Salim introduces us to our tour guide, who comes in the car with us. We head for the Taj in pre-dawn almost darkness. Arriving at the drop-off point, we are offered the choice of tuk-tuk or rickshaw, but decide we'd rather walk down the peaceful paths, where dogs lie in slumber. Up to the queue for security checks - one for ladies, one for men, while our guide fetches our tickets and brings bottles of water to us.
We enter the courtyard with its surrounding red stone builidings. Through a doorway, we catch a glimpse of the Taj. It looks unreal, like the floating backdrop of a stage.
At last, we walk through a gateway and there before us is the amazing ethereal presence of the Taj, cool and graceful in the fragile dawn light.
Our guide invites us to stand on a bench and pose for a photo, that will make us look like we are holding the Taj in our hands.
He sits us down to look from a distance and talks to us about the history of the Taj - but I'm afraid I am beginning to get impatient. I want to get much closer and am feeling jealous of people who are already up there, walking around on it. I want to be there too, being part of it and drinking in its presence.
Eventually, I get fidgetty and we are allowed to move on, leaving our shoes in the 'shoe library', we mount the stairs that take us up onto the Taj. At last, we get to see first hand how beautiful it is, how breath-taking the patterns and flowers. The amazing Suri script from the Koran, which H loves. Although, he does feel that the man who built it 'must have been a bit daft to do all this just for one bird - and a dead one at that'!
It is an extraordinary feeling to be with something so immense and elaborate and yet so seemingly perfect down to the last detail.
We enter the dim light of the crypt. Voices echo around the round room. Our guide uses a torch to show us how some of the stones are translucent - the cornellian and the marble.
We walk round to the river, which flows gently, carrying clumps of green weeds and vegetation, brought down by the monsoon rains.
The far bank of the river is misty and mysterious in the dawning light. We walk over to what is termed 'The Guest House', where our guide, ever eager to supervise the taking of a good photo, suggests we walk toward and away from the archway, so that we can see the image of the Taj unfold and fold again.
As the dawn light intensifies, the Taj takes on a golden glow and some of the precious stones begin to shimmer. The guide leaves us to enjoy ourselves quietly and we sit watching as the light continues to change and green parrots fly around us.
We walk back out, stopping off at the 'Diana' seat, where the guide won't take no for an answer from H and insists he will be photo'd there whether he likes it or not. This guy is good - he can even manage to make the usually stubborn H cave in under pressure!
We say our final goodbye, looking back through a tiny wooden doorway. Then H asks if we can have cycle rickshaws to take us back to the car. Our drivers walk at first, pushing us up the slight gradient. Once they are on the flat, they hop aboard and start to pedal.
There is a terrible smell and I realise it is most probably my rickshaw driver, who looks like he hasn't used much soap and water for some considerable time.
Our guide says that he wants us to see how the Taj was made, which roughly translates as, he wants to take us to a place where inlay products are made, where it is hoped we will buy some.
It is actually very interesting to see how the marble is cut and the jewels are shaped to make the inlays. The proprietor tells us that his family did the inlay work on the Taj and have continued to specialse in this work over 7 generations. We are then shown a series of marble inlay table tops 'Which we can ship over to England for you'.(most helpful)
Finally, I crack and choose and elephant, which I'm not sure I would have ever felt the need to own, without all this support. Subsequently I change my mind exchange for a set of coasters, (slightly more useful) which I pay £50 for. (Hmm, silly me).
Back to the hotel for breakfast, then at 11am, Salim picks us up for the next leg of our journey, to Jaipur. Heading out of town, we reach a cross-roads, where a combination of lorries, cars, tuk-tuks, motorbikes and cows have formed such a dense tangle, the police have to intervene. It seems that everyone from every direction has just kept pushing forward, creating stalemate all round, but with a little supervision, gaps are created and we make it through.
We pass a lake where buffalo are enjoyng a swim. Salim tells us that the buffalo are very important, being the providers of milk, cheese and curd. There are lorries, packed with people all standing up, which Salim tells us are the illegal alternative to buses. H is also chuffed to see our first stretch tuk-tuks and also lorries with exposed front engines.
It is 212km to Jaipur, but once we are on the toll roads, it is an easy drive. Salim asks if we would like to visit the Red Fort, but we elect to keep the time for visiting the Monkey Temple at Jaipur, later on. Out in the countryside, there is seldom an absence of people along the road sides, groups of women in brillant coloured sari's look so stunning en masse, like groups of birds with exotic plumage. Some of them carry huge bundles of greenery back from the fields, on their heads.
At one point, Salim, who's trying to organise train tickets for the next leg of our tour, pulls over into a layby to talk on his mobile. A dignified elderly man with a big umbrella in his hand walks over to the car and peers long and hard into the windows with unabashed curiosity.
We stop off for lunch, where I'm pleased to buy a Taj fridge magnet for my collection. H buys a leather journal and a Holy Cow magnet for the Llanfair messroom fridge.
The last part of the journey includes a deluge of rain and I pity the man who is travelling clinging on to the outside of the back of a bus. It is raining so hard, we can barely see out with wipers on double speed and narrowly miss hitting a goat, which nonchalantly wanders in the road ahead of us.
The rain is way too heavy for us to make our visit to the Monkey Temple and we carry on into Jaipur, stopping off to go and book an ayurvedic massage for ourselves, for tomorrow night. Then on to Shahpura House Hotel, www.shahpurahouse.com, which is breath-takingly beautiful. We're formally welcomed with a drink and a talk about the hotel, before being shown to our room.
First things first, we decide to take a dip in the outdoor hotel pool. It is fab swimming out there in the pouring rain and an attendant comes and switches on the underwater pool lights for us.
Quick shower and change and time for dinner in the restaurant, which is more ornate than a gypsy caravan. The waiters look fab in their turbans, waist coats and jodhpurs. My dinner is a little strange though - a small number of tiny dumplings in a thin yellow sauce.
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