Shiraz in Shiraz

[Skyring]

Takeoff for Adventure

[h=1]Flight 1702: Takeoff for Adventure[/h]
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[FONT=&amp]Dubai
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]UAE
19 Apr 2017
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Flight 1702[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]SYD-DBX[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]EK 415 A388[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Scheduled: 0600[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Boarding: 0530 Gate 57 Seats 3E/F[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pushback: 0552[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Takeoff: 0613 to South[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Landing: 1405[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Gate: 1408
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Takeoff for Adventure[/FONT][/h]
[FONT=&amp]The start of a flight, I have my little routines. All the times I fly, you’d think that like so many passengers, I’d go to sleep, or bury myself in a book, but no. [/FONT][FONT=&amp]I like to keep a handle on things. Very much the nerd, me.
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[FONT=&amp]I have a Moleskine notebook – the pocket size – to record the details. Date, times, events, seats, to and from. That sort of thing. I now have a record stretching back over a decade, but writing this stuff down soothes my racing mind.
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Safety is important. I’ll read the card in the seat pocket – except this[/FONT] [FONT=&amp]time,[/FONT] [FONT=&amp]when it took me a while to find out where the seat pocket was actually located – and I’ll watch the safety video and follow whatever the attendants do.
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[FONT=&amp]Air travel might be the safest form of transport, but I’m haunted by videos of airliners cartwheeling down runways, and if I can improve my chances, then why not?
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[FONT=&amp]I keep my shoes on. If I have to evacuate and run across wet, jagged, burning, dirty ground to get to safety, then I’d rather not do it in my socks, and I might not have time to find my shoes and lace them up in proper bows.
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[FONT=&amp]I check out the exits. Apart from the Boeing 747, every passenger on every airliner has a choice of four, two ahead, two behind;[/FONT] [FONT=&amp]two[/FONT] [FONT=&amp]one side, two the other. I want to know the best direction to run and avoid the other panicked passengers.
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[FONT=&amp]The lifejacket. Usually under the seat, but sometimes not. I locate the handle, so I know. The cabin might be dark, or full of smoke. I give it a little tug.
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[FONT=&amp]The seatbelt, done up low and tight. I give it a tug as well, making sure I’m secure, but still able to breathe. If we stop suddenly, I don’t want to have a webbing strap cut me into two neat pieces.
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[FONT=&amp]Not for me, you understand. I glance over at my wife. She’s only a tiny thing. I can sling her over my shoulder and be on the far side of the runway before the third “Brace” hits the air.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]The window view[/FONT][/h]
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We have side-by-side seats in the middle of the plane, but for once, the cabin isn’t full of other people. I can sit wherever I want.
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[FONT=&amp]I move over to an empty window seat. Emirates First seats have three windows apiece, and I can point my camera out of them all.
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[FONT=&amp]We pass the Qantas end of the terminal, dominated by a red-tailed A380 and the familiar windows of the Qantas First lounge perched on the roof.
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[FONT=&amp]My favourite place for planespotting, watching the birds come and go through those huge windows, a glass of bubbly before me, the towers of Sydney in the distance.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Ready to roll[/FONT][/h]
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We wait at the threshold to the main runway. 0600 and curfew lifts. Our pilot wants to leave on the stroke of six, just as a whole bunch of long-haul flights want to land at the same time. As it happens, we have to wait, and I watch plane after plane on the tail cam view.
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[FONT=&amp]There are three cameras available. One high on the tailfin, one under the fuselage looking ahead – good for anybody keen on watching the plane take off and the undercarriage retract, which is usually me – and the third looking straight down. A splendid view in the air, on the ground not so much.
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[FONT=&amp]I’ve got three cups of coffee aboard. Hope this show gets on the road smartish. I send “hurry-up” thoughts in the direction of the control tower.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Airborne[/FONT][/h]

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When we finally wheel onto the runway and the captain plants his boot – or whatever he does to make the thing go – I’m recording the action. I’m not much of a movie-maker, so you’ll just have to trust me that the big plane leaps into the air like a block of flats taking flight, we turn right, point the nose towards Dubai, and the sun rises about the clouds as I contemplate the fourteen hours of Dom Perignon ahead.
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[FONT=&amp]And fifteen days of Iran. I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months, wanting to return to that beautiful land and its friendly inhabitants. This will be a long day, but at the end of it, I’ll be in Tehran.
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[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
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[Skyring]

Flight 1703: The Goodies

[h=1]Flight 1702: The Goodies[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
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[FONT=&amp]Dubai
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]UAE
19 Apr 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Flight 1702[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]SYD-DXB[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]EK 415 A388[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Scheduled: 0600[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Boarding: 0530 Gate 57 Seats 2E/F[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pushback: 0552[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Takeoff: 0613 to South[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Landing: 1405[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Gate: 1408[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Enjoying the goodies
[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]There are three reasons for shelling out the extra money – or in my case, the points – for a seat in a premium cabin:
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The head guy discusses breakfast options with my wife, who is just lapping this up.
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[/FONT][FONT=&amp]The space.[/FONT][FONT=&amp] You can stretch out flat and get some serious sleep. You don’t have to climb over others to get to the toilet. You aren’t continually cramped and jostled and woken. Arriving (relatively) fresh and able to work is a huge bonus.
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[FONT=&amp]The status. If something goes wrong, like a cancellation and a delay, the airline people will look after you ahead of the great mass in the Economy cabin. You get more luggage, you are assured of room in the overhead lockers. They may even delay the flight if you are running late.
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[FONT=&amp]The goodies. Paying an extra thousand bucks to get a better meal is insane. But you do get better food and drink, a comfier seat, a bigger entertainment screen, access to a lounge, nice big noise-cancelling headphones and so on.
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[FONT=&amp]A rationalist like my wife wouldn’t spend the extra money on fripperies ahead of paying off the mortgage or whatever. Think of it as a hobby. People spend fortunes on old cars or Persian carpets or whatever. I choose to travel as a hobby. So there.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Drinking my breakfast[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Once airborne from Sydney with the seatbelt sign off, I visited the bathroom – more on that later – and it was time for breakfast. We’d missed out on anything much to eat since our flight the previous day, and we were keenly interested in what the chef had to say. He handed out menus, and yes, I took photographs, but I won’t waste space here. They can be seen online.
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[FONT=&amp]My main interest was in the champagne. Dom Perignon 2006, which was very nice, and I had a refill during breakfast. They would have cheerfully kept topping up my glass all flight long, but I would have needed a wheelchair at the far end.
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[FONT=&amp]A plate of fruit to begin, followed by a real breakfast. There may have been more coffee involved.
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The tray table slides out from one side of the suite and is huge. There’s a lot to fit on it, all beautifully arranged. The seat can be moved forward so it isn’t a stretch.
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[FONT=&amp]I had scrambled eggs with lyonnaise potatoes, sautéed spinach, mushrooms and grilled tomato. Oh, and Dom Perignon. Pretty much my idea of the perfect brekky. Spinach aside.
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[FONT=&amp]There was a glass of water as well, but I won’t touch water on a plane unless I see it come out of a sealed bottle. The bubbly is far healthier!
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]The goody bag[/FONT][/h]
[FONT=&amp]Emirates gives First passengers a bag to put all the [/FONT][FONT=&amp]gifties[/FONT][FONT=&amp] into.
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[FONT=&amp]Pyjamas in a soft grey material, which are supposed to contain a moisturising element. I replaced my shirt with the top but kept my plastic trousers on. They weren’t going to wrinkle up. Extra-long sleeves aside, the pyjama top was comfortable enough.
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[FONT=&amp]I likewise left the grey slippers in their wrapping. For long-haul flights, I wear compression socks, and I was quite comfortable walking around the cabin in them.
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An eyemask, but again, I let it be. When it came time to sleep, the cabin was darkened, my suite doors were closed, and I was tired enough to zonk off without delay.
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[FONT=&amp]The amenity bag was worth a rummage. Grey leather of a decent size, it was full of Bulgari kit. Toothbrush and toothpaste, razor, shaving foam, aftershave, body lotion, eau de toilette, antiperspirant, tissues, folding comb/hairbrush, and a refresher towel.

[/FONT][FONT=&amp]I travel with my own kit packed in a long-obsolete Qantas first bag, so I wasn’t really interested in this stuff, but I moved the lip balm over. The dry air of aircraft – and later, of Iran – plays havoc with my face, and I wanted all the help I could get.
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[FONT=&amp]Still, I kept the amenity bag. These things make great gifts, or at a pinch can be sold on eBay.
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[FONT=&amp]There was also a “wellness” kit from Temple Spa: three more lotions, and a pair of aromatherapy “sniff boxes” labelled “Sleep” and “Focus”.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Lunch[/FONT][/h]
[FONT=&amp]For a fourteen hour flight spanning a quarter of the globe, meals are arbitrary labels. We took off at six AM, certainly breakfast time in Sydney, but an hour from landing in Dubai, is it seven at night or one in the afternoon?
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[FONT=&amp]Whatever, I began my second meal somewhere over India with caviar. This is something of a touchstone for First across various airlines, and Emirates turns out to have one of the best offerings. I got wild Iranian caviar – top marks right there! – served with blini, chopped piles of egg white, egg yolk, onion, and crème fraîche. Vodka was offered but I asked for a wee dram – indicating with my fingers – of the Glenfiddich 21YO Scotch.
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[FONT=&amp]They brought me a tumbler half full of the stuff and asked if I wanted ice. I shuddered no, thanks. Good single malt Scotch is best drunk warm to let the flavours out, and maybe a few drops of water to help. I’m not a huge drinker, and there was enough in the glass to have me dancing a jig when poured off the plane. I sipped what I could over the final hour or so, but couldn’t do full justice to the very generous serve. It was, however, a very smooth drop.
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[FONT=&amp]There was also a very yummy poached salmon dish, which I enjoyed immensely.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]The goodies. Worth it?[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]Short answer, no. If I’d been paying full price for my ticket, there’s no way a few sample packs of cosmetics, some pyjamas, and a couple of good restaurant meals would have filled the gap between the Economy price. Or even Business.
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[FONT=&amp]But these things are expected for First. The type of regular passenger who can afford these seats demands a luxury experience with every need catered for. For someone like me, unloading a pile of frequent flyer points, the goodies were the icing on the cake.
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[FONT=&amp]For me, the room to stretch out, the privacy, the comfort, all made for a very pleasant experience. That’s worth a lot over being wedged in Economy and deprived of sleep for fourteen hours.
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[FONT=&amp]Or if you want to treat your partner for a special occasion, a First ticket is a gift of love, an experience to round out the occasion. I was certainly getting no complaints from my wife snuggled up in the suite beside me, savouring her caviar and flirting with the purser.
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[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
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[Bindibuys]

Re: Flight 1703: The Goodies

RooFlyer: "Excellent. Your last TR on Iran inspired me to go myself. JohnM and I are taking a tour there in November, so this will be another primer."

We are going to have to start calling JohnM "RUST" he will get into anyone's car.

 

[RooFlyer]

Re: Flight 1703: The Goodies

No, no! "Tis I who have joined JohnM's arrangements, both times .

Thoroughly enjoying the TR; unfortunately I'll be slumming it in QR J on my trip to Iran later this year.

 

[Skyring]

Re: Flight 1703: The Goodies

No, no! "Tis I who have joined JohnM's arrangements, both times .

Thoroughly enjoying the TR; unfortunately I'll be slumming it in QR J on my trip to Iran later this year.

Most kind!

After experiencing the showers in EK F, we took to calling the J pax "the great unwashed".

From what I hear, QR J is pretty good.

 

[Skyring]

The great unwashed

[h=1]Flight 1702: The great unwashed[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
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[FONT=&amp]
Dubai
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]UAE
19 Apr 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Flight 1702[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]SYD-DXB[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]EK 415 A388[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Scheduled: 0600[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Boarding: 0530 Gate 57 Seats 2E/F[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pushback: 0552[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Takeoff: 0613 to South[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Landing: 1405[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Gate: 1408[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]The great unwashed[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]Let me be very clear. The overwhelming majority of my travels have been in Economy. I don’t particularly like going without sleep or being crammed into a seat that I can only leave once or twice in half a day, but it’s bearable. I’ve had some long trips in Business – mainly because if done right, it’s a quick and comfortable way to elite status – and international First is a snow-in-summer rarity for me.
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[FONT=&amp]So, if I’m making a meal of this trip, it’s for entertainment and information. I’m not setting myself forward as a jet-setter playboy. I’m a retired cab driver, for Pete’s sake!
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]When would you like your shower, Sir?[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
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I’d done my research. Emirates is one of the few airlines to offer passengers showers in the air. Only for First (so far, there is [/FONT][FONT=&amp]talk[/FONT][FONT=&amp] of allowing Business passengers to pay for a shower) and only for five minutes of water flow at a time.
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[FONT=&amp]Still, it wasn’t something I wanted to miss. I find having a shower between flights one of the advantages of lounge access, and having a shower in flight just takes the refreshment to a whole new level.
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[FONT=&amp]“As late as possible,” I replied. With only three passengers in First and two showers available, I figured I had pretty much any time slot I wanted. I’d already had a shower in the hotel, and one just before landing would set me up nicely.
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[FONT=&amp]I was allocated an hour before arrival and given good warning. This suited very well, as I’d had my dinner/lunch and a post-prandial nap, and could use the time to change out of my pyjama top.
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[FONT=&amp]I gathered up a few things in the Emirates goodie bag – there was something I wanted to smuggle in – and walked forward.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]The shower suite[/FONT][/h]

[FONT=&amp]Emirates has two bathrooms for First passengers, both forward, one either side of the small, private and beautifully stocked self-service bar. They are easily the biggest bathrooms I have seen on an airliner. Rooms rather than closets.
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[FONT=&amp]No windows – unlike the Business facilities at the other end of the upper deck – but a widescreen display showing the plane route, and doubtless able to conjure up any of the 1500 channels of the ICE entertainment system. You want to keep watching your movie while using the facilities, you can.
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[FONT=&amp]I was met at the door by my coffeepot pourer, who pointed out the features of the shower, stressing that I only had five minutes of water, and there was a gauge indicating how much was left, starting at a healthy green, through amber, to a warning red.
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[FONT=&amp]It is perhaps lucky that I didn’t spot the plaque reading “Maximum Occupancy: 2 persons” otherwise my sense of humour might have gotten me into [/FONT][FONT=&amp]very[/FONT][FONT=&amp] hot water!
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Getting wet[/FONT][/h]
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She closed the door and left me, promising that I had twenty-five minutes to myself.[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]I put my clothes on the hanger provided, removed my socks and exulted in the heated floor. This was better than being at home!
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[FONT=&amp]I had my own shampoo and soap, but the Emirates supplies were top-notch, and I enjoyed my shower as long as possible, lathering up and rinsing off.
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[FONT=&amp]I may have sung a little bit in the shower. I generally do when I’m feeling happy.[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]On that note, there was room for two – barely – in the shower cubicle (it was more like a cylinder, actually) but you’d have to be close friends.
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[FONT=&amp]I stepped out when the gauge hit the red sector. Onto the fluffy white bathmat on the heated floor. Bliss!
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[FONT=&amp]I had time for a shave, dressed back into my street clothes and felt ready to face whatever Emirates and Dubai could throw at me. (Though I suspected the challenges of six hours in the First lounge would be minimal.)
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[FONT=&amp]I had one more task before I left…
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Finishing up[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]In my research, I’d found that all the work of preparing, cleaning, stocking and looking after the bathrooms wasn’t performed by the flight attendants, but rather by dedicated maids, who wore different uniforms, weren’t paid as much, and generally flew under the radar.
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[FONT=&amp]Before leaving Canberra, I bought a small box of chocolates, scrawled out a thank-you note with my calligraphy pen, and stashed it into my carry-on. This was what I had smuggled into the suite.
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[FONT=&amp]I left it in a prominent place before returning to my seat, and in due course received a pair of smiles from the maids. Job [/FONT]done[FONT=&amp]!
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[FONT=&amp]And from then on, I began referring to the Business passengers – who had no shower access – as “the great unwashed”.
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[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
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[RooFlyer]

Re: The great unwashed

Fantastic re the maid's prezzie.

 

[Skyring]

Re: The great unwashed

Fantastic re the maid's prezzie.

I'm pretty sure another AFFer mentioned this - I just copied a great idea.

 

[Skyring]

Shiraz in Shiraz: Do Buy

[h=1]Shiraz in Shiraz: Do Buy[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
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[FONT=&amp]Dubai
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]UAE
19 Apr 2017
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Cities upon sand[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]On this trip, we were going to visit the ruins of Persepolis, the ancient capital of an antique land. Little remains of this once-mighty empire but a few columns and stone carvings.
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[FONT=&amp]Coming into Dubai, I was struck by the similarity. From the empty desert, houses are built upon the sand; in the distance, an unbelievable metropolis arises; at the airport a mighty fleet of mighty airliners clusters around three huge terminal buildings. Very little of this was present twenty years ago.
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[FONT=&amp]Think about it. If the Shah had been a more benevolent ruler and the Iranian Revolution had not occurred, turning Iran into a theocracy cut off from the Western world, all this might have been built in Tehran.
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[FONT=&amp]The ancient crossroads of the Silk and Spice Roads might have become a modern megapolis.
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[FONT=&amp]Not that Tehran, with sixteen million residents, is a small city. Just not a fabulously wealthy or modern one like Dubai.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]The four glories[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]Humanity has four crowning achievements:[/FONT]
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The city. The city defines civilisation. When humanity became farmers, we ceased roaming and built permanent settlements. Villages became towns and cities. Widespread agriculture could support populations who were not directly involved in food production: scholars, artists, warriors, administrators and rulers. The city made our progress possible.
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The cathedral. As technology, architecture, philosophy, and social cohesion progressed, we built places to address the big questions of life. Temples, cathedrals, mosques. Places to lift the spirit and assure us that we were not alone in the world. There was something greater than one. There had to be.
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[FONT=&amp]The university. Religion is unconfirmed thinking. Science settles the facts. The seasons, the stars, the big things and the little. Medicine has helped humanity prosper. Geology helps unearth riches. Physics lets us control the world. Places of learning encourage progress, allowing knowledge to build on knowledge and spread so that it might never be lost.
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[FONT=&amp]The airport. Don’t scoff. A modern airport – such as Dubai – is the pinnacle of progress. Enormously complex, it allows the ordinary person to roam the planet. Millions do. And those who stay at home might meet travellers. There’s more to humanity than our little bit.

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[h=3][FONT=&amp]
The whole[/FONT][/h]
[FONT=&amp]Together, these four creations give an individual an amazing reach of knowledge, of wisdom, of experience through time and space. Those who want to transcend the limits that have bound humanity for tens of thousands of years can do so, building on the lives and teachings of those who advanced our [/FONT][FONT=&amp]common wealth[/FONT][FONT=&amp].[/FONT]
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Most human beings live their lives giving little thought to anything beyond the reach of their eyes and the grasp of their hands. They can learn a trade, raise a family, grow to a ripe old age in comfort without too much thought or effort.
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[FONT=&amp]But some stand in the places that lift their spirit, they open their eyes, they see what might be.
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[FONT=&amp]Those who wondered what lay on the other side of the hill. what made the stars work, what caused some crops to prosper, what was the proper way to live a life, they led us upward.
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[FONT=&amp]Dubai and its airport may seem like a glorified shopping mall, but for me, it was my gateway to understanding. Over the next two weeks, I would visit the hearts of ancient empires, mosques of sublime beauty, the places where those of learning and culture thrived, and the everyday world of people whose lives were so different to my own.
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[FONT=&amp]And so similar.
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[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[Skyring]

Shiraz in Shiraz: Flight 1703

[h=1]Shiraz in Shiraz: Flight 1703[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
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[FONT=&amp]Tehran
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
19 Apr 2017
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Flight 1703[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]DXB-IKA[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]EK 977 B773 A6-EBW[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Scheduled: 2100[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Boarding: 2035 Gate A17 Seats 1E/F[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pushback: 2103[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Takeoff: 2126 to West[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Landing: 2304 from East[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Gate: 2314[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]A wasted flight?[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

[/FONT][FONT=&amp]We two passengers[/FONT][FONT=&amp] were wasted, let me put it that way! After six hours in Emirates’ amazing flagship First lounge, about half of it dozing, it had still been a very long day since Sydney with not a lot of sleep.
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[FONT=&amp]We boarded the plane, declined all offers of food and drink, cranked our seats flat as soon as we were airborne and slept all the way to Tehran. I sat by the window again during takeoff and grabbed a night-time view of the metropolis, but once the seatbelt sign went off, I was unconscious in short order.
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[FONT=&amp]So, from the point of view of enjoying our last chance of alcohol for two weeks, dining on some particularly attractive Persian-themed [/FONT][FONT=&amp]tucker[/FONT][FONT=&amp], and grabbing some more wide-screen entertainment, the First Class experience was wasted.
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[FONT=&amp]However, we could sleep flat in privacy behind closed doors, a rare luxury on an airliner, and we slumbered until the landing announcement.
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[FONT=&amp]My wife disappeared into the bathroom – no shower on this flight! – and emerged in hijab, a scarf covering her hair.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Tehran arrival[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]There are a few times I enjoy going through immigration.
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[FONT=&amp]Landing in Texas makes me happy. I like Texas.
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[FONT=&amp]Arriving back home after a long trip. Much as I enjoy travel, sometimes it’s good to be back home, where things happen as they should and I’m not eternally living out of a suitcase.
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[FONT=&amp]And Tehran. Iran is such a lovely country, full of interesting places and friendly people, I cannot help but grin.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Little old wine smuggler, me[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]I had two bottles of wine in my second checked bag. We’d been told that the bags of tourists were rarely searched, but still, I was worried that they’d show up on a scan.
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[FONT=&amp]Or get broken in handling, and officials might be alerted by a sloshing of red wine from my bag.
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[FONT=&amp]I’d done my best in packaging, but the zipper on the cheap bag I’d wrapped around the stout cardboard box had broken, and maybe the luggage strap I’d hastily cinched around the thing wouldn’t hold.
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[FONT=&amp]We waited by a silent baggage conveyor, nerves fraying by the moment. At least mine were. My wife had found an Iranian expatriate returning home and they were chatting happily, sharing tales of headscarves and sleeve lengths. I watched glumly as the entire planeload made their way through immigration and crowded around. So much for the benefits of being the first passengers off the plane.
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[FONT=&amp]The belt began moving, the bags came out, excruciatingly slowly. Economy passengers first, it seemed. So much for the PRIORITY tags.
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[FONT=&amp]Or perhaps my luggage was being scrutinised by grim-shirted officials.[/FONT]

[h=3][FONT=&amp]An unpleasant surprise[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]Eventually, my big yellow rolling duffle appeared and in short order my wife’s small bag, and – gulp – my second bag, which had been singled out for special treatment.
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Somewhere between Sydney and Tehran, the zipper had failed entirely, the zip had unravelled and the bag was gaping open. No telling what might have fallen out, but at least the big square shape of the box was still visible.
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[FONT=&amp]Some kind soul had sealed the whole thing up in a big plastic bag. I sighed, plonked it onto the trolley with all my other stuff and headed for the door.
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[FONT=&amp]Now pretty much midnight, I knew there was a guide from Pasargad Tours waiting to meet us and drive us to our hotel. An hour away.
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[FONT=&amp]But first, we had to unload our bags and pass them through one last scanner. I gulped again. Nothing between my wine and the eagle eyes of the morals police but a bit of cardboard and plastic.
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[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[I love to travel]

Re: Shiraz in Shiraz: Flight 1703

Really enjoying this thanks for the effort

 

[Skyring]

Tehran arrivals

[h=1]Tehran arrivals[/h]
[FONT=&amp]

[FONT=&amp]Tehran
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
20 Apr 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Tehran Arrivals[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]In many World War Two movies, the plane arrives at a remote airbase and a jeep appears in front of the pilot, bearing “Follow Me” signs. The plane follows to the colonel’s HQ or the secret bomb bunker or just a parking spot.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]So I was somewhat bemused to see the same system used in Tehran.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Tehran has two airports. Mehrabad is in the suburbs and is the old international airport, in use from 1938 to 2007. It’s a fascinating place, full of decaying airliners and Russian MiGs, clunky fifty-year-old Fokkers still in use, and a time capsule of a Sixties-era Western [/FONT][FONT=&amp]airport[/FONT][FONT=&amp]. It still has “Follow Me” jeeps.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]So too does the modern Imam Khomeini airport, an hour south of the city. Indistinguishable from any other current terminal, it is Iran’s tourism gateway.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Visas on arrival[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]I’ve talked about the convoluted visa approval process, but it’s now possible to get a visa on arrival. Just be sure to have your documentation – including passport photos, insurance policy, passport with six months remaining – and a chunk of cash and contact details for your first night’s stay. They will check. And maybe an hour to spare.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Iran is doing all they can to increase tourism. Considering some of the historical and cultural wonders, the natural beauty, and the friendly residents, I think they are on a winner here.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]But women must be in hijab, men modestly clad – no cargo shorts! – and you are not allowed to bring alcohol here. This is one airport where the duty-free shops won’t do you a special deal on champagne!
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Little old wine smuggler, me?[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]I had no option but to feed my luggage into the scanner, including my beat up bag with two bottles of Shiraz inside. Intended to be consumed in Shiraz.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]“Non-alcoholic” as per the label, but I could see the X-rays picking them up, the bag pulled aside, and an uncomfortable time being quizzed by officials.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]As it happened, no alarm bells rang, my bags were disgorged out the other end, I loaded them back on my trolley and we walked through the barrier.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]A pleasant surprise[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]There was a young lady waiting on the other side with my name. Our guide from Pasargad. She would help us to a car for the drive to our hotel in central Tehran.
[/FONT]


[FONT=&amp]We greeted her, and I had a request. There was a cellphone outlet at the gate, and I wanted a local SIM. on my last trip, I had had zero coverage apart from a brief encounter in the Jolfa free trade zone at rates that made my hair curl. I’d heard that there could be a long queue and forms to fill out, passports sighted and so on, but there was no crowd, just a bored youth.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]She spoke to the guy. “Fifteen American dollars,” he said. Or the equivalent in Euro or Rial. I had a wad of Rial left over from last time, so I counted off three hundred thousand or so, handed over my passport for copying (and my thumb for printing), and a minute later I had a SIM. Totally worth it!
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]The tour company charges two hundred dollars for a private transfer, so it’s worth arriving with the group if part of an organised tour, but our flights weren’t amenable to that, and I was glad of the assistance in a strange land.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]There was a Peugeot 405 waiting outside – about a quarter of all vehicles in Iran are 405s or the local variant – and we settled in for the drive.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pete
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Image credit: ‘Follow Me’ Jeep, Roland Turner CC by SA 2[/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[RooFlyer]

Re: Tehran arrivals

Very handy links there about visas. Thanks again.

 

[Skyring]

Wild and Woolly

[h=1]Wild and Woolly[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

[FONT=&amp]Behistun
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
3 May 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Wild and woolly[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

I returned home from Iran in 2016 unsatisfied. Sure, I’d had a great time and this magic land had taken a piece of my heart, but there was one thing that had eluded me.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Sheep. Everywhere I looked, from the outskirts of Tehran to the most remote mountain valley, there had been flocks of sheep. A few dozen hairy, pied, wild-looking beasts tended by a picturesque shepherd and his wolf-like dogs.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

But we never stopped in photo range. There were moving dots in the distance, and blurred shapes from a moving bus, but never, never, never a good chance to get up close.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Sure, in the cave-village of Kandovan, we saw a couple of men leading a ram down the street. Later, as we lounged on divans at a teahouse beside a little stream, we heard bleats and moans from outside.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]The tour leader, puffing on his pipe in the fresh air, stuck his head in. “Do you know, they’ve just cut a sheep’s throat and let it bleed out into the creek!”
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Meat has to come from somewhere, I guess.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]But that photo was about as good as it got.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]The Persian perspective[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]This year, we spent two weeks and the situation was no better. The occasional shot through a bus window. I had pretty much given up hope.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]We stopped in Behistun to look at some rock carvings. An inscription a hundred metres up a cliff face, showing Darius the Great subduing some incautious rebels.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Apart from being in a place where only birds could read the characters, there was a scaffold beneath, and photography unsatisfying. The story [/FONT][FONT=&amp]of my life, I guess.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Sheep heard[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

I walked back to the bus, ignoring the usual tourist stalls of trinkets and snacks. There were picnickers lunching and children running around, but there was a gloom on my head. Three weeks in Persia and no sheep pictures!
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]And then I saw them. From out of nowhere, a herd of wild and woolly sheep.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]I was back out on the grass in a flash. I positioned myself in their path, thinking that while they might scamper away if I approached [/FONT][FONT=&amp]them, if instead[/FONT][FONT=&amp] I stood still amongst the trees, they would ignore me snapping away.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

This shepherd looked rather more dapper than usual. It struck me that perhaps, like the Scottish tourist attractions that just happen to have a Highland cow or two grazing in a field by the cafe, this was not a random herd of sheep, but I was asking no questions. Just taking the best shots I could of the approaching herd.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]No dogs visible, which lent a little credence to my suspicion.


You don’t want to mix working dogs with tourists and children.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Suitably shaggy sheep, [/FONT][FONT=&amp]a world[/FONT][FONT=&amp] away from the white cotton puffballs of the Antipodes. Perhaps they were goats. Hard to tell really.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]I took about a million shots but, you know, there’s only so many photos you can appreciate before the excitement dries up, so it’s just the highlights here.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

There was one ram, looking even wilder and woollier than the rest. Like Godzilla, it reared up to take a bite out of a tree and I began to wonder whether my strategy of being one with the forest was appropriate.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

This explained the uniform level of the foliage. The sheep looked a bit odd. Some – maybe all, I didn’t look – had prominent udders, but the really strange ones had big wobbly bums. Maybe a few camel genes had crept into the herd or something. Just kidding.
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[FONT=&amp]The leading sheep were approaching me now, grazing their way up to where I stood silently amongst the trees. I was able to look directly into their eyes, and they were able to size me up.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

I began to regret wearing my green shirt and tan trousers today. This could easily turn awkward. I’m not usually worried about being eaten by a flock of sheep, but you never know with animals in foreign parts. In Australia, we don’t have large and dangerous creatures. Remember, as well as being woolly, these sheep were wild.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]I thought I would leave, but these sheep eat leaves – and possibly wood – so I stood my ground, [/FONT][FONT=&amp]fending[/FONT][FONT=&amp] the brutes off with my camera.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Fat-bottomed sheep[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

Well, that was one box ticked. Weird, wild, and woolly sheep in their natural surroundings. As they had been for thousands of years. Ever since they had been domesticated, which had likely happened in these parts, more or less.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]I was a little sorry that the shepherd wasn’t scruffier and accompanied by wolves. I might have stood a better chance of being eaten, I guess.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Oh well, can’t have everything.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[Skyring]

Photoshop merge: removing tourists

[h=1]Photoshop merge[/h]
[FONT=&amp][/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

[FONT=&amp]Pasargadae
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
26 Apr 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Cyrus the Great[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]This is the chap who started off the whole Persian Empire thing. Quite a guy: a rare mix of [/FONT][FONT=&amp]military[/FONT][FONT=&amp] leader, administrator, and wise ruler. He thought up the idea of letting conquered people keep their religion and language, rather than adding them into the mother culture, like it or not.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]More on Cyrus and his legacy later.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]How to remove tourists[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]
It’s the bugbear of anyone with a camera. You stand in front of some iconic building, waiting for the crowds to clear for a moment so you can get an unobstructed shot.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]But they never do.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]They are looking to take their own shots, and if you get a busload of giggling Japanese tourists shooting every possible combination of selfies, well you might as well just pack up for the afternoon.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]However, it seems there’s an answer. I’d heard that there was a setting in Photoshop you could use to merge a bunch of photographs, which kept the parts that stayed the same and dumped changes.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]All you have to do is sit the camera in a good position and take a shot every fifteen seconds or so.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Testing the technique[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]It was a hot, bright day at Pasargadae, and I thought I’d give the technique a whirl. So I picked a spot off to one side of the tomb of Cyrus the Great, set my camera down on the ground and hit the button every so often.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Looking at the results, it seems I missed the focus every time, but in my defence, the camera was low on the ground, the viewfinder unusable, and the tilt screen all but invisible in the bright sun.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]It wasn’t until I got back home – and then some – that I hunted up a how-to video explanation.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Photoshop merge[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]Simplicity itself. Just find the “Scripts” item in the “File” menu, select your image files, and choose the “Statistics” script with the “Median” option. (See the video for the exact sequence.)
[/FONT]


[FONT=&amp]It works. Up to a point. Where most of the shots have [/FONT][FONT=&amp]same-colour[/FONT][FONT=&amp] obstructions in the same place, that’s what will show up instead of the unchanging background.
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[FONT=&amp]Here we can see there was a bunch of people on the right, and they hung around for all the time I could spare while baking under the Persian sun.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]And there were one or two places on the left where something similar happened. I can crop out the guys on one side, and manually remove those on the other, but I think it looks kind of cool to keep the ghostly traces.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]I played around a little with some of the other options. “Mean” just averaged all the photos, and it turned out pretty bad.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

“Maximum” was okay, I guess. It kept the pixels at whatever was the highest brightness for that point, and as [/FONT][FONT=&amp]mostly[/FONT][FONT=&amp] the tourists were silhouetted against the light coloured stone, they vanish. Apart from bright clothing.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]In the end, the best shot is probably the one with the fewest tourists! The human figures give scale and perspective, and as it’s easy to imagine the regular lines of the stonework behind them, there’s no great loss.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[Skyring]

Hotel Laleh

[h=1]Shiraz in Shiraz: Hotel Laleh[/h]
[FONT=&amp]
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]

[FONT=&amp]Tehran
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
20 Apr 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Hotel Laleh, target[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]In 1971, the Tehran Inter-Continental Hotel was one of many Western-style establishments (along with a Hyatt, a Hilton, and a Sheraton) to cater for American interests in Iran. The traveller could enjoy a burger and a beer, drink champagne in the French restaurant on the top floor, and sleep in a room as regular and anonymous as anything in Dallas.
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[FONT=&amp]In 1979, with the revolution, it was confiscated, renamed to Laleh (meaning tulip, the symbol of martyrdom), and purged of Western influences. The bikini-clad hostesses disappeared from the swimming pool, into which the wine cellar was emptied. The carpet at the entrance had an American flag pattern, upon which visitors were expected to wipe their feet. The lobby was adorned with a mural declaring “Down with [/FONT][FONT=&amp]USA[/FONT][FONT=&amp]“.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]And the windows were used for target practice by the local revolutionary militia.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Hotel Laleh, survivor[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

The bullet holes are still visible near the kitchen of the French restaurant, but the mural and the entrance mat have gone. After decades of neglect the rooms have been refurbished, the piano player in the lobby has returned to tinkle out Broadway tunes, and Western tourists are again made welcome.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]The array of flagpoles at the entrance display flags from all over the world – with the notable exception of America and the UK – and drinks are served in glassware marked “Inter-Continental Hotels”. Sadly, wine no longer fills them, and the only beer available is the 0.0% malt drink, often pineapple or peach or apple flavoured.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Laleh Hotel, my Tehran home[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

I love the Laleh. I’ve stayed there four times now, and despite the narrow 70’s style rooms, the down at heel restaurants, and the interesting breakfast buffet (where you may fill your bowl with “kind of flakes”), it never ceases to charm me in its quirky elegance.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]There is a carpet shop in the lobby – “overpriced junk aimed at Russians”, declared our tour leader, and to be honest, a carpet with Day-Glo weave fails to charm me – but the bookshop is excellent, the decor distinctly Persian, and there is an absolute gem of a Persian restaurant, all curlicues and mirrors.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Location, location, location[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]Of course, our Persian carpet expert guide has selected this hotel for its proximity to the National Carpet Museum, but there is also an enormous park, a supermarket and shopping mall over the road, and a bazaar which comes alive every night.
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[FONT=&amp]The views from the rooms are [/FONT][FONT=&amp]expansive[/FONT][FONT=&amp]. On either side, snow-capped mountains are visible, and from the upper floors, the sprawl of modern Tehran is apparent. The view to the north shows mountains up to 4 000 metres high, but the outlook to the south is over nearby Laleh Park, with central Tehran beyond.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

Laleh Park is the perfect antidote to eyes starved of greenery after a day or two of airline travel, and it is a delightful place to meet Iranians at play. Picnic parties sprawl under the trees, children chase each other across the grass, badminton, table tennis, and football games spring up on the walkways, and couples sit on the benches, their hands entwined in defiance of the morals police.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Cats prowl in the bushes, and gardeners work in the flower beds. Streams of water and fountains are everywhere. Kiosks sell refreshments, and there is nothing more delightful than to gaze upon the Persians parading, an ice cream slowly melting in one’s hand.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Spend an hour here, and it is plain that Iranians are as casual and peaceful as any other people. Friendly, playful, welcoming, they give the lie to the myths of the “Axis of Evil” we in the West are fed.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pete[/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[kermatu]

Re: Hotel Laleh

I too am thoroughly enjoying your style and this whole TR.

 

[Skyring]

Tehran selfie

[h=1]Tehran selfie[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

[FONT=&amp]Tehran
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
20 Apr 2016
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Tehran selfie[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]On my first visit to Iran, I couldn’t help but notice that Iranians had a sense of fun, in direct contrast to the popular image in the West.
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[FONT=&amp]Far from being a dour and humourless people, Iranians and their art are full of life and fun. Almost every roundabout in an Iranian town or city will have a piece of public art, and it is usually quirky or playful.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

Perhaps the best example I found was in Valiasr Square where a gigantic curved billboard had a mural of a man taking a selfie. With every passerby and their aunt mugging for the camera.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]It took me by surprise through the windscreen of a taxi, and I was only able to fire off a few shots as we sped past. Tehran drivers are a breed apart, let me say, and unless there is a firmly red light or a squad of traffic police, they stop for nobody. Especially not pedestrians.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Tehran’s murals[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]The capital – and indeed every Iranian city – is full of murals. Sometimes it is the apparently benevolent Ayatollahs Khomeini and Khamenei, often a “martyr” from the Iran/Iraq war, sometimes a piece of anti-American propaganda.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]But often it is something striking, artistic, colourful, and amusing. It pays to keep eyes open and camera at the ready when whipping through Persia!
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pete
[/FONT]


[/FONT]

 

[Skyring]

Laleh Park

[h=1]Shiraz in Shiraz: Laleh Park[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

[FONT=&amp]Tehran
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
20 Apr 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Loafing in Laleh Park[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]We hit Tehran after midnight, were driven an hour to the Laleh Hotel, checked in, and pretty much collapsed into bed until a late breakfast. We spent the rest of the day not doing a real lot. We ignored all the nearby museums and art galleries, refrained from finding a day tour, and just lollygagged around.
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[FONT=&amp]Luckily the Laleh Hotel is well-situated. There are shops just over the road not too far out of the Western model – including the tiniest Ikea store ever. And the sprawling green expanse of Laleh Park is all around.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

Once we had unpacked our bags, worked out the internet, shopped for a few necessities like throat lozenges – I was coming down with something in the cold line – and a kilo of the most awesomely plump and sweet dried apricots, it was time to get out and about.
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[FONT=&amp]Thursday, so the park wasn’t as packed out as it is on Friday, which is the local Sabbath. We walked under the trees through a maze of shady paths, the open irrigation channels funnelling brown water amongst the groves.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]If there is one thing the Iranians do well, it is public parks. Everywhere we went in Iran, every city had a huge central park – often several – where the residents strolled and relaxed, and teams of gardeners laboured. Playgrounds, lawns, fountains, and flower beds are plentifully supplied, sometimes formally laid out, often seemingly haphazard in arrangement.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]In some provincial cities, camping is permitted. “Those living in the country come to the city for shopping or to visit, and they can stay overnight in the parks,” we were told. Neat little communities of family tents would spring up and vanish each night. Not in Laleh Park, though.
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[h=3][FONT=&amp]Cautious kitties[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

The park – and every park we saw – was home to feral cats. They were a little stand-offish if people didn’t have food to offer, but they would saunter in and dine from offerings.[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]I was able to get reasonably close, but rarely within touching distance. Worth saving a few scraps from meals, I guess.
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[FONT=&amp]The park, as one might expect, attracted a fair share of retired folk, mothers with young children, students, and whoever else found a way to avoid the working day. It was a pleasant and casual atmosphere.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

Even the gardeners seemed happy enough at their various and unending tasks. Now with spring in full flight, the flowers were blooming everywhere in abundance and variety. It was a place to lift the spirits and I happily scampered around, trying to capture as many photographs as possible.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Lost in a trance[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]Something about the Northern hemisphere. I’ve got a great bump of direction back home, but with the sun on the wrong side of the sky and moving in the wrong direction, it affects my bump something horrid.
[/FONT]


[FONT=&amp]Still, it was a pleasure to roam more or less randomly around. There were delights at every turn: sculptures, topiary, fountains, groves, whimsical flower beds, benches with footrests, lawns and kiosks.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Eventually, we headed for home; the Laleh Hotel’s distinctive shape is visible from most of the park.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Our tour group were arriving at lunchtime the following day, so we enjoyed an afternoon nap, a little catching up on social media – not Facebook, though! – and headed up to the top floor French restaurant, [/FONT][FONT=&amp]survivor[/FONT][FONT=&amp] of the Revolution and not, I’m afraid, much chop nowadays.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]We had hoped for dinner in the hotel’s delightful little jewel box of a Persian restaurant, but sadly that had been taken over by a tour group.
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[FONT=&amp]Oh well, I knew we’d get our fill of Persian food over the next two weeks.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Parks and people[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]I live in a city with a great deal of public open space, but every day, it seems, the council is trying to claw back a little so they can build stuff on it. High-density housing and shopping malls, preferably.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Public space shouldn’t be regimented and exploited. In the same way that airports are being turned into shopping malls, public space is being crammed full of ways to channel people into organised ways of pulling money out of their pockets. Public seating is scarce and uncomfortable, but cafes are full of places to sit down. Oh, and order a latte and chips whilst taking your ease.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]The best cities have wide areas where people can stroll or cycle or play or just sit. Laleh Park – and every other Iranian park – has plentiful benches, paved areas for games of badminton or volleyball, lawns for spreading picnic blankets on, and shady groves to explore or sit under.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]No admission fees, no requirement to do anything but relax. The people are happy and relaxed. Funny about that.[/FONT]
[/FONT]

 

[Skyring]

Beginnings

[h=1]Beginnings[/h][FONT=&amp][/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

[FONT=&amp]Tehran
[/FONT][FONT=&amp]Iran
22 Apr 2017
[/FONT]​

[h=3][FONT=&amp]Beginnings[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]The rest of the tour group arrived around lunchtime on Friday. Twenty-one paying tourists, all Australians, two Australian staff (Bruce the legendary carpet expert, and his assistant, Vicki), two Iranian guides (Parri and her offsider Javed), and the two bus drivers, who didn’t speak English, and at that time were way in the south of the country, where they would meet our flight in Shiraz the next night.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Saturday, the tour began in earnest, and we had to have bags outside our rooms at a certain time, be breakfasted and checked out a half hour later, ready in the foyer to get on the bus. This was a pattern that became very familiar for the next two weeks. About half the time, we’d be staying in a hotel for two or three nights with no need to pack up every day, but still, we sometimes felt a bit like sheep, herded here and there.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]A great double act[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

Bruce and Parri have been leading tours together for nearly twenty years. Bruce is getting on a little, but he has a wicked sense of humour and a delight in puns and wordplay. A fondness for tall tales and a sense of the macabre, and sometimes one is not entirely sure as to the accuracy of his discourse.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Parri knows Bruce all too well, and her commitment is to presenting Persian culture and history clearly and accurately. Watch her closely when Bruce is talking, and you’ll catch more than the occasional eye roll.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]They tease each other with longstanding familiarity, and it is a delight to watch them at work.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Ancient history[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

Our first stop gave us a firm base for understanding Persia. The National Museum of Iran may not be cutting edge techno-visual, but it doesn’t need to be. Its exhibits speak for themselves. This part of the world is where civilisation was invented, where writing began, where great empires rose and fell.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]This is a place that is more than Persia. This is for all of us.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]The entrance is majestic, deliberately modelled after the enormous brick arches of Sassanid palaces (of which we would see an 1800-year-old example in a few days).
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

There was a cloakroom off to one side, where bags and large items could be deposited. The notice in English was awkwardly worded: “Please hand over your personal belongings”.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Inside were riches and school groups. This was a continuing feature of our tour; all the major cultural sites had a steady flow of school students, mostly schoolgirls. Iran is obviously proud of its history – and rightly so! – and keen that its citizens have a solid grounding.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]We found the schoolchildren unfailingly well-behaved, polite, interested in we foreigners, and utterly charming. Given half a chance, they flocked around the female members of our party for selfies and basic conversational English.
[/FONT]
[h=3][FONT=&amp]Riches within[/FONT][/h][FONT=&amp]

There isn’t enough space here to do more than scratch the surface of the treasures on offer. Sometimes actual gold coins and ornaments, but the real value lay in the age of the items, sometimes tens of thousands of years old, and the extraordinary beauty.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]One famous example is a metal arrowhead tooled into the shape of a duck in flight. The head, wings, feathers all clearly delineated. A mirror beneath shows that the arrow maker has included the feet in this tiny work of art.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]Pottery in the shape of whimsical and fantastic creatures, decorative tiles, statuettes that exuded personality; each display case held fresh delights. Most were difficult or impossible to photograph due to reflections in the glass, and I yearned for a polarising filter. Next time.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

Some items from Persepolis – our destination for the morrow – held pride of place. There were panels showing the king receiving envoys from subject nations, superbly and beautifully executed down to the smallest details of dress and decoration. The king sits on his throne, elevated just a little above the platforms for his guards, officials, and the vassals offering salutes before him. Two and a half thousand years old and the panels are crisp, polished, elegant.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]

The objects that impressed me most of all, however, were small and not particularly beautiful. Clay tablets marked with symbols in odd patterns. Here was the earliest writing of humanity, the very beginning of history.
[/FONT]
[FONT=&amp]We only had an hour or two, barely enough to take in the highlights. And there was another museum next door, containing objects related to the Islamic conquest of Persia. Here were items of intricate patterns, colourful, complex, beautiful, and glorious. But we had no time to see them on this trip. Next time.
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[FONT=&amp]Parri gathered us before a wall map of Iran, using a long pointer to draw our attention to the various geographical and manmade features of the nation. “Note here,” she said, “how this body of water is the Persian Gulf. It is not the Arabian Gulf as some have recently tried to rename it.”
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[FONT=&amp]Somehow, with each thrust of her pointer back and forth, she also managed to jab Bruce, standing beside her. Must have been accidental.[/FONT]
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