Days: 553-554 (30 December 2015 – 31 December 2015)

Total distance travelled: 139,788.00 kilometres (86,824.85 miles)

Twelve months ago as rum was swilled late into the night on the sweat inducing border between Nicaragua and Costa Rica, the thought of a little Shiraz to help us see in yet another new year would have certainly sounded a little more civil and not at all bad (not that there had been anything wrong with our previous year’s celebrations).

A full year later, we fulfilled the Shiraz element, just not in the way we necessarily may have expected.

Remove that lovely drop of vino tinto (red wine) and replace it with the southern Iranian city, and all of a sudden the end of 2015 was looking a completely different affair altogether (alcohol being illegal and all in the Islamic Republic).

Still, despite spending over a half a day (well, it was in fact a whole night) on a bus from Tehran to get there, it wasn’t until we were about an hour distant that we decided to open our guidebook and research accommodation options.

To our surprise, options that appealed to our budget seemed few, but we snagged a new lead thanks to the Triposo App, and from there it was pretty much a case of let’s hope for the best.

Our start to the city could have been any foreign city in the world, as we weaved our way between taxi touts, and grabbed our bearings as we made our exit from the bus station.

It was a fresh morning, but the walk was welcomed after yet another night spent in the not so comfortable confines of a coach (bus), and after initially receiving some false directions which saw us wander up the wrong alley and knock on the wrong door, we found our way to our potential hostel which thankfully did have some dorm beds available.

After enjoying a complimentary breakfast, we were then back out the door to explore this rather famous city.

We already knew we’d use it as a base to explore the nearby ruins of Persepolis, but as for what else this place had in store, we didn’t actually know.

With our hostel also within the warren of narrow streets, more alleyways in truth, we already had a feel for how difficult to navigate these individual city blocks might be.

Still, we were keen to explore, and it seemed the shortest way to reach the historic centre would be wandering our way through the narrow alleys and laneways that formed the Vakil Bazaar (amongst others).

They were certainly more functional/practical than geared towards tourists, with your typical fabric and clothing vendors, spices galore and piles of tobacco sold by weight.

As we crossed roads and entered other covered areas, the boundaries between bazaars was well and truly blurred, but we did at this stage have a specific destination in mind, so waltz along we did.

The north of Shiraz is divided by the Khosk River, and after passing it, the two busy motorways that hug its flanks as well as a large volume of bicycle repair shops and sweets vendors, we got to Imamzadeh-ye Ali Ebn-e Hamze, the tomb of Emir Ali.

I’ll be honest, I think we’d read of him at the time, but I can no longer recall who Emir Ali actually was…

Like most holy sites of Islam, it looked nice from without with its many coloured tiles and mosaic, but not the sort of place that would make you instantly reach for your camera.

Inside however, this place was something else entirely.

A chador was loaned to Sarah as we entered and fortunately photography was permitted as we immediately became entranced by this incredible interior.

Did you ever as a child enter a hall of mirrors?

In terms of reflection and the level of delight they do compare, on every level of beauty however, this place was simply stunning!

Seemingly ever inch was covered with Venetian mirrors!

A few locals were about, although whether they were residents of Shiraz or simply Persians I’ve not idea, and after snapping as many photos as seemed reasonable, as well as simply savouring our surrounds we moved along.

Downtown, we wandered the wide open expanses surrounding the Karim Khan Citadel (the reason the space exists is an incredible feat of public works that sees the main road through the city run underground), and debated whether it was worth the surprisingly high cost of the entrance fee.

We forewent the steep costs, and instead said hello to what seemed like an old friend, the photographer we’d missed from Bratislava (or was he from Villa de Leyva?).

We were keen to sample some good Persian fare for our lunch, and our guidebook had suggested there was a really good option tucked away inside the bazaar (well, one of the many), but buggered if we could find it!

Given how tucked out of the way it ultimately proved to be (at least when we finally found it), we thought how can this place stay in business.

Within, the place was packed with a combination of tourists and I’m assuming wealthier locals, so perhaps it was just our navigating that was poor, but nevertheless a pretty delicious and filling lunch was had.

Back at our lodging, a mixture of private rooms and one large dormitory (it seems that no questions were asked in regards whether we were married or not which was one small fear before we’d arrived in Iran), we found that it was a real mix of folks and inevitably, at least when I’m around anyway, we got chatting with some of them.

As already mentioned, we’d planned to use Shiraz as a base from which to explore the ancient city of Persepolis, so when a Swiss couple whose company we’d been very much enjoying suggested we join them the following day (they’d hired a driver), we were quick to jump at the chance!

Filomeen was an architect, whilst husband Antoine was researching treatments for cancer, so it made the pair of us, presently jobless seem rather inferior (we didn’t truly feel that, but who doesn’t respect someone fighting the good fight against cancer)!

The only catch with their offer the following day was they were then travelling directly on to their next destination, but we decided we’d figure out our return journey when the time came.

With the shorter winter day seeing the daylight fading soon, we decided to wander back out to explore the Hafez Tomb.

It lay beyond the same river as had the incredible mirrored affair we’d visited earlier in the day, and we’d heard that it was supposedly quite a lovely place so off we set, essentially retracing our steps.

It wasn’t yet fully dark, but by the time we arrived at the tomb, which is in truth a garden, the light was most certainly dim and this perhaps lessened our first impressions of what we could glimpse through the outer fence.

Purportedly a famous poet, the gardens/tomb was supposed to be filled with music, however all we cold hear was the chatter of locals and a sign displaying what we felt was an expensive entrance fee. Instead, we had one last peek at the by now shadowed garden and continued on our way.

I’m sure we weren’t the first foreigners they’d seen, but a gaggle of local lads were quite keen to pose for us, comfortable in their sandals despite the cold evening air, and as we journey back to our lodgings, we found a far better place in which to spend our Rials.

Well in truth, there were several places, so we just chose one at random and sauntered home with a random selection of local cakes for dessert.

We spent some more time in the company of our Swiss friends that night, sipping tea and chatting with others at our hostel including a portly Turk who thought himself a bit of a know it all.

He considered himself an authority on… well everything, and if that had been correct, then fair enough… only he wasn’t, even getting basic facts in regards his home country either wrong, or grossly exaggerated.

A bit over his antics by the evenings end, I gave him the moniker of Fattaturk (a name well received by our a company, a bit of stab at his physique combined with modern Turkey’s most famed hero). Sure, a bit of a cheap shot, but it was something kept between friends.

The following morning saw us breakfast before our half day at Persepolis, and as we made our way back into the city (yes, we did manage to find our way back), it was then that our driver decided that the price negotiated was in fact literally just back to the city (as in its fringes) so tried his luck at re-negotiating another fee that would take us back into the city proper.

Now we weren’t down with that, and although we didn’t know the place all that well, we had a decent view of it as we descended through the hills that formed its outskirts, so decided we’d be happy to walk it.

That’s how we found ourselves on the edges of town, and parked underneath the impressive looking Quran Gate.

We posed for a couple of selfies, chuckled at the manicured garden of colourful cabbages (seriously, it was made up of green, purple and white cabbage) before beginning the stroll back into town under more gorgeous blue skies.

A young father and his son provided us with lunch in the form of the most delicious falafel we’d had in a very long time (if not ever), so we were quite satisfied by the time we were back in what I’d consider downtown Shiraz.

We’d suffered from grey skies the previous morning, whilst today we’d been off early to experience the ruins, so as such we’d missed one of the cities more famous sights, the beautiful stained glass windows of the Nasir Al-Mulk Mosque.

On sun filled mornings (like today would have been), the bright light streams through its walls of coloured glass creating the most beautiful rainbow of colours.

We’d missed out on this, but figured even on a sun filled afternoon, it might still be worth a bit of a sticky beak.

There was an entrance fee, but this one we were certainly willing to pay and thus began our afternoons experience at the Masjed-e Nasir-al-Molk mosque.

We didn’t get the whole effect of rainbows scattered across the plush floors within, but it was still a beautiful interior regardless that had us cursing our ill fortune in regards the weather the morning before.

Outside, but still within the mosques inner grounds, it didn’t look half bad either with the afternoon sun casting long shadows, whilst the tiled wall opposite remained ablaze in light.

In a country such as this, where the year was actually 1393 and would not conclude for quite a few of our own months yet (and alcohol is illegal), it almost snuck up on us that it was New Years eve of 2015!

Back home, we’d likely be indulging in a few beers, or maybe even a bottle or two of the wine that bears this cities name, but here, in the Islamic Republic, we did things a little differently.

That’s not to say we couldn’t have tried to ‘party’ in the same vein as home.

Our host at our unnamed accommodation had purportedly advised some others that if they wanted alcohol, he could take their order and he’d be able to procure it and have it to them within half an hour.

We weren’t feeling that adventurous in a place where it is officially illegal, so went down a different path.

If you pictured a cup of hot corn with a blob of mayonnaise, some cheese and a dash of salt and pepper, then it’s time for you to get into the business of telling fortunes because that’s exactly what we did!

Happy New Year!

 

Notes:

* Our overnight bus from Tehran to Shiraz cost us 50,000 Toman (500,000 Rials) per person.

* Entrance into the Imamzadeh-ye Ali Ebn-e Hamze is surprisingly FREE!

* There was a 100,000.00 Rial entrance fee for the Masjed-e Nasir-al-Molk mosque.