In Summation

So the question will inevitably rise in many people - whether Iran is worth going to. "The Book" raves on and on about gracious hospitality, great food, welcoming people, friendly youth, and lots of historic... shit. I guess it comes down to what you're really after. There is indeed much of the above. Here's a brief rundown

 

Hospitality

Yea, it's mostly true. People in Iran are quite hospitable and you do get home invasions invitations at times. I only got a few, the authors seem to run into at least one or two per day. I think it really depends on how you look and where you come from. Being an Asian definitely gets you much different reactions in public than if you are a white man, likewise much less home invitations. There is still some cultural ignorance towards Asians as they seem to think all Asians are Chinese (fair point considering China is 1b + people). So I can't say that I did receive the immensely warm hospitality that is raved on about so much on the forums. People in general are quite friendly and very happy to talk to foreigners. Don't, however, think that you are an automatic celebrity, it's more like you are a strange sight. Hospitality also varies depending on which cities you are in.

 

There is no shortage of people who want to rip you off, especially taxi drivers. This is the case in every country, but the internet opinions of Iran rarely mention this sad but real aspect. There are also a few scammers who will offer their friendly time to just show you around but then demand money at the end. I turned down most offers.

 

 

History, Sites, Attractions

The history and historical sites in Iran are rich. There are more mosques than I can count (although I can only count to 21) and as beautiful as they are, they get quite boring after the third or so. They all start to look the same and if you're not religious, muslim, or have a strong interest in mosques, then only architectural points of marvel remain which are few anyway. I do remember in Yazd I did a little walking tour around the mud-brick houses as the sun was setting, that was quite beautiful.

 

 

 

Then of course there is beautiful Shiraz and the nearby Persepolis, Esfahan and its Najahaheahahajan Rectangle and nearby bridges, abundance of bazaars and markets, enough museums for a lifetime, lots of parks and botanic gardens (which are pretty crap botanically), cool cars, amazingly beautiful women, and other miscellaneous commodities. There are no shortage of nearby mountains which Iranians like to picnic at on Thursday and Friday. Here's one of them. The sound of wind generators is very soothing. Some quacks think they cause cancer. Kids, this is one of those fans which you don't put your finger in (or any body part). Overall, there are no major sites that are absolutely 'must go to Iran for'. Sorry Iran.

 

 

 

 

Great Food

Hmm, had a lot of kebabs, plus some traditional Iranian dishes, and fast food. Overall, very very far from anything that resembles fantastic food. Even at traditional restaurants that were known and raved about, the food was average to good, never fantastic. Am I being a food snob? Nah, I'm happy to eat this stuff day in day out, don't care. But there's definitely no passion in the cooking that I came across. Every time I ate a hot dish, it came out on a cold plate, making the food completely warm and unappetising - even in the higher end restaurants where you pay 2-3 times the average price. Maybe I'm bias, but Vietnamese food rocks ass (sometimes literally). My culinary highlights would have to be drinking tea, eating baclava, and smoking shisha. That's just so relaxing (but remember to come up for air occasionally).

 

 

In Summation

I'm not sure if I'd ever come back to Iran unless it was to see how the people have progressed. For me, Iran was totally an anthropological expedition. I don't think I could really recommend Iran to others who are likeminded to me. In Tehran, one of the biggest tourist attractions and one which has a constant stream of Western tourists is the Jewel museum, which is filled with... lots of rocks that are (very) expensive and not the type that you skip across ponds. It was beautiful and stunning yes, amazing, but it's more a depressing site to see if you think about its origins in exploitation and slavery. Outside of the postcard attractions, for the majority of tourists, there isn't actually much to do or see. And for that reason I don't think it's worth the effort of getting a visa and flying over.

 

Now I can say that I've done it yes, and I don't regret it at all, but there are perhaps better 'experiences' for the money. Admittedly it's hard to put a monetary value on my experiences there, but I'm not a rich male escort so I have to draw the line somewhere. So my final overall rating of Iran would be 113/151, which equates to about 74.8%. Not bad, but could improve.

 

 

 

Tabriz

It's been a while since I've updated and this is back-dated. When I was in Tabriz, my penultimate stop, I met up with a couch surfer named Shadi. She invited me to go to an orphanage and go with the kids out on a day trip to a park. This isn't a normal orphanage, the kids here mostly have some developmental problem; I was told most are autistic. It was quite a sad site to see. The main sleeping room had about 25 small steel-framed beds, five of which had some kids in the beds. These kids were not walking around either because they were physically unable to walk or blind. The rest of the room was filled with about 20 kids who were all excited by the prospect of going to the park - it seems they really enjoy the escape. It was a bit saddening to see them all clearly excited, yet their expressions weren't that of normal kids. Somehow the human body's language of excitement can cross cultural, physical, and verbal barriers through moans, gestures, and screams.

 

One of kids had a problem where he would just randomly slap (hard) this one girl stuck in her bed. She would just hold her face and cry. In the chaos of the children's screams, nobody heard her cry or saw her get hit. She just kept crying, it seemed like she had cried so many times that day already but the pain was still a torment. I rubbed her back but it didn't help. The bully kid walked around to others and half strangled another girl who just stood in submission, then he yanked another boy's collar from behind causing him to fall, and punched a few others. I didn't know what to do, how to manage him or his victims. What do you do? What would a shrink do? I don't know.

 

After a bit, 'the uncle' arrived, a man in his early 50s with warming smile, streaks of gray hair which didn't seem to age him, and handsome deep wrinkles. The Uncle was a very popular man, and the site of him coming through the doors made all the kids charge at him and cling on him like little monkeys. He was very good at handling them even though they surrounded him completely. At one point he knelt down to the girl who was slapped, and put his forehead against hers and spoke softly to her. I don't know if she understood or not, but it seemed to calm her completely and they locked eyes and somehow communicated through his fatherly affection.

 

Soon we had to get all the kids into three buses, which included much carrying of the immobile kids who were quite heavy. My travel and malnourishment meant I could no longer bench 380kg. I didn't get to take many photos as I didn't want to be insensitive, but I did get the green light to take the few that I have.

 

 

 

Kid on the left was extremely skinny. When you carry him he hugs your neck and holds on.

 

 

Kid on left here cries and punches his head when he stresses out. He stressed out when he thought we weren't going to the park, and then again when he wanted to go on the swing but others were already there. As soon as he got a spot on there he just went quiet. I pushed him for a good 30 minutes and he didn't get bored like most little brats do. The kid on the right is just mellow and sits and looks at you. He's happy doing whatever, even after he's lost a sandle.

 

She's adorable this girl. She's so happy and hyper, always laughing and running around. There's something wrong with her legs or something as she falls over randomly (but gets up straight away while laughing). Her laughter was warming. I found her stealing grapes off the vines, and generally eating anything she could get a hold of, including the draping leaves of the willow tree above the swing. It was just sight to see in itself - her plucking away at the grapes and eating them, seeds and all. It was like she had discovered a treasure trove.

 

 

 

The grapevine she ate from. It clings to a stairway which winds up to the most amazing house. Actually my mistake, it wasn't a park we went to, it was someone's farm. Behind the house there was the most grand pool I've ever seen in a house. A nice 20m wading pool for the kids, complete with ornamental stuff and arch entrances. Down the stairs there was another deeper and bigger pool for big people. Ok my descriptive writing sucks, whatever I'm not getting paid for this. There were also a few good acres of productive farmland, with trees bearing apricot, apples, plums, peaches, nectarines, all ripe and ready to eat (which I may have eaten...)

 

 

This is Shadi, the fellow CouchSurfer and also a volunteer at the orphanage. I like this picture.

 

 

She may not like this picture, but I think the kid on the right was secretly posing. Kudos to her and all the volunteers here, it takes a real thick but warm skin to be able to work with these kids. It's very hard on the mind.

 

 

 

One of the saddest things of all was that amongst the autistic kids there were some who were completely normal. They were mixed in and had to live amongst the chaos. They would never get to live a normal life even though they have such a great chance to grow up like the fortunate rest of us. Even though this kid is part of the orphanage, somehow it hadn't gotten to him and he was still as intelligent as any other kid his age, if not more. I hope some day soon he can find a life outside this place.

 

 

A title

 

Been quite lazy to update. Net is shit and... I'm lazy. I saw these cute bikes in Sandaj, Italian motor but apparently they're crap. I got bored quite fast of this place so I walked from corner to corner of the CBD and

 

Nice something car.

 

 

 

This kid was proud as anything of his ride. Inappropriate footwear for high speed vehicles though.

 

 

 

I actually hate co-operative sports and prefer adventure sports. But I couldn't resist joining in with these kids. They called screamed out JAGGIE CHAN randomly. Bottom right has a good future. He's got skill.

 

 

 

 

This guy worked at a bus company in the city. I asked him for some help and he walked me around the streets trying to find what i was looking for. An hour later and he drive past me on the street and took me to a late lunch. Then he drove me to the bus depot for my onward trip to Tabriz. Top bloke. Studies engineering, loves to cruise around in his car.

 

 

When I got to Tabriz it was 6am. I didn't anticipate this. I walked around trying to find a hotel for 2 hours in the cold and at one point contemplated buying a tent and staying in the park. Apparently there were many people from adjacent cities who had come into Tabriz for health care and thus fill up all the hotels. I eventually did find a room whose shower trickled so slowly it took a good 10 minutes to wash off soap. Guess you can't complain for $10/night.

 

 

 

A parts store.

 

 

I was thankful that I had found a room after a guesthouse or camping were my best options. Then I tried to find a powerpoint and this was the only thing I could find. I thought, this could not possibly be a live powerpoint. So I plug my phone in and .... ding! It starts charging. There wasn't even a switch for this, it was just live, constantly.

 

 

 

And then this fly comes barging into my room like its paying board. It managed to find its way in through a huge hole in the screen, but it can't find its way out. Firstly I don't understand how you can't remember the only way in. Secondly I can't understand how you can't freakin see the exit anyway. You are a fly, it is your bread and butter to see and fly. This isn't a sudoku puzzle. Thirdly, you just need to take a few (x6) steps backwards and you'll be out. Come on!

 

 

Three hours later and this all the ground he has covered. Hopeless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photos from Esfahan I forgot to add.

 

Awesome teahouse.

 

Awesome church. With local couch surfer.

 

Cool museum with old shit. I love the work on these pages. Reminds me of "colouring in" in primary school. This work deserves A LOT of scratch and sniff stickers. Maybe a few stamps as well.

 

Eating "dizzy". They cook up a stew of chickpeas, potato, meat. You drain out the juice and mash the remainder into a pulp. With the juice/soup you tear off bread and soak it so it becomes kinda... mushy. Consume all. I didn't like mashing it, I prefer to to choose if I want a single chickpea or a double, etc.

 

 

 

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It was a hard decision to leave Esfahan. Bias or not, Esfahanis love their city, and many consider it 'half the world'. Nagshe Jahan Square (it's not a fucking square) is downright beautiful and such an awesome place to picnic. As the sun sets there are families dotted everywhere eating stuff and drinking tea while the sound of hooves breaks the ambience every minute or so.

 

I hopped in a taxi a got ripped off by $2 to be taken to the bus terminal. I CBFd finding another and it was getting a bit late. I got my value back after the driver started pumping Empire of the Sun and Metronomy, then started dancing in the taxi, and screamed out SEX and DISCO. It was pretty good shit and a nice way to leave town. That said I would not want a female loved-one to get in a taxi with this guy. Mugshot:

 

Whiskey!!! Cognac!!! He says.

 

 

I caught a night bus to Kermanshah. It's meant to be pretty cool. Well I got there and decided then would be a good time to read the guidebook about it. Well turns out Kermanshah has old historic shit like rock carvings etc etc etc . Seen enough of those. I'm falling out of love with history. I've seen a zillion (1 000 000 000 000 000 000 000) mosques, shrines, etc that it's all the same to me. I've become an ignorant tourist. I admit it. Too late, I was in Kermanshah at 7am, drowsy as a dead rock and the friendly ladies on the bus kept saying bye to me while the unfriendly taxi drivers yelled in my ear "Can I rip you off?".

 

Annoyed, I put my backpack on and started walking towards town (5kms) but gave up after two and flagged down a taxi who wanted to rip me off more again. Tourists pay double the locals. Iran is hospitable but the taxi drivers are still dishonest, with exception of course. I got to the hotel and it was nothing like what the book says. I'm starting to think my book was written by real estate agents who are known to polish turds. Sheets were dirty, had hair from either four average men or one very hairy man, cigarette holes in the sheets, the shower leaked, it was a shared (SQUAT) toilet, no aircon, facing west afternoon sun. I started to cry a little and then I manned up, beat my chest like a silverback, then kicked a hole in the double-brick wall just for fun. I lay down next to all the other hair and said fuck this I'm a MAN. Then I exfoliated my pinky finger and tried to find somewhere to eat mini-muffins and lemon-tarts for lunch.

 

Venturing out of my hotel, I found a lot of men standing around. Just standing around doing

• and
• as above

 

What's the dealio, they're all YUPs retired @ 30 or is it a Kermanshan ritual? I want in either way. Onwards to my lunch I go anyway, the eccentric little hidden place that's meant to have good food. Enroute I'm subjected to many "something something CHINNE" equating to "oh look a Chinese!", and sometimes a few "CHING CHING CHONG" which I find amusing and don't take offence to. It's not their fault the Chinese popped out over a billion people, I understand completely that they think all Asians are Chinese. I think all whining bitches are Darlinghurstian so I guess I'm equally ignorant.

 

I get to the place and the guy there serves up some good English. He's self taught, and worked as a translator during the Iraq-Iran war, translating books and manuals for the army apparently. His food was ok, but unfortunately does the same thing alot of other restaurants do - serve hot food on a cold plate. I'm sure you're aware now that my stomach is either a bitch or I keep getting poisoned by some secret society/cult. So I'm quite paranoid about what i eat and warm meat is one of the things I sweat about. So after a little cry I beat my chest again and swallowed the kabab whole and drank half a litre of water without coming up for air once.

 

Not much else happened during the day, except

 

• I drank lots of carrot juice. It's actually nice and I don't want anyone to know I like it. Men are meant to hate this stuff so if anyone asks it tastes like rat piss ok.
• I tried and failed to find Homa restaurant. I don't know why they don't hire people to go out looking for tourists looking for their restaurant. I'd put it in the suggestion box but well, I can't find that either. PS guidebook your maps are shit and the size of spoon & fork symbol means the restaurant is about 900m in diameter which doesn't help to find a tiny doorway.
• I later returned to the lunch restaurant (the name is in the book which is over there and too far) and was invited by three girls to join their bubbly-smokey thing session (it's a huge bong pretty much). I initially refused twice as per custom but they insisted. So I joined them and their English was as good as watching cricket. Need I say more! The good part was that they were all ridiculously good looking. I can't understand what's the go with the gene pool in Iran but it's up their.

 

That night I had the shittest sleep since 1986 which was when I was one year old and couldn't sleep because I was really bored. The hotel was retaining heat from the day and the single window offered no crossflow. Once again if my hotel had a suggestion box I would offer to knock down the opposite two rooms and create an open balcony with a pool, perhaps two palm trees next to my bed and some underpaid kids to wave palm leaves at me while I sleep. One can only dream, but you don't get to dream when you sleep (sic) in an oven.

 

Next morning and I checkout and head back to the terminal to go to Sanandaj. This is the centre of Kurdistan region, quite close to the Iraqi border and a short drive from Baghdad where all the bad shit happens. I'm feeling more and more man each day. The bus to Sanandaj cost $1 for 120kms and the period Mercedes bus had some clever post-release engineering to its cooling system aka lift the bonnet.

 

 

Well it does the job ok even if they jam you into little corners with no leg room thus cutting off circulation to your legs which later means amputation and its all down hill from there.

 

So I'm in Sanandaj now and from my 1.4 star hotel is where I write. I now have a private squat toilet but a shared shower. You can't win in this price range. Oh guidebook, you're wrong again you piece of crap (shared shower as above). I wish I didn't pay $7 for my guidebook now. I've only gotten maybe $3.50 out of it so far.

 

There are many Kurds around here and they wear these puffy traditional pants which hipsters call chinos. Yea hipsters, you're 500 years too late! I'm even more of an alien here than in Kermanshah. I'm the only tourist here it seems. I walked around today for a good 5 hours and didn't see any other aliens. Which is kinda cool I guess. You feel special when everyone whispers behind your back and pretends they're not talking about you when in fact their dilated pupils and attempted-secret-nudge gives away their game-plan.

 

There's more carrot juice here as well. Actually there's a shit load of fresh produce here, it's a huge farming area I gather. Between Kermanshah and here that's all I saw, heaps of bloody farms. Strangely I also saw a lot of ten story apartment buildings in various stages of construction. Normally when you see this then the areas around it are becoming quite dense. But here, it's a low density of high-density housing but they're all empty. It's quite strange. It's as though they're expecting thousands of new migrants that will never come. I think perhaps someone is making a lot of money off these constructions which someone else thought were necessary. That's all conjecture that I'm pulling outta my butt. Could be anything.

 

I also went for a haircut today. I sit down and tell the barber "SE" and point at the clippers. That means THREE. Well he starts buzzing away and I say hang on buddy, that's not SE that's more like YEK (1). And sure enough it's bloody 1. And he gestures and mumbles something that I take to mean "yea this is a 1, but with the clippers its +2 so it totals 3". It bloody says 1 on the attachment, I don't know what this guy is talking about. But I think about the upside - no shampoo which I haven't been using anyway. There's also increased aerodynamic efficiency which is really important during extreme high speed sports, or other shit like that that I never do but am now considering.

 

Have a nice day everyone. Not many pictures because net sucks. BADLY

 

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Goodbye Esfahan. You and your people are truly beautiful. Kermanshah here I come.

 

 

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Firstly some pictures.

This is one of a handful of bridges which cross the Zayenderud River. Unfortunately the river is now dry as a bone; someone said that's because the water upstream has been diverted and sold by the government. When the river was running cafes were setup along the underside in the arches and every night up to 3am you would find hoards of families spread out all over the river bank having picnics. Nightlife now is just a fraction of what it once was.

 

 

I infiltrated the grand Abassi Hotel (you normally have to pay an entry fee to access its common areas and courtyards) to see what $60/night can get you. It's quite beautiful yet saddening that it costs Australians peanuts yet the majority of locals would only ever dream of spending a night here. There are huge open courtyards, rooftop restaurants, winding staircases lined with red carpet, and intricate paintings and artworks across the walls and roofs.

 

 

I metup with a CouchSurfing group on Friday and did a mini-trek into a mini-mountain. It reminded me of the Himalayas trip except on a mini-scale. I didn't need my Diamox for the 400m altitude. Friday is a rest day for Iranians and climbing this mountain is very popular. I think close to 2000 people were scattered on the mountain and around its recreational areas at its base. CouchSurfing seems to be more popular than Facebook in Esfahan, with a strong and committed group who find great pleasure in interacting with foreigners.

 

 

The sun fell.

 

 

They sat and sang Iranian songs loudly and with great pride. There is a German traveler guy center-front who did not sing but was as equally immersed as I was.

 

The view from the descent.

 

 

 

I'm kind of sick of mosques right now as grand and beautiful as they may be. What's concerned me more finding out how the people of Esfahan feel about their lives. I've tried to speak to as many people as possible and asked their thoughts on their own lives, their country, and where they see themselves in it. Unfortunately I can't really say many positive things about how they feel.

 

From the CouchSurfing group I couldn't find anyone who was content with their situation; all of them wanted some way out of the country. Many of the youths had a Masters in some discipline - engineering, architecture, urban planning. Yet none of them could find solid employment and others had to work in unrelated fields teaching English for $1-2/hour. I'm not really sure why they couldn't find work; it could be a combination of the rising inflation, skills surplus, lack of experience, lack of demand. I don't know. But they all felt like they had done all this hard work only to end up overqualified and working in a country where they can't be themselves to their full potential.

 

When I heard this it struck me as something straight out of Johan Galtung's work on violence and peace research. Galtung wrote a masterpiece paper back in 60s and called for the definition of violence to be rethought. When most of us think 'violence' what comes to mind is physical pain, punishment, weapons, assault, war, etc. Galtung basically said, violence is more than this, violence is when we are stopped from reaching our potential. We can be free from physical pain, bruises, and we may not fear for our lives. Yet if we are prevented from reaching our potential because of some external oppressive powers, then that is a form of violence that is subtle in appearance but nonetheless real and strong enough to hold back our progress.

 

I think about the life I live in Australia and I know that me and my family have infinite freedoms to do what we like. Here, the youth have been raised into a country whose economy is breaking down, whose job prospects within the country are poor, yet they struggle to leave and go abroad. Their money is worth so little and because English - an international language which is vital for travel - has been given such little and token significance in the curriculum it further reduces their chances of studying or working abroad.

 

I have to be very careful what I say here as I don't want to underestimate the sensitivities and capabilities of those who control my liberty here. But I have discussed this with others more knowledgeable and have concluded that it seems nobody is going to make any changes any time soon about these problems. I think it's easier to maintain control of a herd of sheep if you don't teach them how to break down fences.

 

I think it's only a matter of time anyway.

 

 

 

Esfahan

 

Look at that bloody leg room! This is a VIP coach, the seats recline a good deal, there is infinite leg room (so much that it's hard to annoy the person in front of you by kicking their seat), they feed you snacks (lumps of sugar they call biscuits/juice), and other awesome shit. 300kms cost me $3.30. HOW is that a VIABLE BUSINESS???? Well it must be. Australia we are doing something wrong.

 

The bloke next to me conked out pretty hard and slept the whole way, respect man. How do you do that? Took me about 17minutes to adjust my inflatable neck pillow whose design needs revision (It squeezes the sides of your neck cutting off blood to your brain - unnecessary feature). He conked out pretty well but only after an exchange of some farsi. I'm getting better, can say quite a few things including but not limited to

• hello
• how are you
• excuse me/sorry/thanks/goodbye
• how much is it?
• my hovercraft is full of eels! (unfortunately I have not come across a situation where this is appropriate but I can't wait for one cuz that would mean that 1. I would have a hovercraft and 2. eel sashimi)

 

 

I went walkies and came across this giganticnormous (sic) ...open space thing, called Naqsh-e Jahan Imam Square. It's actually rectangular 512m x 163m. The book says "this immense space is the second-largest square on earth". IT'S NOT SQUARE (But I know what you mean book). Apparently only Tiananmen Sq in China is bigger. They used to play polo here (Iran invented polo apparently).

 

... Anyway it's beautiful. There are mosques on 3 sides, you can see one in the picture below. That long wall stretches down and under each little arch is a shop selling handicrafts. It's like that on all four sides creating a magnificent enclosure where families sit and picnic in the middle near the pools and fountains. Around the outside there are horse-drawn carriages where you pay the owner to 1. sit in his carriage 2. whip the horse so it goes round in rectangles in the summer heat. It's cruel and mean and there are probably some group of people who would complain and sign petitions against it but it makes for a very picturesque scene. The photo below actually had a horse go across the frame, you can see a ghostly shadow of it to the left.

 

 

 

As I took this photo some guy with a surgical mask on (first sign that buzzed my weirdo-alert-alarm W.A.A.) said something something "CHINNE" which means "Chinese". So I responded and said "Na Chinne, manaz Australia hastam". And then he took that as an invitation to come up to my face and start mouthing off complete paragraphs of farsi and when I didn't respond he would just stare at me blankly. Why doesn't the phrasebook have PISS OFF FFS I"M TAKING A PHOTO. So here's the photo.

 

 

 

In Australia, these are pests. In India, they're native. In Iran, they're pets. That's a life lesson in so many ways but I don't want to get too philosophiccooliciiclaal.

 

 

This area is famous for miniatures ceramics/pottery/stuff. If you look from far, they look absolutely beautiful and detailed.

 

But when you look closely...the charm wears off. Am I an asshole? They want a lot of money for these things.

 

 

 

More pictures of Esfahan tomorrow as I do more exploring.

 

I forgot to mention previously, back in Shiraz, I saw people selling really expensive grass cuttings/mulch. If I knew it was worth so much I wouldn't have dumped all of mine in the public park across the road. You can even see gum leaves in the middle at the bottom. See the blue bag has the umbrella sign meaning don't water it otherwise grass will start growing again.

 

 

Ok laters.