Last Day in Isfahan
Breakfast was easy for the three of us. We decided it wouldn’t rain. We took the car to the 33 bridge architecture with 33 arches that traversed the Zayandehrood river that has been dry 6 months of the year from drought, today it flow in Isfahan and I love. A glorious green parkway flanks each side with people of all sorts. A set of powerful sculptures are growing as Isfahan asserts its lead role in Iran as an art mecca. We saw a flute player sculpture and a high copper sculpture with a pair of giant 6 to 8 foot tall hands in brown steel. The cool breeze from the river, shadow from the sky and perfect temperature touched us. Our next step was the palace of King Abbas set through an arch entry at the head of a long pool
It was three story high, flat roof was supported by 18 exterior and two interior wooden columns referred to as the 40 from their reflection in the pool. The entry was a stunning glass mirror hallway tile extravaganza through which we entered the main chambers whose walls were full of historical commemorative murals, world class paintings and it has decorated ceilings. The complex relationship between Turkmanestan, Armenia, Persia and other close by principalities battle scenes where shown. Again the quality and the magnificent of the doors, stained glass windows, murals and tile work verified its world heritage site status constructed over 400 years. The splendor and emotional impact of our tour just continued to deal down creative miracle after creative miracle as we explored under Sohrab's honoring direction.
We walked from the palace to the grand bazar to finalize our hunt for treasures and gifts with our last under budgeted purse. Lunch was at small restaurant where we were welcomed by a golden broidered dress doorman. Sohrab ordered an example of everything of the menu as the dishes we spread before us kebab, stew, rice, grilled tomatoes, garlic yogurt, bread, cabbage slaw, pickles and red cabbage.
Then back to the hunt. There was infinite amount of old and new stuff, metal, ceramic, food, textiles, jewelry, rugs, ancient locks, confectionaries, toys, enamelware, silver crafts, miniatures and water colors, glasses, shoes, bags, glass on and on. A young merchant, Habib sold me a gift Glim and the silk rug finally grabbed Lisa, however her incisive hunt continued with a lovely Turkish jewel necklace.
Hasan brought us home. Our added baggage was impossible to pack into his Kia limo. Lisa and I took stuck in our room and rolled out to sit in the serene courtyard garden of our paradise to think about where we were and express what we were returning home to share in our lives. The restaurant was another calm space. I had creamy barley soup and she a meat dinner kebab and rice half of which was left. Tomorrow to Kashan, then to Tehran in a new vehicle and driver, with our bloated bags and bloated hearts
Kashan
The usual hotel breakfast, and we’re ready for departure from our Abbasi hotel on our way north in a Toyota van. Ride to Kashan felt very swift and the terrain really felt bleaker than ever with the east side of freeway chocolate brown barrenness with no break. Sohrab and I spent two third of the trip working on transfer of my log to correct the draft transcription he has obtained.
Kashan a city of half a million was in the midst of the mud brick buildings an opposite unfinished major construction with no sense of civic design at all. Ornate two story residences, cranes and construction equipment were everywhere. The essentially two story town was filled with a few main streets, lined with shops of no particular elegance. The streets were more populated with women.
We first stopped for a bite to eat at 2 PM at a clean modest restaurant Nayeb where I was only able to have creamy barley soup, cold fresh lotus and carrot salad and the usual delicious rice. Sohrab, our new driver and Lisa grabbed large lunches of Kebabs.
We stopped at a circle of rose water distilleries near the main mosque. This was the seasonal moment and the ponging of pink roses were harvested to produce a major export of drinkable rose water and last so perfumes which we bought. We bought a half of the most delicious honey to try and add to our homebound bloat which we just could not resist. Kashan was the rose center of Iran though we saw no commercial quantity of growth.
We finally got into our traditional Kashan style converted home to hotel. Rahab a Qajar period dwelling that was all brick steps and exquisite doors surrounding a typical placed central pool garden. Rugs and pillows were spread in a set for guests to sit. Every key space required a stair level climbs or descends leads to a room; actually a little suite was dimly lit with twin beds we used for our suitcases and a queen bed in the central space with a tiny table before reaching the modern renovated bathrooms. Rugs covered the main rooms and the doors were locked by a lock and key.
We dropped our bags and set off to the Kashan bazar that was slowly reopening after the mid-day break. A practical long main corridor was side passages filled with the usual or less than usual quality goods many still shuttered as we started down the access. The most substantial shops were carpet sellers as Kashan was a major high quality producer of the best handmade rugs. Most were huge which was curious for such a small town and a challenge for tourists to get such big rugs home, the great stuff was everywhere and extraordinary. We walked and walked to the center access dome square with its central pool, had a few cups of hot tea in the glass with sugar cubes and chatted with passerby. We had earlier chatted with three young girls who seemed interested at first contact and tended to spoke to us about somewhat remote dreams, all of course hope to immigrate and had to continue vocational education.
At 9 we exited passing by a huge congregation of black clad mourners in and around a glittering chamber memorializing a dead businessman. The numbers who gathered exceeded to 100 and the cluster of distinct groups and people each focused on some aspect of devotion was very complex. Numerous people and children moved with us extending their appreciation for our visit. It was an unbroken experience since our arrival in Iran. We bought some rose water and ice cream and we returned to finish the day in our quiet room
Back to Tehran
Our little Qajar style hotel was originally built over 100 years ago and Sohrab described how water canals flew through to keep food stuffs and the house cool in the 8 months of hot weather of each year. Now recently restored, it has become a tourist and local destination to relax and eat for many locals.
Waiting to leave I met a young man by the gateway who was an urban planner and civil engineer who was working in southern Iran where the temperature’s too high with 85% humidity for extra salary. He wore a t-shirt we decided he didn’t really understand the meaning of the picture on it. How interesting the casual world can be.
We began our 3+ drive north and continued our relentless conversation about our journeys together in these last two weeks. By 2 PM we arrived at a modern and truly crowded roadside complex were travelers could eat and buy a world of confectionary, honey, perfumes, souvenirs, and tourism memorabilia and choose variety of eateries. It was Iran’s answer to our Sacramento. Two dozen t-shirt wearing soccer players rolled in behind us and of course we got the Lisa photo up.
The goodies were so beautifully displayed a diabetic’s nightmare and arrange of sweet and exotic desert products of encyclopedic variety. We ordered a buffet lunch of a variety of salads, coleslaws, pastas and tray after tray of lovely Persian choices. Lunch has been a labor for me from the start as Sohrab piled on choices that I could not even have room to taste. Both Lisa and I always split our meals and still there was meals left.
Over and over we encountered a gracious, warm, curious, and smiling people unlike anything at home. As we left three teachers sitting on a bench at the entry waited to talk with us and get the photo, our daily routine. We departed with an ice cream each for the last 2 hours to Tehran.
Sohrab had his assignments; Send me the draft transcriptions of my log to edit; Draft a model index of his tour data, names, periods, dates, places as a reference to test with his clients to help grasp and remember who is who and what is where; arrange to set up the money transfer for Arezoo, work with Lisa to put a plot to meet in Paris or San Francisco next year; and plan to build his professional and national growth and influence in his field. We arrived at the Spinas hotel with all our treasures and spent the next hours preparing to return home in perfect balance. We left from the Spinas at 1 AM