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Published: June 28th 2007
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Ilkhanid Ruler's mausoleum
Facing his wife's mausoleum, eternal love for centuries... Tough hiking proved to be impossible for me during my trip in Iran, not only for my untoned blubby form (next stop, Jabba the Hut!) or my smoker's black lungs, but the sad fact that my only pair of walking shoes had been destroyed when (one of) my bottles of scotch erupted in my suitcase and drenched my shoes in beautiful liquor as soon as I got to Iran. I personally wouldnt have minded giving off a scent of Johnny instead of some annoying fruity perfume reserved for baby prostitutes, but I knew that cops would give me trouble while my fake crying wouldnt help.
This was a sign from some deity. At college, even when people didn't know my name, I was known as 'the asian with the random australian accent and crazy shoes'. To this day, even when one does not my name, fellow students know me as part of the courtyard - 'blue skies, Lincoln Center, blooming flowers, asian with heels and cigarette.' I was tempted to make my sneaker debut, but alas they were destroyed before I wore them. Halleluijah!
So I cheated, oh so nicely. Ho ho ho. Most guidebooks on Iran claim
Alamut Tower
The castle of the Assassins, a tough location to get to that to get to Alamut Tower, or rather, the 'Towers of the Assassins' near Qazvin it would take up a good day or so of rigorous hiking in a mountainous area so sparse of asphalt roads. For the unfit, lazyass girl who quickly becomes a human tomato in the heat, that advice was not acceptable as an option. Hell no.
I hopped onto an unmarked cab, alongside some tourists. We totalled to a herd of 8 cabs. I chose my driver just for my fascination that he looked like President Ahmadinejad. Really, give him a microphone and he would be CNN quality claiming the Holocaust as a myth (actually, i've been doing much reading to find that he does have some surprisingly curious backup sources). Near the Sefid dam, all vehicles broke out into 'Fast and Furious' mode. For the first time in my life, I was petrified of the speed they were travelling at. Imagine Disneyland Teacup ride with insane child: speedingly twirling to the point that you can feel the flab of your chin stretching out due to the pressure. I did not dare see how fast we were going, as the car was a Peugeot mini
Ilkhanid Ruler's tomb
Facing his wife's mausoleum, eternal love for centuries... sedan from pre-revolution 1970s.
Local drivers seem to have some kind of hierarchal order. My driver, despite his speeding, let older cab drivers pass him and we were always last. LAST? not acceptable, seeing dorky tourists fly by in their cabs waving at me. not funny. Especially for a woman who speeds all the time and when caught by local cops, claims she's rushing to hospital cos she's pregnant (whoops, sorry). Anyhow, even asking the driver to catch up with the others, he furiously shook his head and refused.
Asphalt slowly became dirt road, then mere shrub. Finally, cars just got stuck in the bumpy ground. Drivers came together to figure out their new route. A kid with a goat appeared. He told us about an unkown path leading to the Tower of the Assassins. The cabs followed his advice, also following an entourage of curious youngens on motorcycles who knew the way.
An hour and a tad later, we got to an amazing cliffside. A large lake in front of us, high mountains and ruins of towers and castles around us. It was magnificent. The lake was a glissening turqoise blue surrounding steep cliffs red in
Alamut Castle
Castle, mausoleums, and other complexes facing the lake colour. Here, Hassan-e-Sabbah, the famous leader of the Nazari Ismaili Assassins, planned his attacks on Seljuk leaders. According to historical sources, he drugged young men with hashish, wake them up three days later in his famous gardens, luscious in green and highlighted by hot dancing women. 'This, my son', he would say, 'is heaven. succeed in your mission, and you shall be granted entrance here for all eternity'. These high young men obviously went for it. This way, the assassins were a feared organization for centuries until the Mongol invasion, when Huagulu destroyed the secret headquarters of the Assassins (the name coming from Hashish-smoker).
Ismailis today are estimated between 5 and 20 million around the world. They are peaceful peoples now, considering the fact that their leader, Agha Khan IV lives in Paris and his grandson goes to my school in New York. The Nazaris was a short-lived group that made a great impact to history at the time. Incorporating Shiite doctrines, Sufi mysticism, Islamic politics in the 11th century.
This is quite the sight to see, especially the later additions of the Ilkhanid 'mongol' period. There are two towers facing one another from across the lake. Here,
Alamut Castle
Castle, mausoleums, and other complexes facing the lake a famous ruler lies in his mausoleum while his Queen lies in hers from the other side of the water for all time...until the wind shall blow away the last remnants of their brick structures.
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Brad t. Strader
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Slow cab drivers and mis-used scotch.
As I sit here ostensibly doing work, I find myself drawn once again to your adventures in the Persian world but this time I am no longer billing clients. So I have moved to a bar I frequent and am drinking lousy American coffee that is hidden by the taste of caramel but the horrible coffee is winning the contest. I tried the “pregnant” story once but the cop still gave me the ticket. Damn it!! And I tried to start a cult once like Hassan-e-Sabbah, but by the time I mixed the Kool-Aid my loyal subjects attention had been diverted by re-runs of the Cosby show. Damn the next generation and their lack of attention. Horrors what happened to your shoes and to the bottle of scotch. Alcohol abuse. From one traveler to another, I feel cheated by what the deities have done to that sacred liquid. So, as I sit here drinking my laced coffee, I have ordered you a single Highland malt on the rocks a perfect drink for a sunny afternoon in upstate NY. And it arrives I know, sorta weird buying a drink for someone I will never meet and who will not get to enjoy it; but it’s the thought that counts. I stopped drinking about 40+ days ago, but now I spend all my money on my friends. And now I am including a complete stranger in that group. So, keep up with the story so I can keep enjoying. I will keep buying you drinks that, one day, you might get to collect and if your travels ever make it near Saratoga Springs, there will be a tumbler of 15-year-old scotch waiting for you.