Saturday, August 11

This was a travel day. Transitioning between Jaipur and Agra with much to see in between, we’d have a lot on our plate.

First stop: Jantar Mantar, the observatory built by the great astronomer-warrior-king Jai Singh II. We got ourselves a guide (with a Ph D in tourism, he said) to tell us about the instruments, not being astronomers ourselves. I was astounded by the details they had, even in 1727-1734, building and improving their instruments to better tell time. The first instrument was a ramp angled at 27 degrees, able to observe the North Star every night. This meant that Jaipur sat at 27 degrees latitude, and the rest of the instruments could be built.

There was a 24-hour sundial, with one face for when Jaipur sat in the northern hemisphere and another for the south, capable of telling time through sun or starry night skies. A smaller sundial accurate to 20 seconds. A two-part instrument to tell the astrological sign (the month), each part the complement to the other, built to improve the precision of the older one-part instrument. The largest sundial in the world, accurate to 2 seconds. Well worth the money for understanding the instruments and how they worked.

Next, the City Palace. The monsoon rains started while in the courtyard here, the current residence of the young Maharaja in title. A spectacular residence that could not be entered is all I can say here.

The Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds) was the last Jaipur site. Built so the royal ladies could observe the happenings of the town without revealing their faces, the front facade was beautifully encrusted in jewels and rose marvelously over the streets below. From inside, there was a view of Jantar Mantar and the City Palace on one side, and the Bazaar on the other.

The drive to Agra began in the labouring heat of the mid-afternoon, a perfect time to enjoy the AC of the car. We reached Abhaneri, a small rural town 95km east of Jaipur. Home to the Harshat Mata Temple and the incredible Chand Baori Step Wells, it was a destitute little town with few tourists in the short time we were there. The step wells, 100 feet deep, were a testament to a bygone era in Indian history.

The drive to Agra continued. We arrived late at night at our next hotel. The drive was treacherous, full of potholes, vehicles without regard for lanes or traffic rules, and the most intense thunderstorm I have ever been a part of. An earthquake of the skies, I remember thinking, the clouds splitting asunder for a brief moment when the light, bright as the day, burst through them.

A brief dinner at the hotel of egg biryani, and off to bed. It was time for a sunrise.