Showing posts with label India. Show all posts
Showing posts with label India. Show all posts

Wednesday 13 March 2024

Marari Beach: India's Deep South Part 15 (With March 2024 Update)

This post was originally dated 11-Mar-2016 after our first visit. We returned last week and have looked at the changes in the intervening 8 years.

Rest, Recreation and Refuse

9,11,12-Mar-2016

Revisited 12,13-Mar-2024
As the final stop on our Kerala and More tour.
Post Updates are in red.

India
Kerala
The village of Mararikulam is only 11km north of Alapuhzza so we arrived before midday. The area was new to Thomas and in finding the Xandari Pearl Resort he was quick to seek directions from locals. Lynne pointedly approved; ‘so unlike your idiotic self’ being the unspoken implication.

The village is a ribbon development with a school, a couple of small shops and several well-separated resort hotels.

Mararikulum is too close to Alapphuza to mark on a map of this scale

The Xandari Pearl

The Xandari Pearl opened last year and while leading us to our bungalow the receptionist told us proudly of their green credentials. They grow all their herbs and vegetables, source fish from the local fishermen and have their own drinking water supply. The grounds contain 600 coconut trees and numerous mangoes and cashews.

Cashew nut, Marari Beach

‘We are very health-conscious,’ she continued, ‘so we serve fruit juice, tea and coffee but no alcohol.’ She tried to sell this as a plus, but whether as a consequence of Kerala’s semi-prohibition (we had met the same problem in another new hotel in Munnar) or of a Muslim management’s conscious decision, it was bad news to those who feel that a hot day at the seaside without a cold beer is like an idli without chutney. The nearby alternatives amounted to… well… nothing, so we would have to suck it up – or, more precisely, not suck it up. Fortunately enough rum had survived for pre-dinner drinks or night caps - or both on the last day.

Our introduction this time was a little less preachy. They neglected to mention their green credentials, but informed us they now had a ‘beer and wine’ licence, though I had, of course, carefully checked this before making the booking. We were again properly equipped for nightcaps with a bottle of wonderfully named whisky.

The Scots have several ways of spelling the name Mackintosh,
but the resourceful distillers of Bangalore have found one they never thought of

Our Accomodation

Our bungalow was like a small Portuguese villa, painted white inside and out,.....

Our white painted bungalow, Xandari Pearl Resort, Marari Beach

….with a curving white wall enclosing a private garden.

A glass or rum in our private garden, Marari Beach

This year we were upgraded, and our garden included a glorified children’s paddling facility described as a ‘swimming pool.’

Almost big enough to swim in

The interior was light and spacious with a door through to the outside bathroom; the toilet and washbasins under cover, the shower (and a small garden) surrounded by more curving white wall. I love showering in the fresh air (not just because the shaving mirror never mists up) and this was the finest outside shower we have yet encountered. The drawback is that when visiting the bathroom at night, the step from the air-conditioned interior to the hot bathroom (and it remains hot even in the hours before dawn) takes your breath away, while the return resembles entering an ice box.

Looking from the covered section of the bathroom to the outside shower, Marari Beach

There was another problem, which the management helpfully flagged up on the bathroom door.

Unfortunately sound advice

We had our own insect repellent, they provided more plus an electrically charged badminton racket that eliminates insects with a satisfying ‘crack’ should you hit them, and crystals which give off insect repelling fumes when heated. By deploying our full armoury we could drink a night-cap under the garden fan in comfort, but a bite or two over a couple of days was inevitable – and mosquitos have always found me particularly toothsome. It is worth noting that local mosquitos do not carry malaria, or any other unpleasant disease.

A Life of Leisure

I shall not bother with an hour-by-hour account of our three night stay as much of it involved lazing by the pool,...

Lounging by the pool, Marari Beach

…or wallowing in it.

Wallowing in the pool, Marari Beach

And then there was...

The Beach

We walked down to the village, the road was narrow and busy and there was nothing to see. At what we took for the centre we turned towards the beach passing a Hindu shrine,….

Hindu shrine, Marari Beach

… a Christian shrine….

Christian shrine, Marari Beach

…and a pool where one man cast his net, though there was an ocean less than 100m behind him.

A pool where one (eccentric?) man chose to fish, Marari Beach

We returned along Marari Beach, walking a part of the ‘eleven kilometres of golden sand lapped by the warm blue Arabian Sea’ to quote the brochures. It is the home of fishermen and, in the strip between high and low water, as many small crabs as I have ever seen. Largely undeveloped, Marari Beach is in its natural condition, which unfortunately means covered in the detritus of our civilization, plastic bottles, single sandals, floats, pieces of rope, and more than a few things on whose origins I would not care to speculate. There were also ample dog faeces and a dead waterfowl, its decaying corpse being rolled in the shallows by the incoming waves. It is not the beach that dreams are made of, though it could be if the hotels cooperated to clean it up.

Marari Beach, Kerala
The white objects standing on their ends are polystyrene fishing boats (see below)

Things have changed at the beach. In 2016 it was empty except for fishermen, but now the village end has been developed. There is no beach restaurant yet to challenge the hegemony of the resort hotels, but beach goers can buy a snack, ice cream or coconut.

Marari beach development

The Xandari Pearl has also sponsored a wire ‘bottle’ to reduce the number of plastic bottles carelessly discarded, and there has been progress all round.

Litter bin and toilets - there is much to clean up yet, but this is progress

There is less rubbish on the beach, there are still sandals and fishing nets, even a lonely toothbrush but the plastic bottles, the dogs and their faeces have largely disappeared.

Lonely toothbrush, Marari Beach

On Wednesday afternoon the area between the village and our hotel was busy. A vigorous many-a-side game of beach football was in progress, while beyond them was the ever-fascinating sight of a group of Indian ladies of mature years going for a paddle. Fully dressed and with arms linked they edged carefully forward into the water, making a little jump and squeal with every wave. On reaching knee height, they stood and laughed and jumped and squealed until they have had enough, then they retreat to the land. Fortunately, in this climate a soggy sari soon dries.

We spent a little time on the beach every day, accessed through the coconut palms and past a hut where a security guard ensured no undesirables found their way into the hotel's somewhat exclusive version of paradise. He gave us a cheery wave as we came and went, few of the other guests ever ventured out and I think he was glad to see somebody.

The security guard was still there and still waving. We had been told on arrival that although the hotel could not cordon off a section of beach for our sole use (and quite right too, beaches are for everybody) they had put out chairs and umbrellas for guests. Ensuring the right number, and only the appropriate bums settled on the seats, was as extra responsibility for Mr Security. The task was hardly arduous, given that the hotel residents had no more desire to venture beyond their magic kingdom in 2024 than in 2016.

The entirety of our designated seating area

Walking on the beach one afternoon a child appeared from the trees. 'Hello, where do you come from?' she asked. Lynne told her. 'What is your name?' She told her that too and, just as in the schoolbook this conversation comes from Lynne asked 'and what is your name?' It was long and complicated as so many south Indian names are. Then the girl said 'Money.' 'No,' Lynne answered and she went away. She did not look ragged or poor, she was just trying it on. Tourism brings jobs and development, but not all its effects are benign.

Wildlife

We sat and watched the crabs popping up out of their burrows and scuttling along the sand. We watched the dogs too who seem to live on the beach, chasing the crabs every time they put in an appearance. Perhaps the crabs are part of their diet - maybe most of their diet. The time spent pointing my camera at crabs who scuttled off as I was focusing was eventually rewarded with one decent photo.

Ghost crab, Marari Beach
There are 22 species of ghost crab. This is (probably) Ocypode Brevicornis or Ocypode macrocera

I was not sorry to see the back of the dogs, but where were the crabs? Instead of being surrounded by scuttling decapods, we had to look hard to find any.

I snapped a couple of birds as well, a stint or sandpiper of some description...

A stint or sandpiper of some description, Marari Beach

…and an Asian dowitcher. I know little about birds and if anybody challenges my identifications I will quickly back down.

Asian dowitcher (I think) Marari Beach

Near the beach, Lynne got a good picture of a common crow butterfly – they would not stay still long enough for me to focus.

Common Crow butterfly, Marari Beach

Fishing

Of the fishermen, some threw their nets while wading in the shallows, others unfurled them from tradtional fishing boats…

The tradtional fishing boat along this coast

….while others paddled along on the polystyrene craft that can be seen all over the beach. Light and cheap they are popular with poorer fishermen, but although the boats are not very durable their constituent parts are almost indestructible and add to the world's microplasic blight.

Fisherman on a polystyrene boat

We were delighted that the polystyrene ‘boats’ had gone. The new version, stood on end like the old one, seemed far less prone to precipitating a toxic plastic snowstorm into the ocean.

Boats for the poorer fishermen - no longer polysterene

Swimming

Lynne was happy to paddle in the warm water but regarded the steeply shelving beach and occasional waves with alarm.

Lynne paddles in the Arabian Sea, Marari Beach

Unlike Lynne I am naturally drawn to water, but I inspected the waves warily.

Watching the waves warily, Marari Beach

I had seen the filth on the beach and suspected the water might be the same. I could not see any floating turds or rotting cadavers, so I took my shirt off and waded gingerly forward. But the danger does not come from what you can see; was I walking into a broth of cholera, diphtheria and a dozen more deadly diseases I have never heard of and have no immunity to? I was still debating with myself when a sudden wave took the decision for me.

The wave makes the decision for me, Marari Beach

After that I might just as well swim. I did not stay in long and I kept my mouth shut tight, though doubtless there are a dozen other ways for death to gain entrance. I came to no harm and am happy to boast that I have swum in the Arabian Sea, but felt no need to repeat the experience this time.

Floating, if not quite swimming in the Arabian Sea, Marari Beach

Eating and Drinking

We ate breakfast, lunch and dinner at the hotel restaurant; there was nowhere else within walking distance and no tuk-tuks in Mararikulum. It seemed expensive at first – a single chapatti cost more than a ‘pure veg meal’ outside - but it was appropriate for the standard of the hotel and cheap enough by international standards. The menu was not long with full meals and lighter bites, and there was little that one or other (or both) of us did not sample. Seer fish in a masala crust,...

Seer fish with a masala crust

This is the 2024 version of the dishm sevred with a bowl of garlic rice big enough to feed six. 'Seer Fish' is a name applied to several species of large relatives of the makerel, that are chopped into steaks rather than filleted.

... spicy tomato and vegetable soup, Kerala fish curry with tamarind and coconut, chicken salad with papaya dressing, chicken stuffed with nuts, vegetables and lime, lamb in yogurt gravy with hot pepper sauce and desserts of ice cream or vatalappam (coconut custard with jaggery, cashews, cardamom, cloves, and nutmeg) were all elegantly presented and straddled European and Indian traditions without insulting either. The Indian mackerel, selected from the fresh fish trolley, filleted then fried with a masala crust and served with ‘English’ vegetables was particularly good.

We drank lime juice or water (though cold beer would have been better). Carafes of the hotel’s spring water were set out an hour or more before serving. Sitting by the pool a raised arm would bring a carafe of water with floating lemon (good) and cucumber (not so) but that was never chilled either.

In 2024 the menu was bigger and more varied, and of course there was a beer and wine licence. They had a good wine selection, but I am not prepared to pay 4,000 rupees (£40) for a bottle of Jacob’s Creek., and anyway Indian food goes better with beer. We drank Kingfisher, the largest selling brand, which I enjoy now they have lowered the glycerol content.

We ate lunch in the company of an egret, who seemed to have taken to us.

Our friendly egret

Lynne wisely had a salad while I chose squid rings in a masala crust. The crust was robustly spiced and the squid was perfectly cooked – not an easy thing to do. There was too much of it (well I had to eat it all!) and it could have done with some greenery, but I enjoyed it. It is, though, not quite my favourite way of eating squid (see Eating the Algarve).

Squid with a masala crust

I made up by having a vegetarian evening meal, though it was still hardly green, being based on black chick peas in a brown curry sauce.

Going veggie, even if it doesn't look like it

Lynne enjoyed her sweet pepper stuffed with cheese and cauliflower.

Now that's a stuffed pepper

The hotel promised ‘music at 8 o’clock.’ They set up across the corner of the sward surrounding the pool. The music was recorded, but the solo dancer was live, if a little too far away. She introduced each dance in clear English and seemed to me (and I probably had the best view in the restaurant) a very accomplished performer 0 though I admit to knowing diddly squat about Indian classical dancing - or indeed any dancing.

Indian classical dance (hampered by location)

I thought she was worth more than half-hearted applause from the small group of distant, distracted dinners. Sadly, she only stayed for 20 minutes or so.

Breakfasts were good, there was a buffet but Indian breakfasts could also be ordered. My dosa with chutneys and sambar looked as good as it tasted.

Dosa, sambar and chutnies

I ate the same breakfast this year, but it was better presented so I have used the 2024 photograph.

And Finally

Each evening we went to the beach at sunset. This has been a theme throughout this holiday, indeed in the whole blog, and our failures continued on Marari Beach. Since we reached the west coast the sun has regularly disappeared not into the sea but into a band of clouds above the horizon. Some things do not change!

The sun about to sink into the clouds, Marari Beach

So that is the Xandari Pearl Resort beside Marari Beach. It is a lovely hotel, the bungalows are all you could want, the surroundings are beautiful, the food is good and the staff friendly and efficient - pity about the lack of a drinks licence. And why do Marari's collection of upmarket hotels not get together to clean up their shared beach - it is a disgrace. I am happy to have been able to report progress on most fronts.

Thursday 13 April 2023

Old Stones: The Four Finest Piles of Old Stones the World has to Offer (possibly)

Four Places Everyone Should Visit
(If They are Lucky Enough to Have the Time, Money and Good Health)

What is this all about, then?

This post was going to be called The Biggies and showcase the ‘Five Finest Sites in the World’. I made a preliminary list of ten, eight of them in Asia, two in North Africa. My ‘world,’ if hardly parochial is apparently not all-encompassing. Also, all were piles of old stones, the youngest almost 400 years old, the oldest over 4,000. I do like an elegant ruin; indeed I aspire to become one (though not all of these are ruins). As this post grew in length, I decided this would become the first of an occasional series of ‘old stone’ posts, and perhaps I would do landscapes and other categories later. Two of these sites already have dedicated posts - follow the links to find out much more about them - the other two appear in this blog for the first time.

I intended to count down from ten (or will it be 12?) like Alan Freeman on Sundays long ago, but I started at the wrong end, so on this post I can only countdown from....

Mohammad Khatami
Photo - Wikipedia

Number 4. Iran has been a difficult country to visit since the 1980 revolution, but there have been periods of détente. The presidency of Mohammad Khatami (1997-2005) was one such and we visited in 2000. Iran is the land of my birth, though my parents returned to the UK with me when I was 6 months old. The visit was primarily to find out where I was born (see Finding my Way Home and two subsequent posts) but I am not so delusional as to include that modest house in this company. We did regular tourist stuff, too – Iran has much to offer – and for a lover of old stones and the ruined glories of long ago, there are few finer places than…

Persepolis

Visited 2000

Around 1000 BCE, the Persians, a nomadic Iranian people, settled in much of what is now western Iran. Near the beginning of the 7th century BCE a possibly mythical King Achaemenes ruled a small vassal city of the Median Empire. The descendant of Achaemenes, the Achaemenids, carried on in similar vein for several generations until one of them, Cyrus II, later Cyrus the Great, became more ambitious. Under Cyrus, his son Cambysess II and then Darius I (kinship debatable), the Achaemenid Empire became the largest the world had then known.

The Achaemenid Empire
This is the work of Ali Zifan reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International

The empire thrived from 550 to 330 BCE. Conquering such a vast area is a feat of arms, holding it for 200 years is a feat of administration. A professional civil service using the official language for administration, but allowing for the multicultural nature of the empire, organised road building, a standing army and an efficient postal system.

The empire had several capital cities, but Persepolis, was a ceremonial centre rather than a city. Built on an artificial platform in a curve of the Zagros Mountains 60 km northeast of the modern city of Shiraz, it boasted five palaces and several grand entrances.

Iran
Shiraz (ringed in red) is the capital of Fars Province

As an emissary from a vassal state, you would might spend time in a waiting room…

Lynne looking lonely in Xerxes waiting room

…before passing through the Gate of All the Nations.

Lynne passes through Gate of the Nations

Once inside you might view the Palace of Darius.

Palace of Darius, Persepolis

The palace is now a shell, but many carvings survive, particularly those on the pedestal of the palace.

Persian Soldiers, Persepolis

I have two examples, the Persian soldiers above, and the emissaries bearing gifts to the emperor below.

Emissaries, Persepolis

So how did this mighty empire come to a juddering halt in 330 BCE? Simples, the Trojans were warned to beware Greeks bearing gifts, the Persian’s problem was Greeks bearing grudges.

There had been two incursions into Greece during the Achaemenid expansion. The first by Darius I in 490 BCE had ended with a crushing defeat at the Battle of Marathon. In 480 Xerxes I had another go. Leading a vast army, he fought his way through heroic resistance at the Battle of Thermopylae and eventually took Athens. Xerxes then went home, leaving a general in charge and a year later the Greeks reasserted themselves.

Both incursions had come through Macedonia. When Alexander III succeeded his father as King of Macedonia in 332 at the age of 20 he first fulfilled his father’s dream of uniting the Greeks, and then, flushed with success, conceived the ambition of conquering the world and being Great, and on the way he could stick it to the Persians.

Rampaging across western Asia, Alexander took Susa, one the Achaemenid capitals, found his way through the Zagros mountains, narrowly winning the Battle of the Persian Gates (a mirror image of Thermopylae) and entered Persepolis. He stayed there for several months, resting and celebrating while the emperor, Darius III recruited a new army.

During an evening of carousing, according to the Greek chroniclers, Thaïs, the mistress of one of Alexander’s generals (and possibly of Alexander as well) suggested setting fire to the palace. And so they did, though in the morning Alexander bitterly regretted their actions. The earliest chronicler wrote 400 years after the event, so this may only be a story, but there is good archaeological evidence of burning. A fire (and 2,370 years weathering) account for the state of Persepolis today.

When Darius was ready, Alexander marched to meet him at Gaugamela. Darius had a million men according one chronicler, perhaps 100,000 realistically, Alexander half as many. Darius’ men were largely new recruits, Alexander’s battle hardened and commanding armies in battle just happened to be his superpower. So ended the Achaemenid Empire.

Naqsh-e Rostam

Nearby is Naqsh-e Rostam, the necropolis of the Achaemenid kings. The tombs of Darius II, Artaxerxes I, Darius I and Xerxes I are hollowed out of the cliff face and a fifth, unfinished tomb may have been intended for Darius III. After Darius’ defeat and death, Alexander the Great gave him an honourable burial, though presumably not in this tomb. All the tombs were (honourably?) looted before Alexander and his army moved on.

Achaemenid necropolis, Naqsh-e Rostam

Pasargadae

Pasargadae, 30mins drive from Persepolis, was the the first capital of the Achaemenid Empire. There are several things to see on a spread-out site, the best is the Tomb of Cyrus the Great. It is difficult to miss, even if the great man is not there

Tomb of Cyrus the Great, Pasargadae

At Number 3 is the major city of a civilization that waxed as the Achaemenids waned.

Petra

Visited 2019

Potted History

Petra was built by the Nabataeans, an Arab people who dominated the Northern Arabia/Southern Levant area from the 4th century BCE, controlling a trading network of oases but having no firm borders. Their capital, if they had one, is assumed to have been Petra – known to them as Raqmu.

Petra is in southern Jordan

Alexander the Great whizzed past around 330 BCE on his way to conquer somewhere else. Because of or despite Alexander, Nabataean culture adopted many Hellenistic elements. The Romans arrived in 106 CE and stayed, creating a new border province of Arabia Petrea, from which we derive ‘Petra’.

After the Romans, Petra was forgotten by the outside world though locals continued to live among the ruins until 1985 when the last inhabitants were moved from the archaeological site to a purpose-built village.

Growing interest in classical culture in the 17th century brought knowledge of the Roman province of Arabia Petraea and provoked interest in the, possibly mythical, lost city of Petra. The first modern European to visit was Swiss explorer Jean Louis Burckhardt in 1812. More travellers followed, then the first trickle of tourists and now they arrive daily in their thousands.

The City

Most tourists enter Petra through the Siq, and there is no more dramatic entrance to an ancient city.

Entrance to the siq, Petra

‘Siq’ is usually translated as ‘canyon’, i.e. a gorge carved by running water, but the entrance to Petra is actually a crack, 1.2km long and up to 200m deep in a single, huge block of stone. I struggle to imagine tectonic forces so mighty they could do such a thing.

The siq, 1.2 km long, 200m deep and of varying widths, Petra

The Nabataeans saw the potential of the siq, as a ceremonial and religious entrance. They had a full pantheon of gods, but their portrayal of them was schematic at most. Betyls – carved stone blocks representing gods – appear in niches….

A minimalist Nabataean god in a niche in the wall of the siq, Petra

The siq has been dug out to its original level, towards the end the ancient flooring remains in situ. We paused where Indiana Jones raised his hat and brushed away some sweat before galloping down the siq (IJ and the Last Crusade)…

Ooh look, that Indiana Jones isn't what used to be, the Siq, Petra

…before emerged onto the sandy square facing the so-called Treasury, actually the tomb of a Nabataean king. Legend has it that while pursuing the Israelites, ‘pharaoh’ hid his treasure in the 3.5m high urn on the façade, hence the ‘Treasury’. Some locals believed this unlikely story - the urn is pockmarked with their rifle shots.

The Treasury, Petra

Continuing through the Street of Façades, we entered the main valley by the theatre. The theatre was built by the Nabataeans and enlargement by the Romans to hold 8,500 (30% of Petra’s population).

The theatre, Petra

The Colonnaded Street was the main street of Roman Petra. Once impressive, the marble-clad sandstone columns are now stumps and the porticos lining the eastern end have gone.

The Colonnaded Street, Petra

At the Temenos Gateway we were ‘arrested’ by two Nabataean guards – though they were not taking their job very seriously.

Two very ferocious Nabataean security guards, Petra

Beyond the gate, the sacred area is centred on the Qasr Al Bint – the Palace of the Daughter. Whose daughter? Well, Pharaoh’s, obviously, she built it while he was hiding his treasure! It is really a Nabataean temple, built c30 BCE, and the sacrificial altar on the edge of the street was once covered with marble.

Qasr Al Bint, Petra

Four ‘Royal’ Tombs occupy a shelf above the valley bottom opposite the theatre, though the shape of the rock makes it possible to photograph only two at a time.

The Silk Tomb (left) and Urn Tomb (right). two of the four 'Royal' tombs

Climbing onto the shelf we paused to pick up some shards of pottery – the ground is covered with it – and two small unnaturally round stones, presumably slingshot. We put them with the Roman coins we had bought as a gift for our grandson.

Climbing up to the rock shelf, Royal Tombs, Petra

Steps lead off from the Street of Façades climbing up a crack in the rock leading to the High Place of Sacrifice. The steep climb soon gives views over the street and the theatre.

The end of the Street of Façades and the theatre, Petra

Then the crack narrows and the steps negotiate boulder-strewn sections….

The path to the High Place of Sacrifice picks its way round boulders, Petra

After forty minutes toiling in hot sun, we reached the top of the cleft, but there was more climbing yet, signs pointing the way over bare rock.

Nearing the top of the cleft, towards the High Place of Sacrifice, Petra

We never reached The High Place, Lynne ran out of puff and I wimped out when confronted with an exposed rocky height.

I'm all right there, but I could not make the few extra paces onto the exposed rocky top, not quite the High Place of Sacrifice, Petra

Epilogue

My photos suggest Petra was not particularly crowded, but we started early, kept ahead of the tide and when that was no longer possible, explored the lesser visited corners. Returning later to the Treasury, the sandy square was like Tescos on the Saturday before Christmas while exiting via the siq reminded me of being in the crowd leaving a football match. On the days a cruise ship docks in Aqaba several thousand extra tourists are bussed from the Red Sea port.

Petra is in danger of being loved to death. Tramping feet cause erosion while human sweat humidify the atmosphere and encourages mould. There is now a proper drainage and sewerage system, expert restoration is underway, and the site is litter free, so there is hope. Unvisited, Petra could be preserved indefinitely, but what is the point of a treasure that nobody sees.?

Number Two involves a visit to India for the youngest pile of old stones in my list, and undoubtedly the most beautiful..

The Taj Mahal

Visited 2000

The best time to see the Taj Mahal is at dawn. We arrived early, though not that early; I had feared a long queue - visiting the world's greatest tourist attractions is never a solitary experience – but we were in in minutes.

The Taj Mahal is in the city of Agra, 230km south east of Delhi

Everybody knows what the Taj Mahal looks like. I remember seeing photographs as a child and thinking 'I want to go there, I want to see that.' With a long-held ambition in imminent danger of being realised, I found myself fretting; it was only a building, how could it possibly justify the hype?

The Taj emerges as you walk through the gatehouse. The first sight stops people in their tracks and most – including me – take a photo. Some will experience the Taj almost entirely through a camera.

First glimpse of the Taj Mahal through the gatehouse

At the far end of a serene, slightly misty and at this hour almost empty garden, was a building of gleaming white marble apparently floating in the air. It was taller than I expected, though perhaps not as wide, but the proportions are, in a way I do not comprehend, perfect.

The Taj Mahal floating in the morning sky

The garden, is quartered by water, as the Persians perceive the Garden of Paradise. We had seen Humayun’s tomb, an earlier variant on this theme in Delhi, but the Taj, blending Ottoman and Indian styles with the Persian, is the pinnacle of Mughal architecture; building and setting conspiring to dazzle the eye and quicken the heart.

Shah Jahan (ruled 1628-58) was the fifth Mughal emperor, and great-grandson of Humayun. Mumtaz Mahal, his favourite wife (he had nine to choose from) and the love of his life died in 1631, aged 38, giving birth to her fourteenth child. The Taj Mahal is the tomb her grief-stricken husband built for her. Starting in 1632 it took 21 years to complete.

We took our time walking through the garden. About half way down is the bench where Princess Diana once sat looking rather lonely.

On Princess Diana's seat, Taj Mahal

Close up it was no less magnificent, still seemingly ethereal and floating despite its vast bulk. I felt compelled to touch the wall as though placing a palm flat against the marble connected me to Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal, to the thousands of unknown craftsmen and to concepts of love and beauty. I cultivate a somewhat Vulcan approach to life, but this 400-year-old pile of stone spoke to parts of me whose existence I rarely acknowledge.

An even closer look, Taj Mahal, Agra

The decoration is as remarkable as the building. There is calligraphy….

Calligraphy round the doorway, Taj Mahal

...and carving...

Carvings, Taj Mahal

… and the walls are covered with Pietra Dura, a technique involving fixing small carefully shaped pieces of tortoiseshell, mother of pearl and semi-precious stones into indentations carved in the marble.

Pietra Dura, Taj Mahal

Everywhere there is symmetry. The building is symmetrical, the gardens are symmetrical and the mosque facing the Taj on its left is balanced by family quarters on the right. The tomb of Mumtaz Mahal stands in the very centre of the building – where else should she be? – but in 1658 when Shah Jahan died, Aurangzeb, his son, successor and for the final years of his life, his jailer, decided his parents should lie beside each other in death. Ironically, only the tomb of Shah Jahan breaks the symmetry he created.

Later we visited a pietra dura workshop. Using diamond tipped wheels turned by muscle-power, the workers cut the gemstones to fit the spaces carved in the marble. Many hours of highly skilled effort are required to produce a finished article, which can be as small as a coaster or as large as a table. These men are the spiritual descendants of those who built, or at least decorated, the Taj, quite possibly, they the literal descendants, too.

Grinding the stones for Pietra Dura. Agra

And finally, at Number One, the great-granddaddy of them all. I could change my mind about the order of my original ten, but I would never change the top two. The lyrical beauty of the Taj Mahal stands head and shoulders above everything.... except the awe-inspiring size and immense antiquity of…

The Pyramids

Saqqara

The Great pyramids are on western edge of Cairo

Visited 1980 and 2010

There are 118 pyramids in Egypt and another 200 in Sudan, but ‘The Pyramids’ is generally taken to mean the three Great Pyramids of Giza and their accompanying Sphynx, on the western edge of Cairo, the biggest city in Africa.

So, to be perverse, I will start at Saqqara, 20km to the south, with the Step Pyramid or more correctly the Pyramid of Djoser (or Djeser and Zoser) because it came first. Built 2667-2648 BCE it is far from the oldest existing human structure (Wikipedia lists 46 more venerable buildings, including Wayland’s Smithy on the Ridgeway in Oxfordshire) but it is the world’s oldest large-scale cut stone construction.

The Pyramid of Djoser, 2010, at the start of a long refurbishment that finished in 2020

This pyramid is also important because of inscriptions mentioning Imhotep. In later centuries the story of Imhotep was mythologised until he was eventually deified, but nobody is quite sure what he really did. It is conjectured that he was the builder, building supervisor or architect of the step pyramid, but whatever his role, his is the earliest known name of someone who was neither a ruler nor a military leader.

The Great Pyramids of Giza

Visited 1966, 1980 and 2009

Me aged 15 and the Sphynx, aged 4500
August 1966

I was a lucky lad, I first saw the pyramids in 1966, aged 15, on one of the then popular ‘educational cruises’. The experience may or may not have changed my life, but it certainly gave it a hefty shove in what I now think of as the right direction.

In 1966, and still when Lynne and I visited in 1980, the site was entirely open, though payment was, I think, taken for entering the pyramids (duck low and ignore the stench of sweaty feet). By the time we returned in 2009 it was all fenced and there was an entry fee.

The complex contains three main pyramids, several smaller ones, the remains of funerary and valley temples and, of course the Sphynx. All were built during the 4th Dynasty of the Old Kingdom (27th to 25th centuries BCE)

The Pyramid of Khufu, the 2nd Pharaoh of the dynasty, is the oldest and biggest, standing some 140m high.

The Pyramid of Khufu, 2009

The Pyramid of Khafre, the 4th of the dynasty, is 135m high and its peak retains the alabaster that once covered all three main pyramids.

The Pyramids of Khafre (central) and Menkaure (behind), 2009

The Sphynx was built during the reign of Khafre. The limestone statue of a creature with the head of a human, and the body of a lion faces the rising sun.

The Sphynx and the Pyramids of Khafre and Menkaure, 2009

The face of the Sphynx may represent Khafre.

The time-battered but still beautiful face of the Sphynx

The Pyramid of Menkaure, the 5th of the dynasty, is smaller, only 65m high.

In the early 1950s engineers noticed a limestone wall by Khufu’s Pyramid and a lot of digging led to the discovery of a large stone box containing the 1,224 cedar pieces of the solar boat which had been disassembled after carrying Khufu to his resting place (4,000 years ago a branch of the Nile circled the Giza plateau).

The stone box that contained the components of the Solar Boat, 2009

The boat was fully re-assembled by 1968 and the construction of a dedicated climate-controlled museum, a few metres from where the ship was found, was completed in 1982. We were able to see the preserved boat in 2009, though it, and its museum, have now been relocated to the new Grand Egyptian Museum.

The Solar Boat of Khufu, 2009

A 4,500-year-old wooden boat, complete in every detail! I think that is as good as it gets.