Esfahan
The flight to Tehran was crowded and uncomfortable. The last twenty minutes were a bit eerie as they totally extinguish all the cabin lights for most of the descent. Much to our surprise we sailed through immigration and customs. Our guide was waiting for us with a bunch of flowers. It took the best part of an hour to get out of the airport as they were sorting out sim cards for our phones and we also changed money. 7 US$ buys you a million Iranian Reals. Inflation is rising towards 40% as a result of sanctions. Luckily we were at an airport hotel so it didn't take too long to get there. We fell into bed exhausted after 1 am. 8-30 am start this morning which meant getting up at 7 am. so not as much sleep as we'd like. Our guide and driver collected us. The former is an engineering and Art History graduate and the latter served in the Iranian Air Force but now works in an office.
Our first stop was Kashan on the route from Tehran to Isfahan. We went, first of all, to the bazaar. Tiny carpet shops with three or for pieces of merchandise lined the cool brick vaulted alleyways. A group of women sat around an ornamental pool and played with their children. Craggy merchants sat outside their shops and showed little interest in us. I doubt it looked that different in the 18th century. From there to a bath house. We sat in the octagonal changing room beside a small ornamental pool while our guide explained what it would have been like when it was functioning. The architecture was simply beautiful. Then on to a rich carpet merchant's house built in the mid 19th century. A place where words are inadequate to describe the pleasure you get from seeing such harmonious and beautifully decorated architecture.
Finally to Abanayeh, a small village in the mountains dating back thousands of years. The inhabitants still wear traditional dress and most of the ones we saw were mostly octogenerians. Isfahan is a very large city and it was a relief to get to our hotel after 11 hours on the road. I'd seen the room we are in on the internet months ago and knew I had to sleep in it. The hotel is housed in the Monshi's former palace. He was the Shah's representative and would visit the provinces to hear petitions and do the Shah's administration. The room we are in was restored over a three year period and, for once, merits that overused word, 'unique'. Because it's Ramadan we could not get any food in the hotel's restaurant but they kindly sent out for some rice and soup. Neither Gill nor I have recovered our appetites and can only eat tiny amounts which is not ideal given that we are expending quite a bit of energy. It's also frustrating not to be able to sample so many different foods. The receptionist was most concerned about our health and brought us Sherbet. This is a drink made from a syrup composed with honey and vinegar and cucumber and lemon. She decided we needed additional medicine and brought us some liquid mint to add to our sherbet to 'settle' our stomachs.
We meet our guide, our guide Nasreem who took us off to the museum of musical instruments. At first sight this didn't look like it was going to be the most fascinating of museums but we were captivated by the sheer variety of Iranian instruments. The surprise, however, was that there was a concert after our visit. The auditorium held just us and one other visitor. There were six musicians and they outnumbered us. The concert was moving in a strange way. The music they played was poignant and plaintive. There was a solo singer who sang beautifully and it was impossible not to enter into the emotion of the song, even without understanding the lyrics.
Nazreem took us for a wonderful lunch. I ordered chicken kebabs and a plate with enough food for four people arrives. Nazreem comments with understatement that Iranians like generous portions. She insists that I treat her as my daughter. This means she won't allow me to carry anything including my camera bag. She is very concerned that our water bottles are not ice cold and rushes off to get us fresh cold bottles. She helps Gill up and down steps and is constantly worried that we will be tired. She had been told about our illness. After the music museum, she has a yellow cab waiting for us. To our surprise, the driver is Zaccariah. He has prepared a plate of fruit in case we need to refresh ourselves. Not only that but plates and fruit knives are at the ready. Not your usual cab ride. From there we go to the main square in Isfahan. It's the second biggest public square in the world after Tiananmen Square in Beijing. It's scale is massive but unlike in Beijing there is no traffic only people drinking tea under shading trees. The main mosque is stupendous in scale and breath taking in beauty with millions of blue and yellow tiles. The central dome is truly awe inspiring. Mr Zandi has just texted us to alert us that he wants to take us 'somewhere beautiful'. Iran, so far, has been beautiful beyond anything we could have imagined. What is in store we wonder?
Mr Zandi has one last surprise for the evening. He rushed us through the bazaar in the direction of the main square. Half way there his eye was caught by his favourite food shop which sells a sort of semolina pudding with date syrup. He was very keen for us to try it and it was delicious. We arrived in the main square and then he took us to a roof top cafe that overlooked the entire half kilometre length of the square. We sat and drank tea and ate cake as we watched fathers flying kites with their sons and famies picknicking on the grass by the fountains. The setting sun turned the domes of the mosques and palaces pink and the mountains behind were a deep powder blue. The sounds of conversation and laughter drifted up to us on the roof. A perfect end to the day.
