Farewell Sparky

We bid au revoir to Marcus (or the spanish equivalent) from Agra, which wasn’t quite the romp we had planned for as he was bloody ill.  Still G and I drank a few for him and still managed to cart him to the Taj Mahal in ridiculous Harry Krishna outfits we had purchased in Varanasi – photos to follow.

The Taj lives up to the billing by the way.  Reflecting the sun off it’s polished marble it’s actually difficult to look at directly.  Up close though, the level of detail is staggering, not a bad grave for the old ball and chain.  Not a bad grave at all.

Yesterday Stinwad and I took a detour to see an old palace and an epic mosque parked alongside it.  Some muslim fellows were having a bit of a singsong in the grounds, one of them in particular impressing us with his drum skills.  Everyone in India seems to be religious.  Some of them seem to worship in mysterious ways though.  Back in Varanasi for instance, we watched guys panning for gold in the shallows of the Ganges where the ashes of the deceased were being dumped.  As these people were adorned with plenty of jewellery upon cremation there was obviously a fair bit of gold to be had.  Well, I say panning but these guys were fully submerging themselves and coming up with pans full of silt, ash and maybe a tiny speck of gold.  Mental.

OK, we’re off to Rajastan tonight – I have had Dehli belly already (spewed everywhere last night after my curry) and we’re going to check out a cheeky sunset over the Taj right…about…now.


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