You may have been wondering about signage in India. Not as amusing as China, but funny non-the-less.

These signs are at the entrance of the Taj Mahal.

Everywhere we go we must line up in separate lines.  It is not okay to touch the other gender in public.  Long story here, but I’ll save it for later.

This is the reason everyone comes to Agra if not India.

This famous monument to love is as timeless as it is beautiful. So, here’s the story.  Shah Jahan was a Hindu prince who took over from his father at a time when there was great unrest between Hindus and Muslims.  In order to forge a truce he married a Muslim princess who became the love of his life.  They were never apart and she bore him 14 children, only 6 of whom made it to adulthood.  Anyway, during the birth of the 14th child the princess died and this sent Shah Jahan into a deep depression.  His minions finally took him from the spot where she died but he really was never the same again. On her deathbed he promised to build her a garden to last for all eternity and thus began the 22 year build of the “Taj.”  During this time the third son killed his two brothers and usurped the crown from his father exiling him to Agra Fort where the Shah was con fined to a small set of rooms.  He could only watch out the windows as the Taj was built.  At last it was done and he buried his wife there and shortly died himself at age 72 and was interred next to her.

These are the eternally fresh and beautiful flowers the Shah gathered for his beloved.  The two that are inlaid use a forgotten art which came from Italy.  Semi-precious jewels are used and shine in the sun.

This is the courtyard outside the Shah’s rooms where he was confined for the 8 years before he died.

This is his set of rooms.  They are beautiful although I guess Jahan was pining for his wife.

This is the view he had from his window.  So this sad story ended and the monument to everlasting love still draws admirers from around the globe.

This is Agra Fort, where Shah Jahan spent his final years and where he lived with his princess.

This is the entrance in the inner courtyard.  This fort was never breached and in this level they kept lions and tigers.

This is the palace the Shah had built for his new bride. It is in the Muslim style, to help her feel at home.

The Hindu temple where the Shah worshiped his gods.

The grand presentation hall.  It would be imposing if you came to call!

We all commented that in a country with arranged marriages it seems there are a lot of stories about true love.  This is the ultimate tribute to that.

Going through one of the million toll booths on the “freeway” we passed this van.  Who knew?

At the Amber Fort these guys sat and watched us.  You can just tell they’re thinking ‘crazy tourists!’

The garden inside the Amber Fort.  These were in the part where the harem was.  My finger on the top of the picture is over the harem.

The pool at Naharaja Fort, but it was way too cold to go swimming.

 Camels shared the freeway with us as did ox carts, tractors, tuk-tuks,  scooters, bicycles, people walking, motorcycles, rickshaws, trucks  large and small, cars, buses, and the occasional cow, dog, goat, donkey, and elephant.  Traffic rules are merely suggestions.  We have driven down the side against oncoming traffic, ignored red lights, passed on hills and curves, gone the wrong way on one way streets, anything you can imagine.  So far we’re safe and have only slightly grazed an old guy on a bike pulling a trailer.

 Mark likes to take pictures of street scenes. Here is one of them.

 Anyone who knows me knows that I am petrified of snakes.  Rounding a corner one day I stepped into this scene.  I busted through a line of tourists 3 people deep to get away before the snake charmer let one of these Cobras loose.

 We went to a shop where they made carpets and other textiles.  This is a man block printing a piece of cotton.  He’s on his third pass with about four more to go.

This man is shaving the knots off the wrong side of a rug.  This co-op sends woven pieces to the main building for finishing.  After this step he uses a flame thrower on it to burn off any remaining knots and to make sure no polyester was used in the carpet.  Yes we bought one.  Well, three.

This is Mr. Smarmy who gave us the talk on types of wool and carpet quality.  He plied us with rum, chai, and soda beforehand.  Smooth!

 We stopped at a small school somewhere in the dust to give these children notebooks and pencils and scare the bejezeesus out of them.  The little girl in front with the blue scarf just started crying uncontrollably.  We big, loud, ungainly white people were just too much for them.

Finally,  we stopped at this largest step well in India.  Built centuries ago, it is still occasionally in use.  The water rises and falls with the rainy season.  They used to let tourists go down to the bottom which is 90 feet deep until some woman fell and sued.  Bet she was American!  Anyway, it was a really amazing sight.

I can’t figure out how India seems to be stuck in the Middle Ages but has electricity.  Roads are mostly dirt over cracked cement, plumbing is really sketchy, toilets are pretty much a gamble, there are animals roaming all over the streets, most people are thin, there is garbage everywhere, and yet this is a really beautiful and mesmerizing country.  You judge from the pictures.  Next stop, Agra and the Taj Mahal.