AGRA AND LUCKNOW, India — She gingerly climbed the steps towards the Taj Mahal as younger, nimble-footed tourists skipped past her. And with every few steps, a pause. She lifted her face, as if to see how long more it would take to reach the top.

Trailing her like a stalker, I was transfixed by her siren-red saree and socks adorned with golden sequins and tiny bells — even in her advanced age, she was beautifully dressed to see one of the world’s greatest monuments. When we finally reached the grounds of the Taj, she grabbed her companion’s arm and started gesticulating wildly with her free hand. Her unbridled excitement was sheer joy to see.

I put my iPhone down, suddenly conscious of the fact that I tried to steal a shot of an old lady’s pure, unfiltered reaction. Some things are better experienced.

Half an hour ago, I had thought that my first glimpse of the structure was as good as it got — emerging from the shadows of the entrance, it was bathed in soft golden light and veiled in morning mist. But seeing it up-close was another thing altogether: Its majesty lies beyond its famed symmetry — it’s in the details, from the gleaming translucent marble tiles inlaid with precious and semi-precious stones to the intricate carvings of Quranic verses in Arabic script.

My travelling companions and I sat at one of the corners of the Taj in awe, before one of us piped up. “So, it was worth the seven-hour coach ride from Lucknow, huh.”

ON THE ROAD

Travellers swear it is worth making a trip to India just to see the Taj. And it’s now a more accessible — and affordable — journey with TigerAir, which recently launched a five-hour direct flight from Singapore to the Indian city of Lucknow.

From there, it’s a seven-hour coach ride to Agra, where the Taj stands. Alternatively, you can catch a train, which would take almost six hours.

The road to Agra seemed to be filled with mind-numbingly endless expressways. But it would be a shame to sleep through the ride. Even on the highways, the landscape comes alive every now and then with cliches that make India so colourful. Yes, you’ve got cows roaming around, trucks are painted with messages such as “Honk please”, and shop houses are splashed with turquoise and rose pinks, enlivening the dusty grey scene before us. A random pit stop is strangely decked out with fairy lights and makeshift beds to settle on. Even the sunset looks extra poignant against the backdrop of desolate roads.

The people here shrug off the monotony of life by the highways. During one of our breaks, we stopped at a shop crammed with potato chips of every sort. While stretching our legs, a mini-van puttered up. The driver and his companion opened up the door, revealing a mountain of fleshy bottle gourds. When they saw our curious eyes light up, one of them gamely climbed atop his van and fished out his longest, strangest-looking gourd and waved it around, posing like a champion snake charmer as cameras went off around him.

If you’re with a guide, do let him or her know you’d like to stop at a traditional Indian sweets store. En route back to Lucknow from our Taj expedition at Agra, ours took us to a store called Panchhi to let us try some paan petha, which the latter city is known for. And in true Singaporean foodie fashion, what was supposed to be a quick 10-minute break turned out to be a half-hour frenzy to try almost everything. The paan petha made from winter melon (“petha” means white pumpkin or winter melon) burst with the pulpy refreshing flavours of mint, rosewater and bits of nuts (usually pistachio). The savoury snackers in the group — including yours truly — couldn’t stop stuffing our faces with spicy crispy namkeen, which is similar to muruku. It was so moreish that I made off with a pack, as well as sesame seed brittle thins known as gajak.

Stopping for a meal is a highlight during roadtrips. We had a soul-satisfying late dinner at an unassuming shack of a restaurant, where we filled up on paratha (or prata in Singapore), stuffed with mashed potato or cottage cheese, best accompanied with fiery masala chicken curries. It made the rest of the passage back to Lucknow easier to bear.

TIME IN LUCKNOW

Why don’t more people know about Lucknow? It was a question I wondered entering the city’s jaw-dropping Bara Imanbara. The sprawling complex consists of several buildings — the Imambara itself (tomb of a holy man), the Asafi mosque and the Shahi Baoli, which was initially constructed to serve as a reservoir but is now little more than a photo backdrop.

I was told by our guide that there are still people who live within the grounds of the Imambara. We caught glimpses of women hanging their laundry in the minarets as children bounced around the steps and windows, their sure, carefree ways indicating this was their playground. It was amazing that the humdrum of everyday life went on in this 232-year-old building, which was built in 1784 to generate employment during a time of famine. Within the Imambara’s chambers is a labyrinth that should absolutely be explored with a guide who’ll take you around a network of 1,000 passages and 498 doorways. Pay attention, too, as you walk along the chamber’s interior balcony — there are no beams or pillars supporting this architectural feat.

After passing through a series of tunnels and staircases, I had no idea how we suddenly got to the rooftop. But it didn’t matter. Not when there was a splendid view of the entire compound and we could run amok taking snap after snap of this endlessly fascinating area.

Up next was the smaller Chota Imambara. But the space, which still functions as an assembly hall for religious events, was closed to the public as there was a meeting being held. So close yet so far, I thought to myself as I craned my neck to have a better look at its beautifully intricate facade. On our way out, I was somewhat comforted by the sight of the 18-metre Rumi Gate, which is also known as the Turkish Gateway as its design is similar to the gateways of ancient Constantinople.

If only we had more time. Lucknow has so much to offer and we hardly scratched the surface. There is still The Residency, the ruins of the former home of the British Resident that became a battleground during an uprising against the East India Company in 1857. The La Martiniere College and Charbagh Railway Station are two other beautiful examples of the rich history and architecture of the city.

Perhaps sensing our slight disappointment, our guide took us to Husainabad Clock Tower. Designed to resemble the Big Ben in London, it went cuckoo in 1984 and took another 27 years before it was finally repaired. The tower loomed large, watching over a motley crew of boys playing— what else? — cricket, a scene that has probably taken place since it was first erected in 1881.

The dial showed it was 10 minutes to 1pm and soon it would be time to depart for the airport. It seemed apt to bid the city goodbye at this very spot — surely, there would be another time for Lucknow, time to know it a little better.

The trip was made possible by TigerAir, which flies directly from Singapore to Lucknow. It’s offering a one-way, all-inclusive promo fare of S$149. Book between Feb 1 and 14 for travel from Feb 23 to April 28.