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Published: October 28th 2009
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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 at his more-central address. Near there I had a frustrating session in the cafenet (internet cafe) which was dial-up slow, and of course Facebook is banned in Iran (not sure I will cope without Facebook...). From there I caught the metro to the main bazar. A young woman who was also using the internet showed me the way to the station - which included travelling on the short bus ride with me, and paying my fare. Very generous, these Iranians! The tube train was airconditioned, very efficient and clean - quite crowded, but not nearly as busy as I
heard it is during rush hour. It is heavily subsidized, to the extent that a yearly all-zone season ticket costs about $30 - the equivalent of a few days' travel in London.
Outside the bazar I paused for a few moments before plunging into the busy lanes and alleys. A Tehrani man, about 30, spoke to me in English, and mentioned that his brother has a carpet shop in the bazar. Would I like to hear about the history of carpets and see some good examples? I had read that carpets and rugs are cheapest in Tehran, and planned to buy a small one to ship back to the UK as a wedding present for my friends Alexander and Alexandra who were married in London earlier in the year. Majid gave me a quick tour of the bazar and a thorough lesson in Persian carpet history, different styles, methods of construction and so on. In the end, after negotiating a lower price (even though his prices seemed to be fairly realistic) I bought two rugs - shipped one to London, and now carry the other around in my backpack, which is now bursting at the seams.
Back to
Essie's for the night in his one bedroomed flat. His wife, his two sons, and his sister slept in the bedroom and Essie and I in the living room, after a meal of skewered meat, rice, bread and piles of basil leaves. This was washed down with homemade syrup - illegal alcohol, which tasted rank but was obviously a source of pride in that household. The whole evening was spent conversing via a handful of translated phrases in my guidebook and Essie's mamoth English-Farsi dictionary.
Tuesday 20 October Next day I caught a taxi to the bus terminal, and was helped by a young porter with carrying my pack and finding the ticket office then the bus. It was a fairly rudimentary service, and he was obviously insulted by the tip I gave him. The bus was about five hours (I think - writing this a week later the bus trips are starting to merge into one long journey), and travelled through deserty mountains. On the bus I met three Spanish men, work mates travelling around Iran together. The bus conductor, with a big smile on his face, had sat us together near the rear of the bus.
A 24 year old Kashani, named Hamid, offered to show us to the hotel we had all chosen from the guide book. We shared a pizza afterwards, and Hamid promised to meet me at 10am the next morning for a tour of the town.
Wednesday 21 October No Hamid by 10.30am, so I set off to explore the local streets and bazar. I found Kashan very palatable after busy Tehran, but not very touristy. The bazar - ancient winding alleys under a series of traditional domed ceilings - was full of wool, clothes dummies, t-shirts with random English slogans, pictures of the past and present Ayatollah and the current president. I didn't hang around much in Kashan, and caught the six hour (?) bus to Esfahan. On the way, travelling along a wide, flat freeway, we passed a few hardy cyclists and all manner of lumbering farm machinery all nudging each other closer to the edge of the road. When I arrived at the Amir Kabir hostel I met not only the Spanish guys from Kashan, but three people from the train from Istanbul as well. It's a mixed blessing to follow a guide book when travelling -
meeting up with others also following the same book. The hostel seemed very laid back and friendly, based around a courtyard with tables and chairs where all the budget travellers in Iran seemed to stay. The room had marble halfway up the walls, but was otherwise fairly grotty (I later heard the Spanish guys were all bitten on their legs by something small during the night, but I was spared). That night I ate at a quiet restaurant, which had a very amusing menu - I had the hen shernitsel - and produced the bill in persian. Forutnately I had been practising my numerals.
The next day I discovered why Esfahan is so famous, and described as 'Half the world'.
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Maggie
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just catching up ...
Hi Nick - just back from a few days away, and dodgy (but less so than some!) internet connections. Hugely enjoyed catching up with your blog - impressed you are able to keep it going. Your description of the bath house reminded me to some extent of some of our less confident doings in the far east....