India is so much more than the Taj Mahal

A soft, stubborn haze that swallowed the famous white marble, hid the domes, and blurred the very monument I had travelled so far to see. For a few moments, the disappointment was sharp. This was meant to be the moment, the one the guidebooks build everything around.  But India has a very special way of gently re‑writing your expectations. As the days unfolded, I realised something powerful: India is so much more than a single view of the Taj Mahal. It is the sounds of old bazaars, the fragrance of chai and spices, the warmth of people, and the sheer variety of landscapes and stories you encounter along the way.  This is the story of that journey: through Delhi, Shimla, Jaipur and Agra (with a stop at Fatehpur Sikri en route), and how a foggy morning became the catalyst for discovering a deeper, richer India.

Delhi: first encounter with India’s living history

Delhi was my landing place, and in many ways the perfect introduction to India. It gives you everything at once: history, chaos, calm, colour, and the sense that the past and present are in constant conversation.

In Old Delhi, narrow lanes hummed with rickshaws, street food stalls and tiny shops selling everything from wedding saris to copper pots. The air was a collage of aromas: frying samosas, incense curling out of temple doors, and the irresistible sweetness of jalebi. Standing at Jama Masjid, looking out over the tangle of rooftops, I felt India as something lived rather than simply observed.

Then, in New Delhi, the mood shifted entirely. Broad boulevards, grand colonial buildings, leafy avenues: a completely different face of the same city. A quiet moment at India Gate, watching families stroll and children play, made it clear that this journey was going to be about more than ticking off famous landmarks. It was about slipping, even briefly, into the everyday rhythm of Indian life.

Shimla: the surprise of the Himalayas

From the heat and clamour of the plains, the journey up to Shimla felt like entering a different world altogether.

As the road climbed into the foothills of the Himalayas, the air cooled, the scent of pine trees drifted in through the window, and far‑off ridgelines unfolded into view. Shimla has a gentle, old‑world charm: colonial architecture, sloping streets, and panoramic viewpoints that remind you just how vast and varied India is.

Strolling along the Mall Road and standing at the Ridge with sweeping mountain vistas, I felt a deep sense of calm. This was a side of India many first‑time visitors never see: fresh mountain air, soft clouds snagged on distant peaks, and evenings that invite long conversations over steaming chai.

If Delhi is about history and energy, Shimla is about space and stillness. It is proof that India can offer not just intensity, but also sanctuary.

Jaipur: colour, craft and royal grandeur

Back down from the hills and onward to Rajasthan, Jaipur, the Pink City, felt instantly different again: warm ochre façades, bustling markets, and a gentle desert light that seems to soften everything.

At Amber Fort, an exquisite blend of Rajput and Mughal architecture with courtyards layered one behind another, mirrored halls shimmered with old grandeur, and intricate lattice windows framed slices of the landscape below.

The power and strength of the Fort was a message to the people, and the use of Elephants as a way to arrive emphasised this.  Today some tourists choose to arrive this way, but the majority prefer to arrive by Jeep.

In the city itself, the Hawa Mahal with its honeycomb of tiny windows was a joy to see, but it was the streets that really grabbed me: block‑printed textiles hanging in doorways, jewellers tapping away at delicate settings, and the fragrance of spice shops lining the lanes.  The noise and the buzz of everyday life was intoxicating.

Fatehpur Sikri: an abandoned city of stories

Travelling onward towards Agra, we stopped at Fatehpur Sikri, the former Mughal capital that now stands largely silent, its sandstone pavilions captured in time.

Here, without the pressure of expectation, I could simply wander. Courtyards opened into graceful halls, each with a story of emperors, poets, and philosophers. Delicate carvings caught the afternoon light, and there was space to pause, to listen to the echoes of the past without crowds pressing forward.

In a way, Fatehpur Sikri became the quiet counterpoint to Agra. Where the Taj Mahal is intense and emotional, this abandoned city is reflective and spacious. It reminded me that India is full of “secondary” sites that are anything but secondary in experience. So many travellers rush past, focused only on the famous monument up the road, but some of the most powerful memories come from these in‑between places.

Agra: finding meaning beyond the perfect picture

Agra, of course, was always going to be about the Taj Mahal. That was the dream.

We set off early, hoping for that iconic sunrise view. Instead, the world was wrapped in fog.

The outlines of the Taj only gradually revealed themselves: first a ghostly silhouette, then hints of marble and inlay work, but never the crisp, clear profile I had carried in my imagination for decades.

For a while, I felt genuinely heartbroken. I had waited so long, travelled so far, and the one thing I had come to see was hiding from me.

Yet, as the disappointment softened, something surprising happened. I started to notice the details I might have rushed past in pursuit of the “perfect” shot: the delicate stonework along the plinth, the quiet symmetry of the gardens, the sense of devotion in the stories shared by our guide. The Taj became less a postcard and more a presence, a place with emotion and atmosphere rather than just an image.

Because of the fog our Cox & Kings guide and the India team of this great company changed our itinerary and took us to  Agra Fort. Often overshadowed, the fort was a revelation: huge red sandstone walls, intricate courtyards, and distant, misty views across the Yamuna. Here, the Mughal emperors lived, ruled, and dreamed. Standing on one of the balconies, I felt the sweep of history more strongly than anywhere else.

That foggy morning taught me something essential: iconic sights are just one chapter. The heart of a journey lies in how a place makes you feel, even when things do not go to plan.

Later in the day we returned to the Taj Mahal and fortunately the fog had cleared - allowing me to take in and absorb the beauty of the building and the emotional story it tells us of love.

Learning to let go of the “perfect trip”

Looking back, that initial disappointment at the Taj Mahal was a turning point.

I had carried a very specific image in my mind: clear skies, soft sunrise light, the classic reflection in the water. Instead, the weather had other ideas. Yet without that fog, I might have spent my energy chasing the picture instead of savouring the place.

India had taught me to let go of the idea of a “perfect trip” and embrace the journey as it unfolds: the imperfect moments, the surprises, the unexpected highlights. Fog at the Taj led me to notice whispered details, appreciate other monuments more fully, and open my eyes to the wealth of experiences beyond that single view.

Delhi’s vibrant streets, Shimla’s mountain air, Jaipur’s artisan workshops and royal forts, the echoing courtyards of Fatehpur Sikri, Agra’s palaces and gardens: together, they formed a tapestry that was far richer than any one monument could ever be.

My journey was with Cox & Kings and they impressed me with their constant ability to change the itinerary to make it work.  If you are thinking of going to India please do chat with me and allow me to put together the perfect trip.