I was on my way to Sri Lanka - this marked the halfway point of my trip, and the first non-surface travelling. The plane was only half full, and it was only a short trip, less than four hours. This did nothing to help the fact that the flight was from 11pm to 4.45am (Sri Lankan time) so sleep was a trifle lacking that night. But what did I care, who did not have to work that day (/week/month/year)? On board I gratefully accepted a gin and tonic - my first drink since the homemade 'syrup' in Tehran. The steward obviously [View Full Entry]

---

---

I woke when the hot sun leapt the balcony and splayed over the floor of my hotel room. I opened the glass door and for a while watched this part of Dubai - Deira, the markety, bustling part - wake up. My priority for the day, as it is most days, was to arrange my next travelling leg. After some quick research on the web I caught an airconditioned bus to find the main Emirates Airlines building, where Sri Lankan Airlines also had an office. My revised plan, since I decided to pass on Pakistan, had been to (regretfully) fly to [View Full Entry]

---

---

My final hours in Iran - that country that I will never forget, for its generous, beautiful people, so misjudged by the majority of the West. I arrived at the ferry port in Bandar Lengeh as instructed at 7am, for my 10am trip to Sharjah - part of the sprawling city in the United Arab Emirates that includes neighbouring Dubai. At 7am there was no sign of any official activity, but there were half a dozen people already waiting, sitting next to their personal cargoes of identically tied-up cardboard boxes and plastic-wrapped dozens of jars of pickled gherkins. I walked to [View Full Entry]

---

---

For a day and a half I was by the Persian Gulf, in the south of Iran. Here there was a marked liberal air, in relation to the rest of Iran, of course. Clothing was more colourful, women's ankles were often to be spotted (for those who were looking) and that obscure fanciful practice known as swimming was undertaken in full public view. I arrived in Bandar Abbas at 8.30am, and already it was very hot - such a contrast to cooling early autumnal Esfahan. The first sight to shake me from my night-bus hangover was the startling face-coverings worn by [View Full Entry]

---

---

I left Shiraz at 6.30am, sharing a taxi with a Liverpudlian photographer I had first met on the train from Istanbul to Tehran. Craig was off to sleep in the desert somewhere, but I was headed back to Esfahan. I had decided to avoid travelling through Pakistan - when the local Minister of Education was shot by a passing motorcycle assasin in Quetta I thought I needed to change my plans - and so I no longer needed to head any further east in Iran. This meant I could spend more time in my favourite city of my trip so far. [View Full Entry]

---

---

Sunday I had an early start to Shiraz for the seven hour bus trip from Esfahan. Empty dry lanscape to gaze at through the dusty windows. We pass a small truck, almost overflowing with its cargo of juicy-looking sib. Another truck with a load of sheep, and two men only just clinging to the back. A third truck with the disheartening word 'Tesco' emblazed on its flank. A huge sign proclaiming 'Persian Gulf's Premier Entertainment Venue', next to a deserted carpark and several piles of broken bricks. The bus was an old and faded luxury model, with engine problems that required [View Full Entry]

---

---

Friday is the new Monday, at least in the Islamic world. Most shops and museums are closed, and the weather is a bit dull (but that may be a coincidence). I spent the day leisurely wandering Esfahan, south from the hostel to see the famous river, and the romantic bridges. I was a little surprised at seeing the river, or should I say not seeing it. Even though I had been warned that the river was dry the wide expanse of cracked dried mud was a strange sight. Every fifty metres or so someone was making a slow trek across the [View Full Entry]

---

---

Day 25. I woke up in Esfahan (or sometimes transliterated as Isfahan) in Iran. My day was going to be spent on a self-guided walking tour, courtesy of Lonely Planet, culminating with my entrance into Imam Square - the second largest square in the world, and apparently one of the most beautiful. Usual breakfast of boiled egg, bread and cheese, and a cursory glace at the many fooball-themed clothes shops near the hostel - none of which sold the 'Iran' shirt I hoped to buy for my nephews: sign of an ambivelent nationalism? The first part of the tour was through [View Full Entry]

---

---

The highlight of my Monday morning in Tehran was a visit to the local English class. A handful of students were very excited to meet a native English speaker, and I was more than willing to help them practise their skills. After this Corrine and I met some more of Reza's freinds - local tailors, operating from a small shop down a side street. A minah bird bobbed around in a cage suspended from the ceiling. I travelled back to the centre of Tehran - Essie (Ismail) from the train gave me a lift and offered a bed for the night [View Full Entry]

---

---

I finally arrived in Tehran at 2am on Sunday, after I and most people on the train thought it would 5 or 7pm the evening before. On saying goodbye there was much kissing between the men - three kisses each time - swapping of email addresses and offers of lifts to hotels. I accepted a lift and headed to a cheap hotel listed in the Lonely Planet guidebook. When I arrived I saw four others from the train who had obviously been following the same book. All the hotels in that area recommended were locked up for the night; Tehran has [View Full Entry]

---

---