North Africa ‘Plus’ Travel Diary

2011

 

The start of today was really the finish of yesterday.  Because of the death of Yazd’s Grand Mullah, the Zoroastrian Fire Temple (also known as the Ateshkadeh) had been closed yesterday afternoon when we tried to visit.  It was therefore with some relief that we arrived there at 8:15 am this morning to find the front gates were wide open.

Despite is modest size, the Fire Temple in Yazd is a major “cathedral” of Zoroastrianism world-wide.  The flame in the temple, which was visible behind a sheet of glass, is said to have been burning continuously since 470 AD, having been relocated three or four times since then as temples have been relocated or re-built.  The present building is fairly recent, having been constructed in 1940.

By 8:30 am, we had started our 350 kilometre drive to Esfahan.  Although the roads were excellent all the way, the scenery was unremarkable - flat, dry, arid plains all the way, with the only relief being a few small villages and lots of high tension power line poles.  Akba was in a less expansive mood during today’s drive, choosing to replace his usual detailed commentaries with a CD of Persian jazz.  Apparently Akba is a jazz lover, and his CD was an interesting fusion of traditional Persian melodies and New Orleans jazz.  If you can imagine the kind of jazz that you would choose to use when performing a belly dance, then perhaps you have some idea of the music we heard.

I quite enjoyed the music, but the look on Tim’s face said to me “I would rather be sitting here with a cat on my lap”.

We made just one stop on the drive, which was in the small town of Na’in (sometimes spelt Naein).  Na’in is famous for its carpet making, which was explained by Akba in these words: “In Na’in, the carpets are usually white.  Often they are pink.  Frequently they are blue.  Green is also very common.  Most of them also use black.  They are very beautiful and famous”.

However, it was not the carpets we had come to see, but the 10th-century Jameh Mosque. This mosque had a beautiful elegant simplicity with no ceramic decorations but some exquisite and well-preserved stucco decoration.  At least as interesting for me were the nearby remains of a very ancient abobe castle, the history of which is - remarkably - totally unknown.  Surrounding the castle were many old abobe houses, most of them destroyed by what seemed to have been a fairly recent earthquake.  The quietness of the destroyed houses was eerie - the loudest noise I heard while I was exploring was the cry of a faraway cat.

Having explored the mosque and the destroyed houses, we decided to have a light lunch before proceeding on our journey.  The barley and lemongrass soup with salad was delicious - not too heavy and just what we needed to revive us in the growing heat of the day.  By the time we left Na’in, the temperature had risen to 41 degrees Celsius.

We reached Esfahan at a little after 2:30 pm, by which time it was 46 degrees.  Esfahan is a city of about 3 million people, and is described by the Lonely Planet guidebook as “the jewel of ancient Persia and one of the finest cities in the Islamic world”.  Although the original plan was to drop our belongings at the hotel and rest during the heat of the day, circumstances conspired to change that plan (i.e. Akba got lost), so we began our look around Esfahan instead.

To surprise of us all, and especially Akba, we found ourselves at Esfahan’s Jameh Mosque.  Coincidentally having the same name as the mosque we had visited just a few hours earlier in Na’in, “Jameh” can be translated as either “Grand” or “Friday”, and the Jameh Mosque is indeed the largest mosque in Iran.  This beautiful structure is like a museum of Islamic architecture as it has been extended at various times, and thus comprises components built in various styles over many centuries.  I felt that the mosque was a true synthesis of art and mathematics, and this was evident in many ways such as the complex three-dimensional geometry of the ceramic decorations and the upwards transition from a square building to a circular dome at the top.  The main courtyard of the mosque was grandly impressive in scale and design, and yet there were also many intimate, cool, shady areas where quiet reflection was not only possible, but seemed the natural thing to do.

In our search for our hotel, we drove to the Zeyandeh River where several beautiful bridges had been built over the centuries.  Sadly, the Zeyandeh River is just a dried up sandy river bed at the moment because of a drought - ot the government’s siphoning off water upstream, depending on who you believe.  Despite the dry river bed, the magnificence of the bridges was still very evident.  We stopped first at the Khajoo Bridge, which was constructed as a footbridge to a royal palace by Shah Abbas II in about 1650.  Regarded by locals as Esfahan’s finest bridge, it is 110 metres long and has two levels of terraced arcades, the lower level containing locks that regulate the water flow - when there is water, that is.  It truly is a magnificent structure, and it must look even better with water flowing beneath it.

By this time, the temperature was still rising (it was now 49 degrees), so we did manage to locate and go to our hotel.  Tim and I spent about an hour catching up with e-mails in some very welcome air conditioning, and then headed out for a walk of about a kilometre to one of Esfahan’s other beautiful bridges, the 298 metre long Si-o-Seh Bridge.  This bridge has 33 arches, and was built between 1599 and 1602 as a traffic bridge across the Zeyandeh River.  It looked wonderful in the golden glow of the afternoon sunlight, although like the Khajoo Bridge, some water would no doubt have enhanced the scene.

After walking back to our hotel, a lovely dinner of chicken kebab (me) and lamb kebab (Tim), accompanied by yogurt, finished a very pleasant though hot day.

Having said that, I am still trying to process one comment that Akba made to Tim when we arrived at our hotel this afternoon.  Looking upwards into Tim’s eyes, and with great sincerity, Akba said “you are a very quiet and gentle boy”.

It was arguably the second-most outrageous comment I have heard since I have been travelling in Iran.  Number one outrageous comment remains something I heard a few days ago when a young man told me frankly: “I really like Israeli people.  They kill Muslims”.

Somehow I suspect that the problems in this part of the world are far from over.

Day 22 - Yazd to Esfahan, Iran

Monday

4 July 2011

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