Yazd to Esfahan - lest we touch the darkness

Trip Start Oct 30, 2008

Trip End Nov 13, 2008

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Flag of Iran Esfahan, Iran
Saturday, November 8, 2008

Hello there dear reader.
We have been strangers this past while, but fear not I'm back in writing mode and keen to avail you of further reasons to want to visit Persia.

Another early start from our beloved motel site in Yazd. No longer would Greta and I enjoy the company of felines whose affections were clearly not of a long term nature and easily bought with a can of tuna or such other fishy delights.

It was off through the desert again. I've never really travelled through a desert. Going for a bit of a giggle on a desert safari in Dubai in an air conditioned 4x4 didn't quite match up so driving for ages through a flat, blazing hot, almost featureless landscape. Lest this description deter you from heading this way, I can say that the desert has a certain allure. To my left was a range of low level moutains (maybe like Dougal from Father Ted I was misled by distance and perspective and they were actually quite tall close up!), and to my right the desert met the sky on the far distant horizon. How the caravans of old made their way through this murderous country on foot or camelback, travelling hundreds of miles is beyond me.

caravanserai

In time we arrived at our chai-stop. We pulled up at an ancient, and now abandoned caravanserai near the wonderfully named town/village of Now Gonbad. Isn't that just the most fabulous name? I wonder if it ever was once called Really Rather Good?

There were three fortress-like structures each with stables and a large open area. Caravans would haul up here,

caravanserai 2

water and feed their camels, eat and be refreshed, and maybe stay over for an evening before heading on their merry way early next morn. Even though there wasn't an infidel in sight (or for that matter a local friendly Iranian) these abandoned structures were still in use. Yes siree, the eau-de-camel-dung hung in the air adding a dose or reality to the situation. Seriously though it would have been wonderful travel back in time, just for five minutes to see this place in its hey-day. Camels doing what they do (something along the lines of what cows do - don't think they moo, but you get the idea), chomping of dry grass, people swapping stories and travel tips, perhaps even battering and trading, the smell of food cooking and laughter and stories. No? Maybe it's

caravanserai 3

just me that has a vivid imagination.

Na'in

Tea consumed. History imagined. It was off again on our merry travels on the paddy wagon with Mohammed do and se to the desert town of Na'in, Naen or Naeen. All the same place but with three (at least) different spellings. Lunch was in the lovely ITTO Tourist Inn. Great food once again and beautiful and relaxing garden area. From the town's citadel we had a panoramic view of the town, aware of it's isolation in a sea

deserted streets in Na'in

of sand that is the surrounding desert. Not sure why, but the town appears mostly deserted. Maybe the sight of the paddy wagon had put the fear of Allah into its residents.

Na'in town centre

As we headed for said wagon the call of the Imam from the mosque commenced. The call starts in one mosque and then spreads across town. Amazing to hear.

As we neared Isfahan (Esfahan as I like to spell it) Moshen once again announced that we wanted to get to our hotel before we touched the darkness. Wonderful phrase. I wonder if it hails back to the days of travelling caravans and maybe some fear of the darkness. Wonderful imagery - touching the darkness.

We did make it to the Ali Qapu hotel in Esfahan, dismounted and it turned out that due to a near full hotel Rus and I would be sharing a room. I was relaxed about the whole thing. As it turned out Rus and I had a suite. A room each, huge bathroom and a sitting room with tv, frigde, settee etc. Hard to complain about that....

Si-o-Seh Bridge, Esfahan

Quick shower later and it was down to the foyer for a meet up with Mohsen and those of us not part of the Select, for a walk down to the Sie-o-Seh bridge, but not before dicing with death on the roundabout. Wonderful architecture, locals promenading unhurredly, conservatively dressed older women in full black garb, young women in near Western clothing, hajibs barely on their heads, make up

Si-o-Seh Bridge

accentuating their Persian beauty.

The sun was setting as we crossed to the other side of the river. It was so beautiful. It was time then for a walk back across the bridge and to the tea shop under the arches for some chai, sticky sweet substance (no idea what it was, but it packed some sugar I can tell you) and good chat.