Battle of the Bulls

So the Taj Mahal was impressive, very beautiful. I don't really know what to say, it's a lovely, lovely building... just, nice. Thought I'd be blown away, maybe cry a solitary tear of joy at its sheer perfection, but am afraid it was... nice. We did see some Taj Mahal chipmunks tho, that was cooel. But then we went and had tea and something happened which made me the Second Most Scared I've ever been in my entire life. We had tea on a roof to see the sun set over the Taj Mahal, which was beautiful too (apart from the public toilet just across the street, which we could see in to, with shit smeared all over the floor). Anyway, after tea we went to a bar on a roof, where we purchased beer that had to be drunk out of shot glasses and the bottle surreptitiously hidden under the table, incase the beer police came. Incidentally, we all agreed that furtively drinking when youre not s'posed to be actually improves not only the taste but the potency of the beer. Which may or may not have added to my hysteria when the bull came.

So we're drinking away, and the power keeps cutting out leaving us in near darkness. The power cuts for the third time, and out of the darkness we hear a bellowing, I don't think I'd be exaggerating to call it 'monstrously devilish'. Looking down into the street, just below our bar, is a behemoth of a black bull, having full on horn to horn combat with a smaller, not so shit-your-pants scary but seriously feisty and ballsy brown bull. They were charging at eachother, locking horns, and then and barging up and down the street - the street we had to walk down imminently - crashing into buildings, shaking the structure of them, and making horrific angry bull noises.

Now I always take my lead from the locals, no one seems bothered, and I think this must be a regular occurence. Until the climax of the fight, where they nearly destroy a telephone pole, a tuk tuk drives off, men run away, and a shop keeper pulls down his shutters and runs upstairs. Feck. I resolve to beg the bar man to let me sleep on the bar floor, and state that under no circumstances what so ever, will I walk into that street until absolutely certain the black beast has gone. So they go at it for a bit more, and then two men come with big sticks and start hitting them and shouting at them. I don't know how this is supposed to alleviate the situation, and I thought cows and bulls were sacred, and I don't think you're supposed to hit sacred things with big sticks are you? It's quite rude. Anyway in the end the brown one gives up and bows and scrapes and limps away, leaving the big black mother trucker still bellowing masculinely away, really pleased with himself. Walking home after this, in the absolute pitch dark, (no street lamps) him still bellowing triumphantly in the distance, was unnerving to say the least, lots of glancing over the shoulder and mentally allocating a tree suitable to climb up incase he comes charging down the street at us. Then Adam trod in bull shit and got it all over his feet. Brilliant.