Iran, From Persian gulf to the Kurdistan

Waves, soft curved lines, water, wind, continuous transformation, calm movement, silence, serenity, cozy solitude, peace.

It is paradoxical or at least curious that both, the desert and the sea, being so different, they can convey feelings so similar, one in the presence of water and the other in the absence of the same. But so is Iran a country of paradox, a real awakening of sensations.

After crossing the desert, nothing better than a refreshing dip in the warm shores of the Persian Gulf. A gulf always controversial, always in the media, military and economically desired. For some dark reason.

 A place formerly almost uninhabited.

And today grows and grows thanks to oil, and the interest keeps this black gold.
The old fishing villages, take a day here decided your anchor.

Today they are isolated and excluded. Young people start to work as refineries in looking for better wages and future course. Here subtracted older, even faithful to their traditions, they continue the practice of this ancient art of fishing.

In the calm waters of the Persian Gulf.

Hoping not swept away by the black tide of progress.

 

Its people do not go unnoticed. And his generosity and sympathy, leave their mark.

Even if we would be here longer our visas are next to expire and on the other hand winter is approaching. Still is a long way and many mountains to cross to the border with Iraq in Kurdistan, so comes the time to raise the anchor and continue.

We have to leave and leave back this beautiful coast.

Who kindly I provide shade and deserved rest.

And has delve back into the country.

Delight of their whimsical shapes and colors.

The climb is arduous, and intense sun, makes everything a little more difficult.

But in the company of friends and doing countless breaks, everything becomes more bearable.

Like a caravan of merchants it were, move slowly.

For as sinuous terrain.

And fanciful shapes.

Far as the first snows are sighted, have gained much altitude.

And while the landscape becomes somewhat bleak at times, it still drunk with their magic.

And what might seem a remote village of adobe, amid the mountain of the Himalayas themselves, is still Iran.

The cold and the snows begin to be present.

 The winter here is hard, so are the hostile lands of Kurdistan, not its people.

But further, we even find where to put the tent to spend the night.

Sadness mixes with the cold environment, we are aware that this stage for this beautiful country comes to an end.

We turn around and we said goodbye to it and his people. And just as sweet and warm look with which we were received, we look after and say with a heart full: SEE YOU SOON.

Iran the other side of the desert

Just outside the walls of the citadel. Miles and miles of vast desert is waiting to share thoughts and moments of silence.

But this is not any other desert, it support life, colors and shapes.

Los que aun viven es estos parajes son gente dura, adaptadas a las condiciones extremas, y ha vivir en el aislamiento. Quizas sea la soledad la que los hace ser tan agradecidos y hospitalarios. Son ellos los que dan un especial toque de color a las áridas tierras.

The heat of the desert borwn the hearts of this people, and the sun whom sweetens.

After a mirage.

Appears Oasis.

An ancient obligatory stop those merchants who crossed this land in search of prosperous businesses. Its people still tell stories of years past, of ancient routes, than were the roots of his people.

A past, with a long history.

That proud preserved and show.

A door in time.

It tells of great knights.

And epic battles.

 

Moments of glory and splendor of an empire, which today is discriminated against for their beliefs and the richness of its soil.

A 70 km from the city of Shiraz in Fars province is تخت جمشید Persepolis, where still standing the pillars which was the capital of the Persian Empire during the Achaemenid era.

 

 

Under the guardian figures of  the Grifos, in the middle of the desert Persapolis still lives.

 

Walking amongst the ruins, still feels the magnificence of this place

At that neither the passage of time has managed to steal the magic shows.

Where in the past, flocked lords of all lands of the empire and merchants from all over the known world.

A golden glory years, remembered for centuries.

Iran. Behind the walls of the ancient citadel.

It's time. The mosques call to prayer and the faithful gather.

To show respect and devotion. As it marks the Koran.

Behind the walls of the ancient citadel.

Sugar Teachers, transform the simple sugar elaborate aromatict crystals with which accompany the tea.

Saffron, lemon, mint, honey ...an endless of shapes and flavors.
Years of profession and mastery, the result of family secret.

The bazaar, the merchants await for prospects.

 Tea, dry fruits and nuts.

Spices

Silks.

Looms

Footwear.

Hangings

A myriad of colors, smells and textures. A paradise for the feelings, the ideal place to get lost right through the senses and indulge in the details.