Still in Samarkand - after a lovely long lunch.............................

Just catching up again after lunch.   I realise that I hardly ever, if at all, mention the FOOD yet friends who know me will understand that the food I experience is very much part of this trip.  So a brief description of today's lunch.  The Russian influence on the former Soviet countries has certainly formed certain trends in the food.  Ashbeghat had an enormous Russian Market in the city centre.   There were vegetable stores selling the most wonderful array of fresh fruit and vegetables.  Stands with the most lavishly and extravagantly decorated cakes I have ever seen.  I did not try any because I felt sure that if they looked as wonderful and excessive as they did that the taste could only be a disappointment!  Stores with all sorts of Russian delicacies such as caviar and salmon caviar (I will just have to pop to Waitrose on return!), cold meats and cheeses.  The meat stalls were best avoided with sheeps heads in the window already for boiling into some sort of stew - though it did look as if the eyes had been removed.  Also cows trotters.  We did buy some mince for our truck supper but we made sure that the butcher minced there and then!  However the butcher asked if we wanted it minced once or twice - and when we cooked it it was delicious.  All around the edge of the market were little cafes selling Russian foods.  So back to today's lunch - a range of salads - followed by roast chicken and pots of chay - green tea which everyone serves here.  By the time I get back it will be like I have been at a health spa for a few weeks with the amount of green tea I have drunk.  That was a fairly ordinary sort of meal.  Yesterday a group of us went to an Italian restaurant where I had the least Italian meal I have ever had in my life!  My starter was called "Bird Nest" an halved hard boiled egg yolk on the chopped egg white which was on top of a "Russian salad" of gerkins, boiled potatoes and pickled herring.  All of this was on a "bed of lettuce leaves" and surrounded by fried noodles!  The next dish was pork in sauce - yes pork in a Muslim country - however I did not see any evidence of pork in the Russian Market in Ashbeghat.  Somewhere just before we crossed over into Uzbeksistan we stopped in a town at lunch time and had a look round the "bazaar".  I found the most delicous dumpling stuffed with vegetables and salads.  I have never had anything like that - it was a dream.  The dumpling was soft but with a bouncy texture and when it came to choosng the filling I had a Harry met Sally "I'll have what she's having" moment (but with not quite the same build-up!!!).  I watched the store holder filling one of these dumplings for somebody else saw how much she paid (some insignificant sum) then made my choice all through hand gesture even to having a tiny bit of the hot chilli on top.  The fact that I had an "oh shit" moment immediately after because I left the market at the back gate rather than the front one and had a little bit of difficulty reuniting myself with Archie was more than made up for the moment I sank my teeth into that dumpling!!!!!
The food we have on the truck is delicious.  We have been separated into "cook groups" and we each take it in turn to cook meals.  For my last cook group we did breakfast.  We had a lovely lunch on the way here when we stopped at a sacred spring at Nurata.  The spring water was a lovely blue-green colour and full of rather large "sacred trout".  People take the well water home for sick relatives if they cannot get there to drink it themselves.  It was said that Mohammed's brother put his staff into the rocks and the spring burst out but given the fact that it has a reputation as a healing spring and the amount of "cloutie" trees there are going up to Alexander's Fort above the town I would suggest that it has been a sacred spring for a great deal longer than that. 


A bit more about the yurt homestay- run by the very enterprising Russians.  We met a party of French people from Lyon while we were there and I had quite a good chat to them.  They were in Uzbeksistan for 10 days doing a whistle stop tour of the main sites.  The morning after our rather rowdy night - it was Anzac day the day we arrived so there was a little celebration for the Aussies and New Zealanders in the evening when the vodka came around the table.  It ended with all of us singing our national anthems so I went over the French party and asked if they would sing the Marseillaise for us which they very obligingly did!  Then after that we had a truly magic performance of Uzbek classical music from a traditional singer/player on the dutour - a 2 stringed sort of lute/guitar round a campfire.  The next day we went to a lake - the largest man-made lake in Central Asia - Lake Aidarkul - where, those who wanted were able to swim (1st swim since a week or so before leaving the UK).  A lovely swim it was too, not too deep, not too cold and not too cloudy either.  After the swim the enterprising Russians brought us lunch which we shared with the Lyonnais as they came to have a look at the lake too.  We had a range of salads, probably what we did not eat the previous evening but delicious all the same and cold boiled potatoes with cold fried fish which had been caught in the lake the previous day.  Wonderful! 
We met up with the French party again yesterday in one of the museums and who knows we may yet coincide again in Tashkent.

Bukhara and the "lengendary Samarkand".....................

Bukhara continued - Bukhara is full of puppets and storytelling.  I met a puppet maker called ZoZo (though he was not a puppteer) and we had a long talk about puppet making and he showed me how he makes his puppets.  He kept talking about "my master" then Iskandar "the master" appeared and interestingly he was not a puppeteer either but a puppet maker.  He has some of his puppets in both the Museum of Childhood, Bethnal Green, and the Horniman Museum so when I am back I feel a little trip to London coming on.  Later that evening I went to the Puppet Theatre of Bukhara to see a very lively performance telling of a village wedding with the two fathers not agreeing the bride price.  The bride's mother bossing everyone around and the bridegroom only appeared at the very end.  The part of the bride was part puppet and part young woman (who was also a puppeteer).  In the middle of the story all the puppeteers came to the front and gave a lively performance of a traditional wedding with lots of singing and dancing.  At one point it was quite sad as all her friends completely took over the wedding presents and started trying the jewellery on, wearing the scarves and generally excluding the bride altogether.  This was a sort of little tragedy as the bride was sad that she was leaving her friends and all they were doing was admiring her presents.  However all was made up and they all sang a song about how sad they were that she would not be with them anymore.  After that the young women went behind the screen again and they became puppeteers and completed the show.  They work really hard as when I spoke to one of them afterwards (the daughter of the puppeteer who had trained them) she goes to college in the morning, then works in the afternoon and in the evening she does the puppet shows. 

Zozo - the puppet maker

The moulds for the puppets

And the puppets he makes!

In the middle of Bukhara you will find a large pool surrounded by restaurants and mulberry trees, this is a great place to eat - either sitting on a traditional daybed type table or more conventional tables and chairs.  Set slightly back from the pool up some steps is a treelined square and there is a statue of the Hodja Nasrudeen on his donkey!  

The "Hodja" on his donkey

Then we were on the road again and this time it was to an "Overnight homestay in yurts in the Kyzylkum Desert with Uzbek families".  Actually it was not quite this as I checked with my guide because everyone seemed to be speaking Russian but a very enterprising Russian who has an "yurt village" where people can stay.  That was magic and the camel ride was not to bad either though rather alarming when the camel sat down when I was totally unprepared for that! 

The Yurt Camp in the Desert



The yurt camp



Waiting for the caravan!



A look of disdain!



A desert sunset



A few moments later .........



A few hours later!



The morning after the night before - a rather quiet breakfast!



A view over the desert

Packing up, leaving camp and ........



on the road to Samarkhand..........

Samarkand - Yesterday (which I think was Tuesday) was a tour round the sights of Samarkand - and what sights.  The Registan Sqare which has maddressas on 3 sides - all of them beautifully restored and decorated with tiles the whole way round the exterior walls as well as the insides.  Last night a small group of us went to a local production of a "wedding story" (not disimilar to the puppets) done with fantastic energy by a group of performers.  I got some great photos from this.  But when it comes to the buildings the highlight for me was the Mausoleum of Amu Timur (or Tamberlane).  Quite simple from the outside but inside richly decorated with gold.  His tomb is surrounded by other Timurs including Uleg Beg (the astronomer who was murdered by his son who did not approve of his astromical research).  Timur's tomb is plain black stone, very simple but to oneside and high on a pole is a horse tail the sign of his people or clan.  The atmosphere was very intense but at the same time very quiet and truly awesome. 

Next off to Taskent so there will be more to write from there.

IMPRESSIONS:

• Steppe at last - very flat covered with low bushes and grass tufts - grey with patches of bright green.
• Stopped at a Caravanserai - the water supply a domed building on the other side of the road. The trading dome an octagonal raised platform and the supporting arches just low plinths to mark where they were.  All those lives, stories, trading, merchants, goods, luxury and bartering that went on there.
• Yurt stay- lovely dawn with a few pink clouds in the sky.
• Listening to overnight rain in Samarkand pattering down.

Khiva and Bukhara...........................

While in Khiva coming round a corner on to the main square I was confronted by a group of men wearing Uzbek coats, fur lined metal helmets with swords, spears and shields.  For a moment I thought that I had done a time warp.  I know that Khiva is a UN world heritage site but surely this was taking it too far!  Then the penny dropped - we were not in an Uzbek timewarp but there was a film crew and actors.  The giveaway was one of the "soldiers" with a script trying to get his lines and being distracted by a group of tourists!  A chat to the extras who assured me that they were "actors" revealed that the film was about Omar Khayyam, who spent time in Bukhara - but Khiva makes a better filmset.  But to begin with it was one of those little surreal moments that seem to be part of this journey.  The director and the director's assisstant, however, were not pleased with this disctraction and kept trying to chivvy the actors along but they were more than happy for the distraction and wanted to pose for photos with the "tourists".  A bit later I was catching up with the group and came across a "guard" slouching along with his spear dragging on the ground.  I promptly went into "I surrender" and he sharply drew up and went "on guard" this was followed by laughs and a wave and he went back to being a soldier. 

Another long trek across the desert in Archie.  The roads are rather poor and we go slowly but the advantage of this is being able to see the landscape.  I found the desert surprisingly green.  In fact is is all shades of green at the moment as there has been some rain.  Also some interesting plants - don't know the names.  At one of our lunch stops we saw a group of men on the other side of road with a breakdown.  Their engine had burst - the only way to describe it - the whole engine appeared to be by the side of the road.  I realised this when I saw one of them waving a head gasket - at that point I thought "this is serious".  They appeared to be quite unfazed by the whole thing and were patiently putting it back together.  Though they were happy when we offered them some sealant along with water and food. 

Bukhara......................

To be continued but it did involve a puppet performance.  

The display board for the Bukhara Puppet Theatre



The "folk" opera performance

 
 

In full swing



 

 

                    A tiny little bit of the "folk" opera

 

Iran, Turkmenistan & Uzbekistan...............................

The valley of the fish farms ........

Our fish supper  fished ............



...... and gutted



Fish tanks

 It is a week since Iran and so much has happened.  I have not been abe to log in, explain later on in this entry.  Leaving Tehran was fairly easy and we went through some stunningly beautiful scenery in the Golestan National Park.  After the flat, dusty desert the trees, water, greenery was such a change.  Interestingly we all thought that the scenery reminded us of somewhere from earer to our respective homes.  For me it was the Ardennes and interestingly enough there were masses of vinyards (only producing vinagre or eating grapes, of course!) 


The landscape so reminicent of France complete with the"ghost" of a Drago traveller!



Don't tell me that some of this doesn't end up
in a wine bottle not a vinaigre bottle!



My first view ever of a dormant volcano, Mount Damavand ................



.... with that tantalising, teasing little waft of smoke - when next?



Ah! .... the places of romance and the places of history .....

the Caspian Sea

Iran does not import all the rice that is eaten there ........

 

... rice paddies under an uncertain sky.

We had a photostop to take pix of Iran's volcano (sorry forgotten the name!) but fortunately  dormant at the moment that we passed it!  Then down a valley where I think every single trout farm in Iran was situated - so we had the most delicious meal of fresh trout that evening in our car-park campsite.  We parked up in a carpark in the middle of a town, having tried the regional Governor's place on the outskirts of town, but he said no!  The local Mosque provided our "facilities".  The tarmac was a bit hard but nobody bothered us apart from the usual interest.  Next morning we headed off towards the border.  We hotelled it that night and when we got to our hotel there was a wedding in full go.  After a long wait we crossed the border and entered Turkmenistan and headed down to Ashbaghat.

TURKMENISTAN.........

A surreal city of white marble rising from the moutains on one side and the desert on the other.  After Iran the lack of litter was almost in your face.  In the morning, and at other times of the day there were groups of women, usually "supervised" by a man sweeping the streets with brooms.  So that is how the streets came to be so clean! The previous President of Turkmenistan called himself "Turkmenbashi" or leader of the Turkmen people.  He was very keen on white marble and arranged for a tremendous monument of himself to be built out of white marble topped by a huge golden statue which turns so that his outstretched arms always follow the course of the sun.  This is truly amazing and indicates a man who had supreme confidence in himself!  After Iran it seemed very quiet, nobody approached us in the street to talk and everything seemed very well ordered. 



The surreal, white marble city



.... of Ashbeghat



... a dictator's dream rising from the ashes and dust .......



.... of a devastating earthquake.



But kept so clean [Turkmenbashi, the former dictator,on the right]



... because teams of women sweep the streets with house brushes.....



but fortunately did not sweep this little person away.



Ah yes, they do a good line in cakes too!

So going to the Sunday market was a compete contrast to the city.  There everything bustled in the huge market place where it seemed that anything could be bought or sold.  The animal market was an eye opener - to see a camel being craned into the back of a lorry so only its head stuck out over the sides or a calf being put into the backseat of a car.

Ashbaghat Sunday Market where all good containers go to die.

How to get a camel in the back of a lorry in 5 easy steps ........

.......... not for the faint hearted but at the same time ...........

... these animals are somebody's livelihood and ............

.... and are a capital investment

 

.... and from what I saw looked ........



..... healthy and well cared for ............

..... even if the market appeared a bit chaotic.



A last view of the market before heading out to the desert.

 After this more desert but for me it was much more how I imagined desert to be - sand dunes disappearing into the distance, yet surprisingly green.  When we took our "pee breaks" we were told to check for scorpions (more of this later) and snakes before squatting!   There was a campsite in a desert truckstop which sadly was going to be closed in 4 days time (there had been several of these on the way - small, empty houses by te side of the road with holes knocked in the walls.  The governement apears to discourage this sort of enterprise.  This one despite the imminent closure was very welcoming and also offered sleeping accomodation to those that wanted.  Then the most amazing thing happened - during the drive we had stoped at a couple of natural gas craters where there had been drilling.  One filled with water and the other with bubbling mud as the gas made its way to the surface.  But the 3rd one (at Darvaza) we were to see was way off ther road along a desert track  Our guide flagged down a passing truck (ex Russian army 6 wheel drive) and after the nogociation of a small fee the drivers said they would take us.  Actually they were on their way home to beyond Ashbaghat but the small fee persuaded them to do it - also despite being Turkmeni lorry drivers they did not know of the crater's existence.  As it got dark and with the help of a step ladder we all piled into this huge truck (standing room only) and made our way down the road.  When the 2 Queensland ladies got into the truck they did the most fantastic "camel in a truck" impersonation replicating to the last bray exactly what we had seen that morning at the animal market - even down to the heads sticking up over the sides of the lorry!  It was an awesome performance - fortunately captured on video.  At this point the guys driving us there may well have had doubt about the whole outing- and possibly wondered if they should be taking us to see a natural gas crater or  to Turkmenistan's psychiatric hospital!!!  As we cruised through the desert along the an track we were in a queue of lorries going to work at another gas well.  One of the lorries in front got bogged down in the sand and the next thing we were flying off the track and across sand as if we were on a motorway - it was absolutely thrilling to be riding  sand dunes and I was so sorry that the lorry unbogged itself and we rejoined the track.  Then the crater - oh..... what a sight.  A huge crater in the middle of the desert aboiut 40 feet deep - on fire.  It has been on fire for over 40 years following a drilling accident in Soviet times and drilling operation went wrong and the well collapsed, caught fire and has burned ever since.  As I am not having much luck with downloading photos, despite having bought extra space I will load all these photos when I get back hopefully by the end of July so that you can see what I am on about.  But this certainly has been a unique experience and a memory I shall treasure and I think I found the ride to the crater as exciting, if not more so, than seeing the crater itself and that was exciting enough.  Oh... what a day that was.  Our final day in Turkmenistan was very "cultural" as we went to the site of Konye Urgench - a superb mausoleum and also the tallest minaret/building in Central Asia at 63metres (and 20 shorter than when it was built a long time ago - check the internet or a guide book for exact details- mine are on Archie at the moment) until Turkmenbashi built his enormous statue.   That night we found a campsite by the side of the road - our guide certainly earned his money as he delath with the police, a farmer and an immigration officer just so that we did not have to move on - unlike Iran where camping appears to be the norm (we were not the only tents in that car park) despite having nomadic/semi nomadic populations the country is not a camping country at all - or at least not for foreigners.  So this leads to the scorpion story -  I went off to have a pee and did the usual scorpion/snake check and was satisfied that all was safe - started to do the business only to notice something moving - on closer inspection I saw a small but angry scorpion trying to run away from a stream of piss!!!  I would have been angry too, I think.  I finished the operation moving up the bank as I did and legged it out before the angry scorpion had time to realise who or what had caused its distress!  Or maybe I drowned it - I did not hang around long enough to check! 

UZBEKISTAN......................

Over the border yesterday (20th April) where I made a very serious border guard laugh- yes it is possible - He had been really po-faced with everybody and when it was my turn I said "salamaleikum" as recommended in my phrase book and got a "salam" grunt back again.  He looked at the pasport - glared at me until I took my specs off - then proceeded to look at my passport - visas/stamps etc. until he came across my Iran visa which contains the most horrendous photo of me with hair completely covered by a black headscarf looking extemely severe (I was really pissed off when the photo was taken because black is not my colour and I do not look my best with hair completely covered - in fact I described myself as looking like a "middle eastern dominatrix").  So the guard looked at the photo - then back at me - then at the photo again and looked at me with a realy quizzical expression and at this point I snorted and he started to laugh and I guffawed and then I got a really lovely "goodbye" in return for my "rehmat" (thank you) and another big grin!  The guard after that was an Arsenal supporter and very disapppointed that I did not have a favourite team!  He said next time I come back to bring a shirt!  So Uzbekistan - here I came.

Today has been spent in Khiva - truly wonderful and I can see why a world heritage site.  A walled city full of musuems, hareems, palaces with beautifully decorated ceilings - more photos of this in uly.  We went on a walking tour around the city and I have been just overwhelmed by the decorations, beautiful buildings and things I have seen.  Tomorow we make our way to Bukhara and more culture.  So hopefully a bit more of this later. 

• Lorry laden with wood slowly crawling  the hill.
• Hairpin bends snake through the mountains.
• Sulpherous smoking volcan white against a blue, blue sky.
• Rough rocky peaks like a cheese grater.
• Strands of cloud rising from the morning trees.
• A frog leaping through a rice field.
• Lunch by the Caspian Sea under grey cloud.
• Poppies in the fields in April! 
• Turkmen girls in bright red skirts
• Real border country- harsh and forbidding.
• Climbing up to the border.
• Border ridge 2000+ metres high.
• Crossed the border (Iran/Turkmenistan)
• Small fox by the side of the road.
• Ashbaghat - is unreal -surealist - empty white marble skyscrapers.
• Clean white streets
• Camels walking stately across the desert.
• Ripples on the sand dunes
• Wind whistling, whipping up the desert.
• Green fields.- irrigation systems.
• A donkey cart plodding along themain road
• A surprised hnting hawk dropped its prey
• Crossed the Oxus - Syr Darya - now I feel that I am truly on a journey.

Still in Tehran.......

Another amazing experience today.  Everybody else dispersed to go to various museums, palaces etc.  So I headed out on my own with 2 slips of paper with the addresses of the places where I wanted to go.  When I finally got to approximately the place I was heading for (Museum of Glass and China) I encountered a large group of women.  I showed some postcards that I wanted to post and I had been directed to a post office nearby.  They were so kind and helpful but said there was not a postbox near.  However they invited me to join them and they paid for my ticket into another museum - so now I will have to come back for the glass and china!  I started to go round with them but their guide arranged for me to have an English speaking guide.  I was so humbled yet again by the kindness and generosity that I experienced.  The guide was lovely and took me round explaining everything in detail.  At the moment the museum was only displaying a small amount of the collection as it is in the process of renovation.  However another reason to come back!

After this I went to the collection of the royal jewels (the National Jewels Museum).  Oh, oh, oh................. a collection of BLING par excellence.  One of the most significant in the world.  Take the Crown Jewels then multiply them by 100!  The glitter, the diamonds, the emeralds, the rubies and that is just in one small item.  I was in heaven.  And guess what- there was a pink silk parasol that had diamonds down the spokes, the handle and the bit at the top were diamond encrusted too.  I could imagine myself with that!  I think the late Shah might have been a tad disappointed that he was not able to leave the country with the contents of the vault.  Though I must say that I did have a little snigger because there have been a war or two over this collection but the most significant piece in the whole collection was the Koh-e-Nur - and we know where that is and not even in it's original glory!

A few more days in Iran - then crossing the border to Turkmenistan - so you may well hear from me in Ashbagat.  Best wishes to all.

Some impressions of our journey from Yadz:

• Endless flat stretching away into to a heat haze - grey, buff and khaki.
• Sometimes half-seen hills rise out of the haze.
• Seen in Yadz - a cobbler mending some trainers by the side of a street.
• Brick kilns by the side of the road.
• Watering the trees on the central reservation from a water container lorry.
• Dust, dust and more dust.
• Folds of pink and green striated rocks pointing down to the road like cat's paws.

Tehran............

Arrived a few hours ago after driving over desert and desert and yet more desert.  But am writing this to say that I completely forgot about the Towers of Silence in Yadz.  Iran's biggest Zoarastrian community live in Yadz and just on the edge of the town are two Towers of Silence built up on hillsides. Squat round towers covering the whole of the top of the hills on which they are situated.  These are the towers where the Zoarastrians used to place their dead so that the bodies could be eaten by vultures.  They have not been used as such for quite a long time but climbing up to one of the towers was an awesome experience.  Thinking about how they were used and the many people who had died and used that method of body disposal so as not to pollute either the earth by burial or the sky by cremation.   I was lucky enough to spend quite a long time up there on my own as everybody else opted to climb the higher of the 2 towers whereas I went up the further but neither so steep or so high one.  It certainly was a moment for quiet reflection.

Shiraz (of the grapes - the vinyards now only produce grapes for eating or vinagre) - stayed in a very interesting hotel.  It was a former traditional home for a very wealthy family - we met several lots of architectural students who come to look at it.  The rooms were all around a courtyard with a central pool and a garden on either side of the pool with roses and other plants.  The steps up to all the rooms were very steep.  This appears to be a feature of this part of the world.  I call them "bloody Ottoman steps" as I first came across them in Turkey.   I have visions of all these middle ages Turks, Persians, etc. all having severe arthritis of the knees because they are so steep!  I saw a couple of museums in Shiraz and spent time looking around the Bazaar.  This is how I had a pen bought for me as a gift by a very kind woman in a gift shop in the Bazaar.  I would never have found the shop selling fountain pens so she took me there and bought me the pen as a present.  Through her I also met a potter who explained something about the beautiful colours of the tiles on the Mosques.  I had been confused as I had been told that the colours were vegetable but the potter confirmed that in fact they are earth or mineral pigments as one would expect.

Esfahan -  seems so long ago now - but a city of culture and craft and the most beautiful mosque I have seen to date. 
PS. Archie is now working like a dream as s/he had a complete overhaul in Esfahan!

Yazd - Iran..........

The 2 weeks in Iran are now half way through.  After Shiraz - where I had the most wonderful experience of buying a pen (fountain) and ended up with the pen being bought for me. A couple of nights ago I told a silk road story in a Caravanserai - it was magic.  We were sort of camping there.  The Caravanserai had only recently opened up and they let us stay there camping of the daybeds and in the alcoves just like the traders and merchants would have done.  And opposite the one where we stayed there was a mud brick built one which was 900 years old.  The next day (which I think was Friday but it could have been Saturday ( I am seriously losing count of the days) we looked at an ancient citadel in the village where we had stayed.  That too was in the process of renovation - it had been a moated, four towered square building 3 storeys high, again all the bricks made of mud.  At present it is just 2 storeys high but will over time be restored to it's former glory. Then on to see a 4000 year old cypress tree which also doubles up as a "cloutie tree" where we had lunch much to the amusement of other people visiting the tree.  When we stop for lunch we bring out tables to prepare the food, a table for washing up, the food, cutlery, crockery and anything else needed and prepare our meal in the open!  This causes much curiosity from anyone who is in the vicinity and we quite often get people coming over to look and see what we are eating.  We also do the same for the evening meal and that means getting the gas stoves out as well and cooking up a stew or similar.  So we cause some consternation and interest where ever we go.

Then the arrival at Yazd - a city surrounded by desert (sorry my spelling has gone at the moment so I mean sand not food) and the thing about Yazd it its relationship to the desert.  There is an underground water supply to the city, which is remarkable green, that the people use.  The "qanats" or canals are dug underground for up to 60 kilometres away in the foothills of the surrounding mountains and supply villages and the city.  There are a couple of reservoirs for water in the old part of the city surrounded by tall towers, which one sees allover the city which have a name but as I have forgotten my Lonely Planet I cannot remember the name of, however these towers are a sort of air con system as they channel cool air down into the buildings and the hot air rises out. 

The Towers of Silence

The Towers dominating part of the city ...............

the corpse road up to the Tower clearly marked .............



.... and seeing the figures you can get an idea of the size of them.



The city of Yazd seen from the towers.

A couple of wonderful experiences today showing the kindness and generosity of the Iranians we meet.  First was when I and two others went out for a walk in the old city - We went to the nearby mosque (tallest minarets in Iran but covered in scaffolding) and saw that there was a museum.  We asked if we could see it then realised that we were in the middle of a Madressi (Koranic school) but we were gestured through.  I asked if there was anything to pay but again we were gestured through.  The curator then unlocked the museum for us and then with my Parsi phrase book and a great deal of sign language we were given a tour of the museum and by the end understood all the artefacts that we were seeing.

The next was even more awesome.  We were admiring a door in the old town when a ?tourist/local (we never did work out which) explained about the 2 door knockers.  If you knock one then a man will answer and the other a woman.  He knocked both very loudly then left.  The door was answered by a woman who seemed surprised to see us but instantly inivited us 2 women in for "chai" (my companions husband was out of sight).  We met her and her 4 year old son who later invited my companion's husband in to join us.  We found out so much about her and surmised more about her life.  Despite living in a rather grand courtyarded house we realised that she was by no means wealthy and was in some distress because her husband was ill - we assumed in hospital - yet despite this she invited us in for "chai' and the degree of hospitality was incredible.  Again the Parsi phrase book and the sign language came out but the real clincher was my companion's digital photograph key ring loaded with pictures of their daughters and grandchildren.  I came away feeling very humbled by the whole experience.


And this is the door!

I know I have left out Esfahan and Shiraz but there just seems to be so much to say and I only get to an internet cafe very irregularly.  But heigh ho that's the way it is.

Impressions from notebook:

• Hills like jagged teeth in need of dental repair.
• Huge willow trees by a stream
• Quite often see dead dogs by the roadside.
• Hostile jagged mountains reaching up to bite the sky.
• Bright turquoise mosque in blue sky
• Undulating sand peppered with tufts of grass and spinnifex.
• Red purple hills breaking up the flatness.
• Coup in Kyrgyzstan - may not be going there - disappointed - all this way then not to see the place I wanted to go to.

 Photos of places and things seen in Yazd

I walked past this to get to the other hostel where we ate.........

..... part of an arch surround in a mosque



and something just so beautiful.

And in a museum I found .............



... a set of chests lined with beautiful decorated papers ............

.... so there was another "transport of delight" moment
given my interest in decorated papers

And Suzie was up to her usual tricks being part of the exhibits!

.... suddenly a lion appeared in the arch at the top of the building!