Fatehpur Sikri on tuk-tuk and back to Delhi by train

First of all, this is what was presented to me as a "salad" on the train last night; I believe it was two slices of cucumber, several radishes and a hot pepper.  The man sitting next to me turned out to be a professor of some biotechnology subject at Delhi University, and he couldn't believe I ate it!  I'm starved for fresh vegetables!!!  I'm a salad gal, after all

These two photos are farewell as I tuk-tuked my way to the train station, Salim at the helm, and I swerving and bumping along in the back seat, waving to strangers just to see them smile and maybe even laugh; sometimes I just like to see that the world doesn't have to take itself quite so seriously...

I went to Katepur Sikri by Tuk Tuk, not Salim's but a fancy new one driven by a man's whose name I simply didn't catch.  He spoke no English, had heavy dents in his face, and all his teeth were ringed in the black from beetle nut.  Another man joined him in the front seat, and when I tell you that it is hot on the highway in those things, I am not lying!  It must have been 120 inside there.  When we got to the bus station, they left me and I wandered, looking for some old palaces, built, as you will remember for Akbar's three wives, a Christian, a Muslim and a Hindi.  These bars, I was told by someone who spoke a little English, were put up by the English; at least they knew these places were treasures!

This was my first attempt, and I walked up this rather desserted road to find nothing but ruins, until I staggered FINALLY onto something that looked more promising, and indeed it was!  I'm hungry for breakfast right now so will post only a few photos.

I did see a bird flying, and the green was spectacular, so I looked for it in the trees and found this little parrot!

This is a vista from the ruins.  That old Akbar sure knew where to situate his pad!

Now we get to the houses and the real site, which was incredible, but as I said, I'm hungry.

The work in the clau was extraordinary if you can see all the different designs and patterns chiselled into this wall.

And finally, the great mosque where the poor, exhausted imam was sound asleep on the floor.  When the time came, he had to get up and lead the prayers all over again; it didn't give me much encouragement to think that he slept in between them.  Surely MY minister doesn't sleep between sermons!!

Over and out for now.   It's a new day.  I'm back in Delhi after arriving after midnight and being told by the guest house that I had to go off into the streets to sleep because they room keys were all locked up and they were done for the night.  I barrelled on through them until I found a wonderful little man with a stick and some keys; he let me into one of the rooms, I threw myself under the cold shower, fell into bed and didn't get up until the man came with "Bed Tea" this morning! Avanti!