The rooster in the yard and my nervousness helped me to be awake early. First, I tried to upload those photos that had not been uploaded through the night but was not successful, so I decided to leave, again driven by nervousness and the idea to try to reach Isfahan in one day.
The street was sometimes empty for some minutes, creating a very special atmosphere in this dry and stony environment.
and all alone, nothing else green or even blossoming, this flower!
Two times, I came along fortresses, the second one is on video, but I am 1 month behind with the videos and want to take photos out of the videos. Once…
My plan was, to decide after the first 55km, that were uphill, if going on to Isfahan would be an option, as the rest should steadily go down. I felt quite good at that time and so, when I arrived in Daran, I was surprised to get the suggestion to stay overnight I said merci, no. But this man didn’t give up. He drove besides me with his motorcycle, showing in this and that direction where I “should” go and finally saying at least I should visit the museum for 15min. I finally agreed. The museum was closed, and I should wait for 20min until someone would come. Meanwhile, I was surrounded by a group of man, invited for tea, again invited to stay, photos had to be taken and I was counting minutes as I wanted to go on and didn’t feel to comfortable with this man who was very polite and helpful but a bit intrusive.
my helper, the man in black…
All the time a pointed up his kindness and said thank you, but when I finally could leave he not even looked in my direction. This showed me that my uneasy feelings were not only because of time stress.
In Tiran, a car with a calf stopped for a photo shooting and for another time Parastoo’s information paper was helpful.
And for the second time of this day I got an invitation for a homestay and again I said no, hoping I would not regret that in the end of the day. Would it have been a good or at least interesting experience?
At least a better one than the next “invitation”
At that time, the road was reduced from 4 to 2 lanes, but the parallel new road was almost finished and as the traffic had started to increase after the last two cities, I had changed to that unofficial alternative. A car stopped, and the man intensely waved that I also should stop. And without hesitation, with his fingers he made unmistakeable gestures pointing at me and himself. I thought, my rejection was clear but still polite and drove on. But he came again and maybe he wanted to differentiate his invitation, so I tried to be clearer. He gave up and drove away.
Maybe it is good to make clear that I pity homosexuals especially in a country like Iran where they are not only discriminated, but their lives are threatened. Even in very open-minded society it must be a challenge for adolescents or whenever someone realizes that his/her sexual orientation differs to the majority and maybe this in the further consequence explains some misbehaviour that I would not tolerate in other cases.
The afternoon had already advanced, but because of clouds it only sometimes was hot. However, the wind sometimes was so strong that I could only go with 10-14km although it was flat or even slightly downhill most of the time.
I began to be a bit exhausted and needed more food breaks. I still head some sweet breads that Fatimeh and given to me in Arak. And on the bottom of the bag I found a note she had put in…
Well, I came nearer to Isfahan and the last 40km, it became more and more urban, so that I had the feeling of arriving soon although I knew how many kilometres still lay ahead of me.
When I finally reached the city centre, I saw the sign of “7hostels” what had been my first option and only because of some obscurities I later had decided to go to another hostel. Now I was ready to agree with the higher price (double to those hostels where Nader and I had been) and accepted that in fact 7hostels is a kind of brand or so and the real name of the place was Orchid hotel.
After check-in I wanted to eat like a local. At the corner was a restaurant and the owner waved me in. Well, so I ended up eating pizza in Isfahan as my capacity to say no seemed spent for that day. At least I can say, I ate like a local and the pizza reminded me not too much at those I know from Austria.
After that I (as always after salty or spicy food) “needed” something sweet and walked along the street. In a bakery or something like confectionery, I found something covered with chocolate. Good! I ate the whole package empty although the second half only because of greed and that good taste of choux pastry covered with sufficient chocolate.
I had a good rest despite of it!
the previous record was Tehran-Qom, easier and shorter, but encouraging for more. (Now it is enough – is it?)