From Delhi to Agra and the extraordinary stay in Chhattisgarh
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Translated into English.

Original post
AL
My train to Mathura is at 2 PM, and we’ll arrive an hour late—all good. I booked a hotel on booking, but unfortunately, it’s really far from the ghats. Walking there is out of the question—what a shame. The hotel itself is fine, and there are several restaurants right across the street, which will be handy for dinner. This won’t be an exception, though—starting at 10 PM, they must wake up because I can hear them talking loudly, and music is playing along. My room faces the entrance, so it’s going to be tough. At midnight, I ask them to lower the volume, but they don’t listen. By 1 AM, I lose my temper, and this time, everything stops. Finally, I can get some sleep—until 4 AM, when they start up again for a little while before quiet returns until 6 AM. But when do they sleep? The noise never seems to bother them—it’s unbelievable, and I’m finding it harder and harder to tolerate. It makes a huge difference. The next morning, as I leave, they tell me they’ll give me another room for the following night. Oh, two nights like that wouldn’t be possible—I’m exhausted. I head out to explore the ghats and take a rickshaw, which I share with a family, to Vrindavan, a city of temples dedicated to Krishna. I visit several while wandering through the lively streets, surrounded by a crowd of devotees. By 1 PM, I’m near the Bankey Bihari Temple, but I can’t go in—it just closed. Nearby, there are restaurants, so I take the opportunity to grab my usual aloo paratha with a lassi.





The work women do here is incredibly hard, and their pay must be miserable.



I want to leave Vrindavan for Govardhan. Two young guys on a motorcycle in front of the temple approach me, and the driver offers to take me part of the way. I’m pretty skeptical, but he insists, and I eventually agree. I didn’t fully understand what was happening. Once on the bike, his friend hops on too, and suddenly I’m sandwiched between them for a multi-kilometer ride—*travel Indian-style*. We quickly drop off the friend, and I breathe easier for the rest of the trip. At an intersection, he stops—Govardhan is straight ahead, but to get to his village, he needs to turn right. We wait for the bus for a few minutes, and he flags it down so I can hop on and continue my journey. What an adventure.





the neighbor with its beautiful dome.

AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
I leave Mathura by bus and arrive at 10:20 AM in Sikandra. The bus drops me off right in front of Akbar’s mausoleum. At the entrance, there’s a room for luggage storage, which works out great for me (10 rs), and the entry fee for the mausoleum is 300 rs. I’ve been here before, but it’s so beautiful that I couldn’t resist coming back. The first gate, made of sandstone, is stunning with its beautiful decorations, marble, and slate, topped by four minarets.





The gate opens onto a well-maintained park, with dry basins leading to the tomb. The tomb has four doors at the cardinal points. The facade walls feature marble inlays, yellow limestone, and black slate on the red sandstone structure, creating geometric and floral patterns. Inscriptions above the door, in white marble, note that the mausoleum was built between 1612 and 1614. The mausoleum aligns with the four cardinal points and sits at the center. The chhatris (domes) are made of marble.





Stepping inside the mausoleum, you’re surprised by how richly decorated the interior is—though the center of the room is currently under restoration.





The ceiling of the main dome is under restoration, with scaffolding in the middle of the room. A narrow, dark, sloping corridor leads down to the tomb (photos prohibited). The contrast between the vestibule and the burial chamber is striking. The chamber is completely simple, with no decoration or color, and very dim lighting—though the acoustics are amazing, and the guard has fun demonstrating this to visitors. The gates. Wide pathways lined with canals lead to each door of the mausoleum. Two portals are in good condition, the third is under restoration, and the last is in ruins. The three false entrance doors served as both garden pavilions and accommodations. Each had a small side door for direct access from the outside. The best-preserved and most extraordinary gate is the western one. The vaulted ceiling is incredible. The entire surface is richly decorated with painted motifs that have withstood the elements well.





The eastern gate has no paintings on the walls, which is quite curious—perhaps it never had any.



The northern gate was once the largest and most grandiose, but today it’s a ruin. This place is peaceful, and I take my time to soak it all in. View of the western gate overlooking the mausoleum.



After picking up my luggage at the exit, I take a rickshaw to continue exploring the area—I want to discover some lesser-known mausoleums.
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
Mariam’s tomb, located on the left side of the Agra-Mathura road, less than a kilometer from Akbar’s tomb. Mariam Zamani was a Rajput princess married to Akbar in 1562. She died in Agra in 1623, and her son Jahangir had this tomb built for her. The entry ticket is a bit pricey (250 rs). Some researchers believe this structure was originally a "pleasure palace" later converted into a tomb. Others disagree, as the Mughals didn’t repurpose existing structures for such purposes. The building isn’t very well maintained—the paintings inside have faded. It’s a shame because the structure is beautiful, and the gardens are immaculate.





We pass by Akbar’s tomb again—500 meters away is the Gurudwara Garuka Ka Taal, a beautiful building from the outside. We take a photo and move on.



Three kilometers away are the Salabat Khana tomb and the Raja Jaswant Singh Chhatri. These two tombs face each other in a garden but have different architectures. Salabat Khan’s tomb is built in red sandstone. This tomb consists of an open hall with 64 columns on a large platform, with chhatris at each corner.





The tomb of Sadiq Khan It’s an octagonal tomb that originally stood on a large platform that has since collapsed. It’s not maintained, and you can’t go inside. The coffin is outside.



Now heading to Agra and the N’Homestay—the driver doesn’t know it, the guard tries to explain, he asks for directions several times, and with patience, we finally arrive. It’s in a residential neighborhood, quiet but a bit out of the way. Small market in the area.

AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
I’ve got a meet-up after breakfast with Mukul, the rickshaw driver who’ll be taking me around Agra all day. We start with the Jama Masjid in the old city.



and its neighborhood, which unfortunately is still asleep—shops are slowly opening at 10:30.



We head off to Ram Bagh (the garden of flower diffusion), the oldest Mughal garden in India. Here, there’s no ticket counter; we have to go into a shop where the vendor handles the administrative steps and gives me a payment receipt for entry—250 rs—plus takes a 50 rs commission. The entry ends up being pretty expensive for such a quick visit, and the price isn’t justified. It’s getting more and more complicated to visit historical sites in India as a foreign tourist with their scan-and-pay systems.





The garden consists of three descending terraces with channels where water used to flow. Fruit trees and flowers once grew here, but today there’s nothing left. Still, it’s well maintained.



A walkway overlooks the Yamuna, where laundry workers wash and dry clothes.



AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
A little further on, Chini Ka Rauza—free entry, which is so rare. It’s the tomb of Afzal Khan, a courtier and poet whose brother was the calligrapher of the Taj Mahal. This tomb doesn’t follow the course of the Yamuna River or the layout of the gardens that once lined the river. The tomb faces Mecca.

In the past, this tomb was covered in tiled decoration, but not much of it remains today. This colorful tiled decoration is what gives the tomb its name—"Chini" means "China."

The state of the exterior hides a lovely surprise inside, which is absolutely charming with beautiful paintings. These paintings must have been restored, though there’s no proof of it.











It’s a wonderful surprise, and I’m so glad I stopped by here.



On the banks of the Yamuna, you can see an old chhatri.

BI Bijoliane Veteran ·
thanks for these beautiful walks that bring back so many memories! thanks for the photos and the vivid, interesting story—I’m almost there! !
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
Welcome back to the forum—so glad to see you here again! There are classics, but also lots of new discoveries in this travel journal, just like the previous ones. Agra isn’t just about the Taj Mahal, and I didn’t run into many tourists there. Can’t say I’m complaining! 🤗😊
MA Max68 Globetrotter ·
Hello, It’s with pleasure and interest that I board the train. Thanks
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
Can't wait to chat and have fun! 😄
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
I’m not far from the Itmad-Ud-Daulah tomb, or the Baby Taj. The entrance gate in red sandstone decorated with white marble inlays.



The same gate seen from the back.



This is the first tomb made of white marble. The exterior surface is stunning, with inlaid stone featuring geometric patterns, flowers, and carafes in exceptional detail.





The *jalis* (lattice screens) are also incredibly delicate, giving the interior a soft, filtered light. The inside of the tomb is divided into 9 chambers. In the central chamber—the largest—are the coffins of Itimad-Ud-Daulah and Asmat Begum.





The paintings are beautiful, with rich colors. The flowers painted on the inner walls are mostly red—red flowers in Persian symbolism represent suffering and death.



The decorations and designs of the interior ceilings are remarkable.



The tomb has four gates made of red sandstone with white marble inlays.



The funerary garden is meant to represent paradise. It’s square-shaped, divided into four parts by canals and walkways, with the tomb on a platform in the center. I’m taking advantage of this peaceful, quiet place to relax.
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
I’m wrapping up my day at Methab Bagh (the garden across from the Taj Mahal). Entry is 300 rs. The garden itself isn’t extraordinary, but you have to come here for the beautiful views of the Taj Mahal. In the evening at sunset, the light is gorgeous, and we’re all meeting up here. The Yamuna River separates the garden from the Taj Mahal.





AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
I’m spending my last day in Dholpur, which I already know—I really like it, and tourists don’t come here. I’m taking a bus (77 rs). When I arrive, I’ll head straight to Machkund by rickshaw—it’s 5 km out in the countryside. It’s a large water reservoir surrounded by *chhatris* and red sandstone temples. I’ve been here several times and never run into any tourists. It’s beautiful and peaceful—it’s nice to spend time in places like this. (See my travel journal *Rajasthan insolite*, Nov 22)







I head back to town and get a ride to the *baori* near the market. At the entrance, men have gathered—some are playing chess, another in the corner is sifting turmeric and ginger for Ayurvedic treatments. Another man comes up to me as soon as I arrive and shows me around. I’m lucky because the door to the lower level is locked, but my guide quickly finds the person in charge who gives us the keys. This *baori* has five levels, but I only see two—the other three are underwater.



When I return, there’s more activity at the entrance—a woman is getting her shoulder massaged, a man is having a poultice applied to his ankle, another to his leg. My back’s a little sore, but I don’t try the massages. I ask my guide where the other *baori* is, and he happily takes me there. He tells me there’s another one, but it’s in bad shape. To get to this one—the Queen’s *baori*—you have to climb over the fence and walk through trash. It’s a shame it’s not maintained because it’s really beautiful—the pillars are carved.



My guide explains that the niches along the *baori* were used to place ghee lamps, so women could come fetch water in the evening.



After the visit, I wander around the market, then head back to Agra. Tomorrow, I’m going back to Agra.
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
At 7 AM, takeoff for Raipur in Chhattisgarh and another fabulous journey begins—but for now, I have no idea what awaits me or what I’ll discover. I arrive in Raipur at 9 AM. It’s a small airport. By the time I pick up my bag, Raja, who’s arriving from Bangalore, joins me. Driver Anil and local guide Awesh are waiting at the exit, worried they haven’t seen me come out. They welcome us with a flower garland each. We leave Raipur and head to a local festival 70 km away—no time to waste. Women and men from several villages are getting ready: costumes, makeup, jewelry, hairstyles with peacock feathers in their hair. The colors of their clothes vary depending on the village they come from.







The different tattoos all have very specific meanings: those on the arms represent mountains, on the forearms, crops, flowers, and vegetables, and on the hands, protection for life.



The men have musical instruments, and the women have hand cymbals. This festival happens once a year, set according to the moon, to thank the goddesses of crops and the monsoon.





The shamans from the surrounding villages are seated near the temple. A few drops of oil are poured into their hands, the music starts, and they quickly enter a trance. There are so many of them, and it’s quite impressive. Some shout, others jump, moving back and forth to the rhythm of the music. Men attend the ceremony, holding totems—here, mostly bamboo with flags, while others, more important ones, are covered in flowers and fabrics.





The men with their totems begin to parade, followed by the shamans, musicians, and dancers, then the crowd follows through the village. The costumed women and men dance in a circle. In front of each house, they offer their blessing and will visit every village, hoping for good yields in the next harvests. This is the first time I’ve witnessed such a festival, and it’s truly amazing.
RO Rouquine38 Globetrotter ·
Oops! I missed the train... but luckily, I managed to catch the flight to Raipur 😅. I'm once again amazed by the vibrant colors of the clothes👗.
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
Oh, we're gonna have so much fun and be really impressed by all these festivals.
AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
We’re back in the car, and since this morning I’ve been seeing beautiful mahua trees (madhuca indica). The local alcohol is made from these flowers.



Raja spots an animist cemetery and asks Anil to stop.



Another stop near a river where women build small dams with their hands. They pass the trapped water through a net to catch any small fish or crabs.





We reach our hotel in Jagdalpur at 6:30 PM after a great day.

This morning, we head back to the countryside, and it feels so good to be far from the noise. We’re going to discover the Muria tribe and their very unique way of life in the Ghotuls. The Murias are among the oldest aboriginal peoples of India. When children reach adolescence, both boys and girls leave their family homes to live in the ghotuls, mixed dormitories where they spend the night and learn to sleep as couples with great freedom. They can change partners, and girls must avoid getting pregnant. It’s a place of awakening to adult life and sexuality, where songs, dances, poetry, and community life play a central role. The girls choose their future husbands. It’s incredible how different this is from the strict traditions of this country.

Along the way, we stop by the roadside—we’ve spotted some animist graves. The graves with figures and animals represent the importance of the person in the village.



Awesh takes us to someone’s home who shows and explains how their still works to distill mahua flowers into alcohol. You heat water, and in the center, a wooden tray is tightly tied. The flowers are placed there, and the steam distills, passing through a long pipe into a collection container, producing mahua alcohol.



the outdoor kitchen



The inner courtyards of the houses are always very clean—you can walk barefoot! They collect cow dung, mix it with water until it becomes a paste, and spread it on the ground. When it dries, it forms a crust, making the floor spotless. There’s no odor, and it also acts as a natural mosquito and insect repellent. It’s a beautiful and effective method.



we watch butter being churned

AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
Further on, the women are sitting on the ground—some sorting rice, another grinding black lentils with a smile. It’s really interesting to witness this local life, and we’re always welcomed warmly.



The women have beautiful tattoos, though sadly, the younger generation has abandoned this practice. On their arms, you’ll see representations of flowers and vegetables; on their forearms, mountains; and on their hands, symbols of protection for life. Everything here is symbolic and graceful.





In one house, the lady of the house offers us food. She crafts small containers from sal leaves to use as plates. The sal tree is fascinating—its resin is used to make incense, the seeds and fruits are turned into oil or vegetable fat, the wood for frameworks, the leaves for containers, and the branches as fodder for livestock. Nothing goes to waste.







The men are distinguished with their headgear and jewelry.



AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
The village chief comes to fetch us and takes us a little away from the houses—this spot serves as the village square. We wait for the musicians and dancers who come to perform for us. The villagers take advantage of the moment and settle in the shade of the trees.



The men arrive on stilts and give us a few demonstrations. The clothing and jewelry are always very beautiful. Here, some men wear bovine horns and peacock feathers. The women have lovely outfits and beautiful jewelry that weighs around their necks.







The men also have very colorful outfits.





We head back on the road. Raja remembers a place where he’d passed before and discovered ancient rituals in the jungle. We take a path that leads deep into the jungle and find them again. It’s very moving to arrive at this well-protected spot and come across these old tombs. The site is well-maintained and quite extensive, with a temple and tombs scattered throughout the nature.



AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
New day—this morning we’re visiting Jagdalpur in Bastar, a region of Chhattisgarh. Chhattisgarh is home to 30% of India’s tribal population, and in Jagdalpur, that figure rises to 70%.

Raja’s nephew, Pravin, who isn’t familiar with this area, is joining us. While we wait for him, Raja knows the manager of a more luxurious hotel than the one we’re staying at, so we pay him a visit. The garden is stunning, filled with beautiful fruit trees in bloom. Lychee

Jackfruit and its fruits.



Mango tree and its fruits, which will ripen in June.



It’s lovely, but it’s not in my budget. Once Pravin arrives, we head to a big festival with the Muria tribe. Along the way, we visit a beautiful sanctuary with a megalithic menhir and animal statues. It’s always moving to be in places like this.





Awesh’s wife has prepared aloo parathas, and we have a picnic in the shade near the temple where the festival is taking place. Inside the temple, there’s a megalithic menhir, and above its spot, the ceiling is open to allow earth-sky energy to flow.



Goat sacrifices take place here before the ceremony. Inside the temple, the musical instruments are ready, and the musicians are settling in.



The shamans sitting in the middle of the room quickly enter a trance. It’s quite surprising. Men stand beside them, dressing them in feminine attire—jewelry and flower crowns. They’ll be venerated as female deities by the community.





AL Aleph240758 Veteran ·
The men and the dancers arrived, along with the men carrying the laths (totems with flags), and the procession begins through the village.



At each house, there’s a stop. The women wait for the goddesses with pitchers of water and flowers to bless the procession and the shamans, who offer them a few grains of rice as a good luck charm.







The men carrying the totems—two in front and two behind—some of whom are in a trance, will also receive the blessing from the village women.



The shamans are blessed as well.



Residents from surrounding villages come to attend this annual festival.





We head to the market, which is very large today for the festival. The date is set at the last minute and spreads quickly from village to village.



My new acquaintances—it’s safe to say I’m quickly noticed here.



Thanks to Awesh for finding this festival through his contacts—it’s exceptional to be able to participate. I realize how lucky I am to experience such unforgettable and extraordinary moments. Awesh calls me "lucky mam" ;) Farmers and traders come here, hoping that with the blessing, they’ll have good crops and successful business all year. The shamans are revered; men and women kneel, kiss their feet, and offer them flowers or a bill in exchange for a few grains of rice. At the end of the festival, singles arrive and spend the night here, hoping to meet their soulmate. When it comes to marriage, it’s the man who brings the dowry and moves in with his wife’s family. Back at the Ham Residency hotel in Jagdalpur. It’s new, and the price is very reasonable: 1700 Rs including breakfast.

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