Back on the bus and today we leave Amanda in Tehran. She has not been well and needs some time to herself to rest and recover. We will collect her on our way back in a couple of days.
Through the chaos of the city we pass through the government buildings area and are instructed not take any photos. We pull over outside the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. It is a beautiful building, with echoes of Persepolis but we are not permitted to photograph it.. As we walk down the tranquil tree lined avenue, with little fountains and beautiful tiling and carving on the buildings it is such a shame we are only able to commit it to memory. We are, however allowed to photograph the gate at the end of the avenue. We enter the Archaeological museum. Once again, no photos or handbags, but security is minimal.. Our guide gives a brief explanation on 2 or 3 key pieces and then we are left to our own devices. But most of the labels are in Farsi and the English explanation is cursory ' A piece of pottery'. Well, even I could have guessed that! Upstairs is a specialist exhibition on Human Rights from Persian history. We are limited to one visit of 3 mins. After 1 minute, I am none the wiser from the Farsi text but stay another 5 mins just for the hell of it.
We arrive in Esfahan just after sunset. Even on the journey into the city, I get a good feeling about it. We decide to try the restaurant recommended by the guide. It is a beautiful setting and they have typical Iranian dishes. Most of us try local dishes, with mixed success. Our overall impression is that Iranian food is generally plain or overly sweet with lots of saffron rice and no vegetables. Not for the first time, when the bill arrives we are left in some confusion as it is much more than we calculated. Once again, when I tackle the manager, the bill is adjusted to something more acceptable, but still more than the money we have collected. But when you're talking millions it's hard to put it into perspective. Finally Barry confesses. He forgot to pay for his soup... a whopping 6000 Rials (45p).
Back at the hotel and everyone settles in for the night. We have been given a curfew of 9pm and the girls have been instructed not to go out alone. I want to walk to the Bridge as it is beautifully lit at night but everyone else prefers to stay in the hotel.
As I stride out on my own into the crowds, the rebel in me quivers a bit at the groups of young men which line both the streets and the bridge, and at the stares I receive from families and the women in their hi-jabs. But it is only curiosity, and there are many shy greetings of 'Hello' and 'where are you from?' as I pass. As I am returning across the bridge, I meet Liv and Michele, also breaking curfew for an evening saunter. Liv lights a cigarette and 2 young soldiers passing, snarl something at us in Farsi, then the one hurls his cigarette end on the ground in disgust, as they storm off. We are a bit nonplussed as this is the first negative behaviour we have encountered in Iran. Then we dissolve in giggles as two minutes later, he sheepishly returns to pick up his butt and continue smoking.
Through the chaos of the city we pass through the government buildings area and are instructed not take any photos. We pull over outside the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. It is a beautiful building, with echoes of Persepolis but we are not permitted to photograph it.. As we walk down the tranquil tree lined avenue, with little fountains and beautiful tiling and carving on the buildings it is such a shame we are only able to commit it to memory. We are, however allowed to photograph the gate at the end of the avenue. We enter the Archaeological museum. Once again, no photos or handbags, but security is minimal.. Our guide gives a brief explanation on 2 or 3 key pieces and then we are left to our own devices. But most of the labels are in Farsi and the English explanation is cursory ' A piece of pottery'. Well, even I could have guessed that! Upstairs is a specialist exhibition on Human Rights from Persian history. We are limited to one visit of 3 mins. After 1 minute, I am none the wiser from the Farsi text but stay another 5 mins just for the hell of it.
We arrive in Esfahan just after sunset. Even on the journey into the city, I get a good feeling about it. We decide to try the restaurant recommended by the guide. It is a beautiful setting and they have typical Iranian dishes. Most of us try local dishes, with mixed success. Our overall impression is that Iranian food is generally plain or overly sweet with lots of saffron rice and no vegetables. Not for the first time, when the bill arrives we are left in some confusion as it is much more than we calculated. Once again, when I tackle the manager, the bill is adjusted to something more acceptable, but still more than the money we have collected. But when you're talking millions it's hard to put it into perspective. Finally Barry confesses. He forgot to pay for his soup... a whopping 6000 Rials (45p).
Back at the hotel and everyone settles in for the night. We have been given a curfew of 9pm and the girls have been instructed not to go out alone. I want to walk to the Bridge as it is beautifully lit at night but everyone else prefers to stay in the hotel.
As I stride out on my own into the crowds, the rebel in me quivers a bit at the groups of young men which line both the streets and the bridge, and at the stares I receive from families and the women in their hi-jabs. But it is only curiosity, and there are many shy greetings of 'Hello' and 'where are you from?' as I pass. As I am returning across the bridge, I meet Liv and Michele, also breaking curfew for an evening saunter. Liv lights a cigarette and 2 young soldiers passing, snarl something at us in Farsi, then the one hurls his cigarette end on the ground in disgust, as they storm off. We are a bit nonplussed as this is the first negative behaviour we have encountered in Iran. Then we dissolve in giggles as two minutes later, he sheepishly returns to pick up his butt and continue smoking.
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