In March 2004 I was 25 years old. With not a care in the world, no particular place to be and zero commitments to speak of, I packed up a rucksack and headed off to India. The future lay sparkling and I thought it would last forever. It was early evening and the thick, smoky […]Read More
Tag: Hotel Shajahan Agra
March 2004. After an intense week in India’s frenetic capital New Delhi, my travel mate Allan and I jumped on an equally hectic train to the city of Agra. Just about everything about India thus far had been nothing short of a relentless assault on the senses, including the seemingly simple process of boarding a train. […]Read More
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