Showing posts with label Isfahan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Isfahan. Show all posts
Saturday, 12 December 2009
Thursday, 3 December 2009
Iran: Isfahan-Yazd-Kashan
Isfahan Day 2
Today started with a visit to the 900 year old Jameh Mosque. Over the centuries additions have been made to the mosque by the various dynasties that have ruled Iran, so we saw both coloured mosaics and in the older parts the beauty was in the simplicity of colour and the geometric designs. In the original parts of the mosque there's very little mosaic work, the designs, calligraphy and geometric patterns are all formed by bricks. Each dome has a different design and the pillars are marked with patterns. The bricks that formed the huge interior walls have been arranged in designs. It amazed me that, back when there were no CAD drawings, no calculators, no electricity even, people designed these intricate patterns, someone worked out how many bricks they'd need, someone else had the skills to translate that into a precise plan and others had the skills to turn that plan into a reality – the Project Managers of the day I guess.
In the middle of the mosque's main courtyard which is surrounded by 4 porches or iwans, is a stone platform which pilgrims used to practice for the haj to Mecca. A mullah would stand on the platform and instruct the pilgrims on what actions to perform and what to say.
From there we went to see a minaret that's now in the middle of the suburbs but used to be part of a caravanserai (a place where travellers could stay overnight). Its surrounded by a small park and Hushang bought bread and we sat in the park enjoying the autumn colours of the trees. Very, very nice. From there we went to see one of the few surviving synagogues in Isfahan.
A short drive took us back to the Zayandeh River and the Khaju Bridge which was built by Shah Abbas in 1650. We were lucky enough to come across an impromptu performance by a local man singing an ancient love song in a strong and well trained voice. A small crowd of men of various ages had gathered round, including a couple of soldiers, and they listened intently as the men sang of his beloved compared the lady's voice to a nightingale etc. We he finished everyone clapped enthusiastically and it was interesting that the young people enjoyed the performance of a old classical song as much as their elders.
From the bridge we went to the “40 Column Palace” Chenel Sotun. There are 20 columns at the front of the palace but its called 40 Column because the columns are reflected in the long pool in front of the building. Inside the palace are vibrant wall paintings showing various battles scenes together with scenes of receptions for important visitors with dancing and music. The Afghans invaded in the 18th century and covered the paintings in whitewash as they did not approve of such displays of frivolity. Fortunately the paintings survived underneath and are now on view again though restoration work continues.
We then headed back to Naqsh-e Jahan Square to see Ali Qapu Palace which was built in the 16th century. Its 6 stories tall and originally served as the gateway to the park palaces, the last surviving palace is Chenel Sotun. We climbed up several flights of stairs to a large terrace which overlooks all of Imam Square, giving a wonderful view. Isfahan is preparing for the visit of Mr Ahmadinejad later in the week so we watched from the terrace as scaffolding was erected in front of the Imam Mosque and huge pictures of Mr A. and various clergymen were attached. We then went up a few more flights of stairs to the music room. The stucco walls and ceiling of the music room have cut-out shapes of kitchen items and musical instruments and its these empty areas give perfect acoustics for live performances.
To end a magical day we walked to the Abassi Hotel Teahouse to have more ashe reshre, the nomad stew.
Isfahan-Yazd
We travelled a couple of hours by road to Naem where we visited the 10th century mosque. Under the mosque is a complex of underground tunnels used for prayer during the heat of the summer. We then travelled to Meybod where Hushang showed us windtowers and an ancient icehouse where water was frozen during winter (pretty darn easy believe me) and then stored underground for use during summer. We went across the road to visit the old caravanserarai which has been transformed into an arts centre and restaurant.
From there we continued to Yazd which is one of the oldest towns in the world. We first went to the Amir Chakmaq Complex in the central square, the main building is a takieh a building used during Shi'ite ceremonies to mourn the death of Imam Hossein. Outside the takieh is a huge palm shaped frame called a nakheel (same as Arabic) which is carried around the city during the Shi'ite Ashura ceremonies. We climbed up on to the terrace of the takieh to look at the badgirs or windtowers that are on the roofs of most of the houses in the old part of the town. We then went out of town to the Zoroastrian fire temple, where the sacred fire has been burning for 2,000 years. We'd already been out to see the Towers of Silence where up to the 1960s Zoroastrians left their dead to be disposed of by birds of prey.
From there we moved on to the Jamah Mosque which was built in the 15th century and has a gorgeous tiled exterior with mosaic inscriptions from the Quran. While Hushang went off to prayer we took lots of photos which will be on Smugmug as soon as possible when we get back to Dubai.We then went for a walk through the old part of Yazd which is full of narrow alleys, hidden courtyards and motorbikes coming at you from every angle. We visited an old traditional house which has been transformed into a magnificent hotel, then spent a few minutes at Alexander's Prison which isn't a prison and Alexander was never there........We stayed the night at the Dad Hotel, booked for no other reason than the name. Its not actually “Dad” but “Daad” which means justice and is the family name of the hotel's founder. The site was formerly a garage and photos of the restoration process are on the hallway walls. The hotel was beautifully presented, comfortable and worth a return visit.
Yazd-Kashan
We left Yazd for a 4 hour drive to the village of Abyaneh which is about 25 miles as the crow flies from one of Iran's nuclear reactors. The military was in evidence in the area, both in the number of checkpoints on the way to the village and also the many artilliary, tanks and anti-aircraft guns clearly visible just off the road. The village is high up in the mountains and we started seeing flurries of snow as we approached, by the time we arrived the snow as falling with a vengence. The houses in the village are all a pale red colour as they're made from local clay bricks. The area was hard to reach for years and its isolation has resulted in the residents speaking an archane version of Persian that died out years ago in the rest of Iran. We wandered around the village meeting several groups of young Iranian tourists on the way. We went to the Zeyaratgah Shrine which is dedicated to the grandson of the 5th Imam, there was a separate porch covered with photos of local boys who has died in the Iran-Iraq war. The mixture of red buildings with white snow covering every available inch of their rooftops had an almost fairytale quality.
It was a long afternoon drive to Kashan a town that's been occupied since 4th century BC. We looked around Khan-e Tabatabei, which is now a museum/craft shops and previously the home of a wealthy merchant. The entrance to the house is through a nondesecript door off an alleyway but once you're through the door it was a different world. The house is magnificent, comprising over 40 rooms and over 4730 sq metres with 5 separate courtyards. Several of the rooms had delicate leadlight windows.
As the light faded we went briefly to Tappeh-ye Seyalk (Sialk) an archaeological site dating from 4th century BC. The site is still being excavated by a German team.
Later in the evening we had dinner at an outdoor traditional Persian restaurant where we sat on a carpet on a raised wooden platform eating kebabs and rice which went down a treat. Colin and I are both now hooked on doogh which is like a mint flavoured laban. The owner was very friendly, like everyone we're met so far. Tomorrow we head for the holy city of Qom and then on to The Big City - Tehran.
Today started with a visit to the 900 year old Jameh Mosque. Over the centuries additions have been made to the mosque by the various dynasties that have ruled Iran, so we saw both coloured mosaics and in the older parts the beauty was in the simplicity of colour and the geometric designs. In the original parts of the mosque there's very little mosaic work, the designs, calligraphy and geometric patterns are all formed by bricks. Each dome has a different design and the pillars are marked with patterns. The bricks that formed the huge interior walls have been arranged in designs. It amazed me that, back when there were no CAD drawings, no calculators, no electricity even, people designed these intricate patterns, someone worked out how many bricks they'd need, someone else had the skills to translate that into a precise plan and others had the skills to turn that plan into a reality – the Project Managers of the day I guess.
In the middle of the mosque's main courtyard which is surrounded by 4 porches or iwans, is a stone platform which pilgrims used to practice for the haj to Mecca. A mullah would stand on the platform and instruct the pilgrims on what actions to perform and what to say.
From there we went to see a minaret that's now in the middle of the suburbs but used to be part of a caravanserai (a place where travellers could stay overnight). Its surrounded by a small park and Hushang bought bread and we sat in the park enjoying the autumn colours of the trees. Very, very nice. From there we went to see one of the few surviving synagogues in Isfahan.
A short drive took us back to the Zayandeh River and the Khaju Bridge which was built by Shah Abbas in 1650. We were lucky enough to come across an impromptu performance by a local man singing an ancient love song in a strong and well trained voice. A small crowd of men of various ages had gathered round, including a couple of soldiers, and they listened intently as the men sang of his beloved compared the lady's voice to a nightingale etc. We he finished everyone clapped enthusiastically and it was interesting that the young people enjoyed the performance of a old classical song as much as their elders.
From the bridge we went to the “40 Column Palace” Chenel Sotun. There are 20 columns at the front of the palace but its called 40 Column because the columns are reflected in the long pool in front of the building. Inside the palace are vibrant wall paintings showing various battles scenes together with scenes of receptions for important visitors with dancing and music. The Afghans invaded in the 18th century and covered the paintings in whitewash as they did not approve of such displays of frivolity. Fortunately the paintings survived underneath and are now on view again though restoration work continues.
We then headed back to Naqsh-e Jahan Square to see Ali Qapu Palace which was built in the 16th century. Its 6 stories tall and originally served as the gateway to the park palaces, the last surviving palace is Chenel Sotun. We climbed up several flights of stairs to a large terrace which overlooks all of Imam Square, giving a wonderful view. Isfahan is preparing for the visit of Mr Ahmadinejad later in the week so we watched from the terrace as scaffolding was erected in front of the Imam Mosque and huge pictures of Mr A. and various clergymen were attached. We then went up a few more flights of stairs to the music room. The stucco walls and ceiling of the music room have cut-out shapes of kitchen items and musical instruments and its these empty areas give perfect acoustics for live performances.
To end a magical day we walked to the Abassi Hotel Teahouse to have more ashe reshre, the nomad stew.
Isfahan-Yazd
We travelled a couple of hours by road to Naem where we visited the 10th century mosque. Under the mosque is a complex of underground tunnels used for prayer during the heat of the summer. We then travelled to Meybod where Hushang showed us windtowers and an ancient icehouse where water was frozen during winter (pretty darn easy believe me) and then stored underground for use during summer. We went across the road to visit the old caravanserarai which has been transformed into an arts centre and restaurant.
From there we moved on to the Jamah Mosque which was built in the 15th century and has a gorgeous tiled exterior with mosaic inscriptions from the Quran. While Hushang went off to prayer we took lots of photos which will be on Smugmug as soon as possible when we get back to Dubai.We then went for a walk through the old part of Yazd which is full of narrow alleys, hidden courtyards and motorbikes coming at you from every angle. We visited an old traditional house which has been transformed into a magnificent hotel, then spent a few minutes at Alexander's Prison which isn't a prison and Alexander was never there........We stayed the night at the Dad Hotel, booked for no other reason than the name. Its not actually “Dad” but “Daad” which means justice and is the family name of the hotel's founder. The site was formerly a garage and photos of the restoration process are on the hallway walls. The hotel was beautifully presented, comfortable and worth a return visit.
Yazd-Kashan
We left Yazd for a 4 hour drive to the village of Abyaneh which is about 25 miles as the crow flies from one of Iran's nuclear reactors. The military was in evidence in the area, both in the number of checkpoints on the way to the village and also the many artilliary, tanks and anti-aircraft guns clearly visible just off the road. The village is high up in the mountains and we started seeing flurries of snow as we approached, by the time we arrived the snow as falling with a vengence. The houses in the village are all a pale red colour as they're made from local clay bricks. The area was hard to reach for years and its isolation has resulted in the residents speaking an archane version of Persian that died out years ago in the rest of Iran. We wandered around the village meeting several groups of young Iranian tourists on the way. We went to the Zeyaratgah Shrine which is dedicated to the grandson of the 5th Imam, there was a separate porch covered with photos of local boys who has died in the Iran-Iraq war. The mixture of red buildings with white snow covering every available inch of their rooftops had an almost fairytale quality.
It was a long afternoon drive to Kashan a town that's been occupied since 4th century BC. We looked around Khan-e Tabatabei, which is now a museum/craft shops and previously the home of a wealthy merchant. The entrance to the house is through a nondesecript door off an alleyway but once you're through the door it was a different world. The house is magnificent, comprising over 40 rooms and over 4730 sq metres with 5 separate courtyards. Several of the rooms had delicate leadlight windows.
As the light faded we went briefly to Tappeh-ye Seyalk (Sialk) an archaeological site dating from 4th century BC. The site is still being excavated by a German team.
Later in the evening we had dinner at an outdoor traditional Persian restaurant where we sat on a carpet on a raised wooden platform eating kebabs and rice which went down a treat. Colin and I are both now hooked on doogh which is like a mint flavoured laban. The owner was very friendly, like everyone we're met so far. Tomorrow we head for the holy city of Qom and then on to The Big City - Tehran.
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Iran: First day in Isfahan
In the evening we walked down to Si-o-Seh Bridge which is known as the 33 arch bridge over the Zayandeh River in Isfahan. The bridge was built in 1599 and is both a bridge and a dam. It gives beautiful views of the city and is beautifully lit to showcase its arches and brickwork. Its also a great place to watch the people passing by.
Here I have to say that driving in Iran, from what I've seen so far, is terrifying. Its makes Dubai driving seem orderly and safe in comparison. Iranian roads are full of ancient 'Paykan's, an Iranian manufactured car which looks like a Hillman Hunter from the 1960s.
Also, the chador is very apparent on the streets of Shiraz and Isfahan, in Isfahan it seemed like probably 50% of women were wearing the flowing black cloak over their street clothes. All women must wear hijab to cover their hair. Many Iranian women wear brightly coloured scarves pushed well back on their heads to show off their hairstyles. For us as foreign visitors we've followed the local ladies, none of the complex pinning, tucking and folding that we're used to in the Gulf, in Iran you just put a scarf over your head, throw the right half over the left shoulder, then the left half over the right shoulder and its done.
Photos are here
Monday, 30 November 2009
Iran: Shiraz to Isfahan with an unexpected detour
Saturday Part 2
We went out in the pouring rain to visit the castle called Arg-e Karim Khan which was built in the mid-1700s. The castle has high walls and 4x14m high watch towers. One of these towers has a “Pisa” style lean to it as its started subsiding into the area that was once the castle bathhouse. The castle was used as a prison during the reign of the Shah. Inside the castle walls is a large courtyard now planted with orange trees. In one of the buildings is a very interesting display of photos of Shiraz over the past 100 years. We went back to the hotel to collect our bags and have a final coffee with Mr Abbas before we went to the airport for our flight to Isfahan. The tv in the foyer was showing local soccer being played in a heavy snowfall and the receptionist told us that the game was being played in Isfahan. Mr Abbas rang the airport, was told that flights to Isfahan were unaffected so we headed out.
Shiraz airport is modern, clean. We checked in our bags for our flight which was bound for Tehran with a stop in Isfahan where we'd be getting off. We farewelled Mr Abbas who had by this stage adopted Jess as his 'daughter'. Once on the plane our departure was delayed as a big pow-wow took place between the pilots, the cabin crew, a couple of guys in vizi vests and another mystery guy in his late 20s who was trying to look normal while eyeballing all the passengers – even the children. Mystery Man wore the same style of jacket (lab coat meets safari suit) favoured by Mr Ahmadinejad. We eventually took off and Mystery Man sat in one of the crew jump seats at the front of the plane like a teacher watching errant students. As soon as we were at altitude Mystery Man stood up and continued to watch the passengers like a hawk. After 30 minutes we were served a meal of a bread roll containing what appeared to be a cold chicken McNugget together 1.5 slices of pickle per roll, a faux Bounty Bar called a Nori and a box of juice. Together with the meal came the captain's announcement that cabin crew should take their seats for landing in Isfahan, the announcement was made in English.
Nothing happened.
We didn't descend we just kept on going....and going. Eventually there was a long announcement in Farsi, but none of the other passengers seemed overly concerned by its contents. The cabin crew got out of their seats and wandered round collecting rubbish. Colin asked one of the crew whether we were overflying Isfahan and she happily answered “Oh yes, that's what the announcement was saying. Isfahan airport's closed and the plane's landing in Tehran.” She said we'd probably wait there 5 or 6 hours and then fly back to Isfahan. On landing, all the Tehran passengers left the plane while the Isfahan-bound crowd, which was nearly ½ the plane, stayed on board. Mystery Man had disappeared by this time. After a while an announcment was made in Farsi and all the Iranian passengers got up from their seats, hauled their luggage out of the overhead lockers and stood in the aisle waiting. After 5 minutes or so, another announcement was made in Farsi which resulted in the Iranian passengers putting their luggage back into the overhead lockers and sitting down again. After a further 45 minutes we were ushered off the plane. Thankfully Colin met a helpful Tehrani who from that point translated all the announcements. We got into an airport bus and were deposited at the terminal where we were hustled into a huge room with dozens of 2 and 3 seater sofas lined up in rows. This was to be our home for however long it took until Isfahan airport reopened, we knew by this stage that the runway there was frozen. The crowd of irate passengers gathered round the only Iran Air employee who ventured into view and the volume rose steadily. Long story short, many of the passengers, us included, decided to go to the bus station to catch a scheduled long haul coach from Tehran to Isfahan. The last coach left at 2am and that's the one we wanted to get. We got into a taxi with another friendly Irani who had been on the same flight. Our 3 suitcases had been put on the taxi roof and were held by a single bungy cord (occi strap for Aussies). There were no seatbelts and unfortunately we had Death's Personal Driver at the wheel....now back when I was young and stupid I've been in cars where the drivers have been drunk as a skunk but every one of them has driven better than this guy...he was all over the road, cut off cars and trucks with impunity, missed motorbikes by inches, he hit the kerb while cutting across 4 lanes on the freeway, he didn't know where the gears were, almost into the side of a huge truck, I could go on and on without mentioning how he cut off a police car and then tooting his horn at the them. We arrived safely at the bus station which was a miracle....I was so tempted to fall on my knees and kiss the ground, but we had no time. The bus station is high volume chaos; there are bus company touts yelling at potential passengers, passengers yelling at taxi drivers, which is what our friendly Irani taxi mate was doing, cars unloading people, suitcases everywhere. Our Iranian friend found the bus to Isfahan and we all threw our bags into the luggage compartment. The compartment was also open on the other side so we just hoped that our bags didn't disappear as soon as we put them in. Jess and I were given the front two seats, as we were ladies travelling together, Colin was behind us. All the while the bus tout for our bus was on the bus-off the bus -yelling-pointing-yelling some more, whew this boy was wired! Eventually the bus left at about 2:30am fully loaded including some Army guys who seemed to be having a low level stoush with some of the other passengers in the back of the bus but it was all very refined up in the ladies department. The girls in the seat opposite us asked for a Persian soap opera dvd to be played and then promptly went to sleep for the rest of the trip. The trip went smoothly, the driver knew what he was doing and was a real pro, bless his little Turkish cotton socks. There were lots of stops for toll roads and it as we got further away from Tehran the outside temperature started dropping. At one point we were driving through areas covered with thick snow. How the guys who were travelling in the compartment with the luggage managed I don't know......oh, didn't I mention them?
We arrived in Isfahan at 7am, retrieved our suitcases from the guys in the luggage compartment and were met by our guide Mr Zanadi. He took us to our hotel and we all hit the sack for a couple of hours.
One day late, but hello Isfahan....the city a French poet said is “...half the world.”
We went out in the pouring rain to visit the castle called Arg-e Karim Khan which was built in the mid-1700s. The castle has high walls and 4x14m high watch towers. One of these towers has a “Pisa” style lean to it as its started subsiding into the area that was once the castle bathhouse. The castle was used as a prison during the reign of the Shah. Inside the castle walls is a large courtyard now planted with orange trees. In one of the buildings is a very interesting display of photos of Shiraz over the past 100 years. We went back to the hotel to collect our bags and have a final coffee with Mr Abbas before we went to the airport for our flight to Isfahan. The tv in the foyer was showing local soccer being played in a heavy snowfall and the receptionist told us that the game was being played in Isfahan. Mr Abbas rang the airport, was told that flights to Isfahan were unaffected so we headed out.
Shiraz airport is modern, clean. We checked in our bags for our flight which was bound for Tehran with a stop in Isfahan where we'd be getting off. We farewelled Mr Abbas who had by this stage adopted Jess as his 'daughter'. Once on the plane our departure was delayed as a big pow-wow took place between the pilots, the cabin crew, a couple of guys in vizi vests and another mystery guy in his late 20s who was trying to look normal while eyeballing all the passengers – even the children. Mystery Man wore the same style of jacket (lab coat meets safari suit) favoured by Mr Ahmadinejad. We eventually took off and Mystery Man sat in one of the crew jump seats at the front of the plane like a teacher watching errant students. As soon as we were at altitude Mystery Man stood up and continued to watch the passengers like a hawk. After 30 minutes we were served a meal of a bread roll containing what appeared to be a cold chicken McNugget together 1.5 slices of pickle per roll, a faux Bounty Bar called a Nori and a box of juice. Together with the meal came the captain's announcement that cabin crew should take their seats for landing in Isfahan, the announcement was made in English.
Nothing happened.
We didn't descend we just kept on going....and going. Eventually there was a long announcement in Farsi, but none of the other passengers seemed overly concerned by its contents. The cabin crew got out of their seats and wandered round collecting rubbish. Colin asked one of the crew whether we were overflying Isfahan and she happily answered “Oh yes, that's what the announcement was saying. Isfahan airport's closed and the plane's landing in Tehran.” She said we'd probably wait there 5 or 6 hours and then fly back to Isfahan. On landing, all the Tehran passengers left the plane while the Isfahan-bound crowd, which was nearly ½ the plane, stayed on board. Mystery Man had disappeared by this time. After a while an announcment was made in Farsi and all the Iranian passengers got up from their seats, hauled their luggage out of the overhead lockers and stood in the aisle waiting. After 5 minutes or so, another announcement was made in Farsi which resulted in the Iranian passengers putting their luggage back into the overhead lockers and sitting down again. After a further 45 minutes we were ushered off the plane. Thankfully Colin met a helpful Tehrani who from that point translated all the announcements. We got into an airport bus and were deposited at the terminal where we were hustled into a huge room with dozens of 2 and 3 seater sofas lined up in rows. This was to be our home for however long it took until Isfahan airport reopened, we knew by this stage that the runway there was frozen. The crowd of irate passengers gathered round the only Iran Air employee who ventured into view and the volume rose steadily. Long story short, many of the passengers, us included, decided to go to the bus station to catch a scheduled long haul coach from Tehran to Isfahan. The last coach left at 2am and that's the one we wanted to get. We got into a taxi with another friendly Irani who had been on the same flight. Our 3 suitcases had been put on the taxi roof and were held by a single bungy cord (occi strap for Aussies). There were no seatbelts and unfortunately we had Death's Personal Driver at the wheel....now back when I was young and stupid I've been in cars where the drivers have been drunk as a skunk but every one of them has driven better than this guy...he was all over the road, cut off cars and trucks with impunity, missed motorbikes by inches, he hit the kerb while cutting across 4 lanes on the freeway, he didn't know where the gears were, almost into the side of a huge truck, I could go on and on without mentioning how he cut off a police car and then tooting his horn at the them. We arrived safely at the bus station which was a miracle....I was so tempted to fall on my knees and kiss the ground, but we had no time. The bus station is high volume chaos; there are bus company touts yelling at potential passengers, passengers yelling at taxi drivers, which is what our friendly Irani taxi mate was doing, cars unloading people, suitcases everywhere. Our Iranian friend found the bus to Isfahan and we all threw our bags into the luggage compartment. The compartment was also open on the other side so we just hoped that our bags didn't disappear as soon as we put them in. Jess and I were given the front two seats, as we were ladies travelling together, Colin was behind us. All the while the bus tout for our bus was on the bus-off the bus -yelling-pointing-yelling some more, whew this boy was wired! Eventually the bus left at about 2:30am fully loaded including some Army guys who seemed to be having a low level stoush with some of the other passengers in the back of the bus but it was all very refined up in the ladies department. The girls in the seat opposite us asked for a Persian soap opera dvd to be played and then promptly went to sleep for the rest of the trip. The trip went smoothly, the driver knew what he was doing and was a real pro, bless his little Turkish cotton socks. There were lots of stops for toll roads and it as we got further away from Tehran the outside temperature started dropping. At one point we were driving through areas covered with thick snow. How the guys who were travelling in the compartment with the luggage managed I don't know......oh, didn't I mention them?
We arrived in Isfahan at 7am, retrieved our suitcases from the guys in the luggage compartment and were met by our guide Mr Zanadi. He took us to our hotel and we all hit the sack for a couple of hours.
One day late, but hello Isfahan....the city a French poet said is “...half the world.”
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