Travelling to Iran #2

 Impromptu photoshoot at the Pink Mosque, Shiraz

 I am here, in Iran! On Sunday 28th,  the day before my departure from London, I checked out the British Museum collection of artefacts from Ancient Iran. There is a lot of gold from ancient burials,  statuettes,  some big casts from Persepolis and the famous Cyrus cylinder, inscribed in Akkadian cuneiform.
I marvelled at the sheer size of Persepolis - there was a film showing its reconstruction.  I got a sense of what I was going to see.  Then on Tuesday early morning, I landed at Tehran IKA after a longish flight, via Istanbul. I was met by my tour guide, Marina, and spent the day sightseeing in Tehran, after checking in at the hotel and getting hold of a - vital for me - local SIM card.
Marina took me to the Golestan Palace and the Jewellery museum, both equally stunning. We had lunch at a hundred years old cafe in the centre of the city,  where the food is home cooked,  and in the early evening we went, at my request, to a beauty salon and had a mani-pedi, the best possible thing for my tired, aching feet. It was also an excellent opportunity for me to see Iranian women in a women-only environment.   I learnt very quickly that there is a disjuncture, in Iran, between public and private life, certainly so for women, less so for men.
 On Wednesday morning, we went to the airport - a different one - to fly to Shiraz but our flight was delayed by several hours, which caused a lot of frayed tempers among the waiting passengers, so we ended up arriving later than planned but still in time to meet the rest of the  group, a few Australians travelling to Iran from Tashkent. They are on a Silk Road tour, which includes Samarkand. I am only joining them for the last leg of the tour, Iran, as there was no other group travelling from the UK at my chosen time.

Iranian girl posing for a photo at the Persepolis ruins

Shiraz is enchanting.  The highlight of the tour for me has been, so far,  our visit to Persepolis. I felt really moved by the sight of the necropolis with the burial place of Darius the Great - not precisely a tomb, as Zoroastrians did not bury their dead but put their bodies in the Towers of Silence, where they were consumed by vultures and/or insects. I really felt the impact of history. We visited several other sites, from Islamic times, including the Pink Mosque, and a shrine where I had my fortune told, as is customary. Apparently, I need to be more humble, to avoid being a  target of hatred. I shall think it over, it did not occur to me that it might ever be the case.
I love Iran. Friendly people, delicious food, beautiful landscapes, a rich history, not to mention the fantastic carpets - I am a carpet lover.
Iranian women are incredibly stylish. I am getting used to wearing the compulsory hijab, just a scarf  - a rusari - draped on my hair. I also wear a hat on top, the sun is rather intense). When I look around me I see that Iranian women interpret the hijab in many different ways, pushing boundaries, and nonchalantly letting the scarf fall off to reveal the beauty of their hair,  often reaching their hips.  I have seen a few 'Fendi' manteaux (manto in Farsi), a longish jacket worn over a t-shirt and trousers, jeans  or leggings;  some women wear  a Hermes scarf - sometimes a genuine one, sometimes a clever fake - under their chador, a long black garment that covers the whole figure but which is not compulsory making sure the Hermes scarf can be seen peeping through ; some women allow their rusari to cover just the nape of their neck, bringing one end forward to  the front. The rusari is held in place on their heads by a hair knot, which keeps the scarf in place thus allowing quite a bit of hair to frame the face. Hands are always well manicured, with the nail polish often matching the scarf. Cosmetic surgery is in fashion, and many women go to Shiraz, where there is a significant number of established cosmetic surgeons, to have their noses done, their lips filled, their eyebrows reshaped through microblading. Some have work done on their boobs and bottoms, and they find smart ways to display them without becoming immodest, eg a tight top under an unbuttoned manto, a see-through manto over tight jeans or leggings. They also tend to be on the tall side,  especially the younger generation, which gives them a great presence.  Foreign women wear their rusari messily, it takes a while to get it right - our guide spent a few minutes over dinner showing us how to tie it gracefully.

Me at the tomb of Cyrus with an enchanting local little girl

Coming to Iran was very much an impromptu decision, I only made up my mind in February. I would have travelled independently - as an Italian passport holder, I qualify for VOA and do not have to be escorted by a guide at all times, which is, unfortunately, the case for British tourists, because of the less cordial relationship between Iran and the UK.
 But I had never been to a middle eastern country before, and I hardly speak any Farsi, so I felt unsure about travelling on my own. I will come back, I am determined to,  and will improve my Farsi. With a group, one is bound by specific rules, and there is limited freedom to explore, due to the tight schedule.
But I am not complaining.
There is no mass tourism here, though there are still numerous tourists from all over the world and all walks of life. But it's nothing like, say, Kuta beach in Bali or Palma de Majorca in summer. Iranians are welcoming and not blatantly out to make money out of you as it often ends up happening in places overrun by tourists.
Now I am on my way to Yazd, by minibus,  I am getting a sense of the country's landscape. We are travelling through Central Iran.
I shall continue my travelogue in the next few days.



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