Eram Shiraz

... into the famous Shiraz red wine. Our main reason for coming to Shiraz however wasn't actually Shiraz at all, but the Achaemenid ruins at Persepolis, 42km to the north-east of the city.<br><br>Persepolis was founded in 518 BC by Cyrus the Great's grandson, Darius I. Cyrus had already built an impressive capital 50km further up the road at Pasargadae, but upon taking the throne Darius obviously felt the need to carve out his own niche in the world of palace building, so ...

... before it began and is in Shiraz. No, they don't make wine there, apparently the Australians stole the name and gave it to their wine or something like that. He seems to be enjoying himself a lot, despite missing ham sandwiches (they don't exist in muslim countries.) When he was in Esfahan, he got very involved in the run up to the elections, attending rallies for both Achmedinijad and Mousavi. He said it was very exciting, all the election craziness. Also when he was in ...

... at one time. It&#8217;s not hard to see why smoking hookah is a national pastime amongst the men. <br> <br><br>Our Shiraz accommodation was at the Kowsar Hotel, which was no more than OK, but at least all the cockroaches were either dead or dying and seemed to be content to remain solely in the bathroom. Back in twin single beds again.<br><br>Shiraz is the fast food capital of Iran, so it was western styled pizza and hotdogs for dinner ...

... illuminée par quelques merveilles. Une visite assez inédite, du coup, réalisant bientôt qu'il ne servait à rien de chercher un semblant d ...

... but there was no mystical experience to be had just because they were mosques and somewhat ornate in places. Some revelled in the peace in the buildings. Of course they were peaceful. There was ************e around. Just sit in any great cathedral and you'll find the same calm, peace and solitude....if you want to that is. Anyhows, climbing down off my soapbox for a mo. The second reason was that I was still minding my Rial, and ...

... When I woke, I could see who the people around me were: Thomas, from Hungary, Cecile, from France, and Therese, from Austria, but whom was studying in Munich with Cecile. They were traveling together, but Thomas, like me, was traveling alone. We sat on the floor for a while and talked about what we've done so far and the thigs we've seen, while we took turns showering. It was the first time I was able to bounce my experiences off of foreigners, and it felt so good. Just to ...

... fortress tower, the city seems to be sinking into an oblivious stupor in slow motion. Situated right next to the bazaar, the Masjed e Vakil (Regent's Mosque) remains a beautiful relic from the past, its vaulted ceilings and multiple columns looking over a dark and empty interior, the paving stones of the floor swept clean, silent and reverent. At one end of the bazaar stood an intricately decorated caravanserai with a beautiful courtyard. Charming souvenir shops and ...

... as important as the watermelons. On display are carrots, melons, apples, berries, citrus fruits, which you pick out to be blended on the spot with yoghurt and ice, much like a smoothie. I had already learned the Farsi words for carrots, melons, large, small, so the juice-purchasing transaction was routine. The only drawback is that they tend to be way too sweet. Rather than a sweet tooth, the Iranians have a sweet tongue, mouth, esophagus, extending to their entire ...

... in Iran. They asked me to take of a photo of them and I happily complied. Before I snapped the picture, they quickly ripped off their Velcro name tags to remain anonymous. The bus passed through a dry and monotonous landscape of rocky hills and brown plateaus, punctuated by a few rivers and pasture land. There are a fair number of nomadic peoples who pitched their tents by the river while their livestock grazed on the green pastures of the valley. Iran still has a significant ...