Somewhere between Iraq and a hard place
I'm in Iran! But I'll get to that soon, first I have to get through Turkey.
Istanbul continued to delight. I had the fantastic experience of a traditional bathhouse. I was directed through the women's door and greeted by a 70 (or so) year old woman in only pants who knew about four words of English, and knew how to use them well. "you, here" she directed me to the change room, "you, here, wet" she directed me to the basins where I poured water over myself. The building was sublime, massive domed ceiling and beautiful light filtered through the steam. There was another woman there for her regular shower, having a smoke and chatting on her phone which added to the atmosphere but took away the grandness of the experience a bit. The 70 year old directed me to a low stone table in the center of the room "you, here" she scrubbed me thoroughly with a loofah, "you, wet" I rinsed off "you, here" she soaped me up and gave me an intense massage with soap foam. "you, wet" rinse, "you, here, dry" sauna, "you, wet" cool off, "you, dry" she handed me a towel.
It was lovely, I felt all warm and soft afterwards, sad though to see that in a place that would once have been a thriving hub of social networking and conversation I was the only person there for the better part of an hour. Standing around naked is not really a a problem for me (I spent too long in Europe for nudity to be an issue) but I gotta say, I don't think and one would have a problem with body confidence when they are hanging out with a over weight 70 year old lady only wearing wet pants.
We also went into a byzantine underground water reservoir, to a roman viaduct, on a cruise up the passage of water that joins the Mediterranean sea to the Black sea and divides Europe from Asia, to the Islamic art museum, Archaeological museum, bazaars, strolled though alleys and along the waterfront and many cafes. Are you impressed? I am; it was very easy to be entertained without even leaving our sweet street of carpet shops and restaurants.
On Wednesday night we got on a train to Tehran. Magic. 3 nights and 4 days of watching the landscape slowly merge from Western Turkey into Kazakhstan. We crossed Lake Van in the middle of a still and moonlit night with a thunderstorm the flickered on the horizon. We arrived on the other side at 2am and got on another train. It was here not far from the borders of Iraq and Georgia that we shared and cabin with two socially awkward talkative Iranian men. At 5am we reached the Turkish boarder. I tucked my hair away in a little bonnet that sits under my head scarf. The red dye in has washed out so I pretty much have pink hair now. Best keep it totally hidden. Sometimes I think I should rename this blog "Rachel's hair" because I really do spent an inordinate amount of time referring to my hair.
Back in the train and the most painless border crossing into Iran, our passports were checked for the Turkish departure stamp, then taken, then returned with a Iranian entry stamp, then checked. Awesome, I slept through most of it, only waking up to to the call of "passport" each now and again.
We decided not to get off in Tehran, choosing instead to get off at a small town of only 2 million people near the border (this meant a beautiful introduction to the country and also not spending another 7 hours in the train cabin with the two socially awkward and talkative Iranians). Tabriz is wonderful. Iran is fantastic.
We have been here a day and a half, we have met friendly, kind, interesting people, we have wandered though clean, organised streets, bubbling market places, lively restaurants, and brightly lit malls. We have had many cups of tea and never once paid for a cup.
Today we went out of town to visit a village known for its houses carved out of strange rock formations. It's called Kandovan. Lovely, beautiful, superb.
So far the only downfalls of visiting here is that wearing the head scarf is somewhat inconvenient, and I can't access myspace or facebook. I'm not a huge drinker so the lack of booze is no biggie. The biggest issue before getting here was sorting out money, because of sanctions we have to carry cash (like in Sudan, it's not possible to use cards or travellers cheques... not that travellers cheques ever were very useful after ATMs spread across the world). It was difficult to predict how much US dollars to bring. Now we are here, we over estimated the inflation and also found that euros and pounds can also be exchanged on the black market.
That's it for now, I'm kinda overwhelmed by the beauty and serenity of this city. Iran is cool. Breath out, I'm safe and happy.
Istanbul continued to delight. I had the fantastic experience of a traditional bathhouse. I was directed through the women's door and greeted by a 70 (or so) year old woman in only pants who knew about four words of English, and knew how to use them well. "you, here" she directed me to the change room, "you, here, wet" she directed me to the basins where I poured water over myself. The building was sublime, massive domed ceiling and beautiful light filtered through the steam. There was another woman there for her regular shower, having a smoke and chatting on her phone which added to the atmosphere but took away the grandness of the experience a bit. The 70 year old directed me to a low stone table in the center of the room "you, here" she scrubbed me thoroughly with a loofah, "you, wet" I rinsed off "you, here" she soaped me up and gave me an intense massage with soap foam. "you, wet" rinse, "you, here, dry" sauna, "you, wet" cool off, "you, dry" she handed me a towel.
It was lovely, I felt all warm and soft afterwards, sad though to see that in a place that would once have been a thriving hub of social networking and conversation I was the only person there for the better part of an hour. Standing around naked is not really a a problem for me (I spent too long in Europe for nudity to be an issue) but I gotta say, I don't think and one would have a problem with body confidence when they are hanging out with a over weight 70 year old lady only wearing wet pants.
We also went into a byzantine underground water reservoir, to a roman viaduct, on a cruise up the passage of water that joins the Mediterranean sea to the Black sea and divides Europe from Asia, to the Islamic art museum, Archaeological museum, bazaars, strolled though alleys and along the waterfront and many cafes. Are you impressed? I am; it was very easy to be entertained without even leaving our sweet street of carpet shops and restaurants.
On Wednesday night we got on a train to Tehran. Magic. 3 nights and 4 days of watching the landscape slowly merge from Western Turkey into Kazakhstan. We crossed Lake Van in the middle of a still and moonlit night with a thunderstorm the flickered on the horizon. We arrived on the other side at 2am and got on another train. It was here not far from the borders of Iraq and Georgia that we shared and cabin with two socially awkward talkative Iranian men. At 5am we reached the Turkish boarder. I tucked my hair away in a little bonnet that sits under my head scarf. The red dye in has washed out so I pretty much have pink hair now. Best keep it totally hidden. Sometimes I think I should rename this blog "Rachel's hair" because I really do spent an inordinate amount of time referring to my hair.
Back in the train and the most painless border crossing into Iran, our passports were checked for the Turkish departure stamp, then taken, then returned with a Iranian entry stamp, then checked. Awesome, I slept through most of it, only waking up to to the call of "passport" each now and again.
We decided not to get off in Tehran, choosing instead to get off at a small town of only 2 million people near the border (this meant a beautiful introduction to the country and also not spending another 7 hours in the train cabin with the two socially awkward and talkative Iranians). Tabriz is wonderful. Iran is fantastic.
We have been here a day and a half, we have met friendly, kind, interesting people, we have wandered though clean, organised streets, bubbling market places, lively restaurants, and brightly lit malls. We have had many cups of tea and never once paid for a cup.
Today we went out of town to visit a village known for its houses carved out of strange rock formations. It's called Kandovan. Lovely, beautiful, superb.
So far the only downfalls of visiting here is that wearing the head scarf is somewhat inconvenient, and I can't access myspace or facebook. I'm not a huge drinker so the lack of booze is no biggie. The biggest issue before getting here was sorting out money, because of sanctions we have to carry cash (like in Sudan, it's not possible to use cards or travellers cheques... not that travellers cheques ever were very useful after ATMs spread across the world). It was difficult to predict how much US dollars to bring. Now we are here, we over estimated the inflation and also found that euros and pounds can also be exchanged on the black market.
That's it for now, I'm kinda overwhelmed by the beauty and serenity of this city. Iran is cool. Breath out, I'm safe and happy.
posted by Rachel | 7:21 pm
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4 Comments
