own photos and was fairly competent at taking shots of me standing at the classic locations along the main route to the entrance.

The Taj Mahal is not the largest temple in India, but it considered to be the most impressive and spectacular to view, was built for the wife of one of their rulers a few hundred years ago and took 15 years to complete the main building and another 7 for the twin buildings, courtyard and gate houses at a cost said to be arond 14 million rupees at the time.

The history also goes that the same ruler wanted to build a black Taj Mahal for himself just across the river for his own future burial, complete with expansive bridge across linking the two for all eternity, but his eldest son decided that this was a waste of money and as he would rather spend the money on himself he had his father arrested, ( who subsequently later died while still in prison ), seized power for himself and halted the construction with barely the foundations laid for the second temple.

After the main tour my guide took me out via a second exit so that he could show me how the inlaid artwork was done by craftsmen whose descendents had worked on the Taj Mahal itself, if you chose to believe it, and after a brief demonstration led me over to a side stall where they tried to coax me in to buying an ornate box or souveneir for a family member of friend back home.

I don't often buy souveneirs as a rule and so today thanks to my hostel tour desks ineptitute I was saved the awkward dilemma of trying to whether to bargain for a small trinket of not just to make him happy, as I just didnt have anything left to give, which sort of left me free to shrug and just walk out feeling that I could not have bought anything no matter how low he wanted to drop his 'very good price' for me down to.

Palming my guide my last 50 IR note as I left, I walked back to the parking lot where I was picked up by my driver and we started off going back to Delhi. So far I had not seen anything that showed there was any real money in India at all, and knowing that everywhere has some rich folk, I asked where the rich lived in Delhi and my driver said south, so I am guessing that the north is the poor area, the central is the business district and the south is the affluent area, almost worth a small side trip to visit tomorrow.

Feeling more than slightly peckish I gladly stopped off at the McDonalds about half way back, but of course it is forbidden to eat Cow here in India, so thankfuly Chicken and fish were still on the menu and best of all was a ATM just around the corner. I was sorely templed to go for the Marharajah Burger, which looked like a Big Mac only I wasnt sure of which meat was in it and it had so much salad and weird coloured relish that in the end hunger drove me to stick to the safe option of a chicken burger meal. It was hardly food for the gods, but it was very hot, not luke warm like most places, the chips were properly cooked and not soggy and the coke wasnt too watery, so apart from not having beef as an option you could get a lot worse than trying a Delhi McDonalds.

The remainder of the ride was a bit of a comedic duel between us and another car, whose driver loved to race off ahead whenever he got onto a clear stretch of road but had no overtaking skills whatsoever and so without even trying we would catch and overtake him the moment the road got even slighly congested. Over five hours after leaving the Taj Mahal, and passing only a few big shopping malls which were the only hints of any real wealth or prosperity in India, we made it back to the area where my hostel was, where the driver dropped me off and gave me directions to find my way back along the main road.

I headed on back, changed the last of my Chinese money along the way getting a bad deal despite haggling yet better than no deal at all, and after settling my bill so I knew how much I had left to spend went out into the night to see what mischief I could find. What I found was the pimps offering to help me get 'whatever you are looking for', and rows of homeless all sleeping huddled up next to each other on the side of what passed for roads here in this area.

Of course being normally paranoid at being out after dark, before stepping out I had removed all my valuables and left them all back in my room, so the worst that could happen was that I would be robbed or pickpocketted of a few hundred rupees, but as it happened all that did happen was that I was approached by a couple of beggars til I reached the end of a main street and decided that without a map and paying for directions the best I could do was find a half decent Indian restaurant where I could try some local curry before gonig back to my hotel room and sleeping the last of the heat exhaustion away.