After just ten days, chapter one- a short chapter- is over. 

I began its closing paragraphs with an Indian head massage on Saturday afternoon. I joined another girl at the guest house, Jenni (with an 'i'), and her friend for this, and for 30p I also thought I'd try threading. Boys, this is where a woman somehow uses two pieces of cotton string to scissor off and shape your eyebrows. Having (clearly) never attended to my eyebrows, I thought 'why not?' Why. Not. Well, it was successful on one level- my eyebrows look very dapper and I've been enjoying conversations that allow me to use them:

"Really?!" *aghast look, allows you to raise both eyebrows*

"Right." *unimpressed, raise just one*

"No!" *furrow them furiously*

On the other hand, I was also asked if I wanted my upper lip trimming. My upper lip trimming!? (*cock one eye brow, quizzically lower the other*) Never could a little question like this be more threatening to one's confidence (*mould each eyebrow into a sorrowful concave*) BUT (*firm upper brows*) I had my new eyebrows on so I was able to hold myself together and (*relax eyebrows*) politely decline. Now that the true shape (and use!!) of my eyebrows has been revealed to me, I accept, I may have to attend to them in the future more diligently. But, the upper lip? You guys warned me travelling makes you do some serious soul searching.

And, to the last day of Chapter One. I went to a city three hours away called Agra where the famous Taj Mahal is situated. I went with Jenni (with an 'i') who had kindly booked us a seat in Sleeper Class (the lowest ranking carriage) on the train. The views from the window were engaging- it appears the entire population of India use the railway side as a convenient toilet-but we arrived in good time. The Taj Mahal is, thankfully, everything you could want it to be; even if the photographic evidence of my visit looks like a painted background pin up. I'm sure most of you know it was built by (another) Sultan in the loving memory of his wife. The rest, I shall leave to you to imagine so that my descriptions wont taint your experience of it: it really is a life 'must do'. The rest of the day is best summarised in bullet points:

-Breakfast at roof top cafe overlooking Taj Mahal. Whilst all of you were getting in late from your Saturday night out, I was sipping cappuccinos in the Sun and staring at the Taj across pastel painted houses. I have decided that I must have a Taj-like building (the Taj Mogen ) before I accept any proposals in later life. 

-And then, we descended into Agra: a sprawling chaotic city which was celebrating a Muslim festival yesterday so was even more chaotic than usual. This is where our day got progressively worse:

* it took at least thirty minutes to barter an auto down (the tiny green and yellow taxi cars in my video) to an 'ok' price. Even then it was expensive. Agra is expensive because it is home to the Taj Mahal and therefore mekka to thousands of tourists each year. Exhausting arguing with these rude men who lean so proudly against their small Audis....sorry AUTOS.

*Jenni (with an 'i)** was insistent on seeing every tourist attraction. Must have walked ten kilometres in hot weather and paid rather a lot to see more old buildings. Again, they're extremely impressive, when you're not hot, hungry and tired. 

* The attention in Agra was worse- perhaps because there were two of us. Too many people stalking us, taking photos or staring aggressively. When teenage boys continuously try and snap you, you suspect its not because they want to add it to their album of 'albinos sighted'. 

*More awful auto prices, roller-coaster driving and had to forgo lunch and supper as no time! No time for food!  Who has no time for food??

*Waited to come home at some dodgy bus station for an hour. Enough said. 

*Arrived late in Delhi to find more loony auto drivers until eventually the police (who, one does not immediately trust) forced an auto to take us home. 

Now, I think I was tired but I was a little disappointed in myself to find myself asking for: clean toilet rolled toilets; buses with windows that shut; clean everything; and general anonymity. I'm sorry to say that I think my patience for India temporarily wore thin. Nothing like a bit of backpacking for two weeks to rejuvenate the spirits...

I head to a hotel today to meet the group and will be travelling through Northern India for two weeks. I expect I will have internet and will try and upload blog posts as and when! 

** Jenni (with an ‘i’) seemed to be under the impression that I was older than I was- was it my maturity, the depth of my knowledge, my refined sense of humour.....She was 29 I think, and ‘age’ unfortunately became a cross reference point for the things we had in common. So I have had to chortle at the fact that Carly (the hippytaveller) has come to India at the tender age of 20 (I’m 22), I’ve had to laugh at how the ‘youth of today’ behave (I’m 22), and I’ve had to nod my head when she reckoned that the early twenties (I’m 22) was a difficult time to travel to India (I’m 22). Now, I didn’t realise quite how bad this was until I saw on the train ticket she had put me down as 27 (!)- do I have the first signs of a wrinkle? Have I furrowed my brows too much? I didn’t want to embarrass her so when asked questions like “what music did you like when you were younger?” or “how old are your siblings?”, I gave ridiculously vague answers: “oh, you know, stuff, pop stuff, you know the stuff...” or “I’m the oldest. One brother is older than the other”.