It turns out that 2 days after class started, we were to be given a 5 day holiday. The occasion: the death anniversary of Ayatollah Khomeini. During this time, millions of pilgrims from across Iran and the Islamic world pour into Tehran to visit his shrine south of the cities. Many Tehranians however take the opportunity to go off on holiday for a few days. They plan this holiday months in advance so as a result all the flights and trains out of the city were completely booked out. I decided that wherever I would go, I would have to take a bus, the only available form of transport. I settled on the city of Esfahan, being a manageable 7 hour bus ride away. All the hotels in Esfahan were booked out – I called every single one in my guidebook – no space.

Then I did a silly thing (in retrospect): I hopped on the bus anyway, and arrived in Esfahan at 11pm at night, without a place to stay. I wandered the streets aimlessly for an hour, joyously recognizing the hotels I had called the day before: of course, there were still no vacancies. I stumbled down Chahar Bagh Abassi Street for a while longer until I happened upon a shady hole-in-the-wall hostel. They had space, but they told me that they did not have permission to house foreigners, probably because they were a shady hole-in-the-wall hostel. I would have to go to the police station to ask.

I walked down the street as per the receptionist's instructions to the tourist police booth near Imam Hossein Square. After a confusing few minutes, in which they could not understand my strange accent, the gregarious head-honcho welcomed me into the booth. I sat down opposite him and explained the situation. However he seemed more interested in knowing where I learnt Farsi and whether I knew any Persian poetry. Eventually, he calmed down enough to inform me that the hole-in-the-wall hostel did not have permission to house foreigners – very helpful chap. He did however call up another hostel which I had passed earlier (no vacancy) and strong armed them into giving me at least a mattress on the floor somewhere in their building.

I stumbled towards Amir Kabir hostel and was promptly escorted to the courtyard where I was told I would be sleeping. The manager asked me to kindly pay 30,000 Rials ($3) for the privilege. I waited for about an hour for the staff to lay out a mattress – for some reason I kept forgetting the word for mattress, so it was pretty much impossible for me to ask them to hurry up with the mattress. Eventually the manager appeared and told me that there was a bed free in one of the rooms upstairs, but that it was a double and I would have to share with this kid from New Zealand. I eagerly accepted for a chance to escape the courtyard.

It turned out the New Zealander was actually a Yalie (Saybrook '06) from New Jersey. He was traveling on his New Zealand passport, backpacking through Iran on his 2 week vacation from med-school. We chatted into the wee hours.
The next morning I ran into a fellow student from the Persian Language Institute in Tehran, right outside my room. He was staying at the Amir Kabir. We breakfasted in the courtyard and made plans to sightsee together that day.

Esfahan nefs-e-Jahaan, the saying goes. Esfahan is half the world. My guidebook tells me it is "Iran's masterpiece, the jewel of ancient Persia and one of the finest cities in the Islamic world." Much of its sights were built during the Safavid dynasty which pushed the Mongols out of Persia in the 1500s and reclaimed territory from the Ottomans in the west. Clearly I was in for a treat. Esfahan did not disappoint. The world renowned Imam Square was marvelous. Filled with manicured lawns and fountains and surrounded on all four sides by elegantly arched walls, Imam Square took my breath away. At one end lay the grand Imam mosque. Covered in green and blue tile-work, it dominated the square. In size and scope put the Taj Mahal to shame. We went inside and were awed by the intricately decorated chambers, the towering ceilings and the piece de resistance – the massive dome of the mosque. My camera had a field day.

My lunch that day: Esfahani Beryani. A ground lamb cutlet wrapped in a cheesy nan. Yum.

The Imam Moque


Inside the Imam Mosque

As the sun drifted higher in the sky, we escaped the heat of the square into the Bazaar-e-Bozorg – the great bazaar, which had its entrance at the north end of the square. Built in the Safavid era, the bazaar was a sight in itself. It had tall domed ceilings and magnificent - albeit crumbling - archways amidst which the traders proudly displayed all manner of handicrafts; carpets, metalwork, miniature paintings, and woodwork of all shapes sizes and color could be found there.

The Great Bazaar of Esfahan

You could find any manner of handicraft here

It was very crowded of course.


The Jame Masjid - at the other end of the bazaar

An alley of the bazaar during prayer time

I returned to the square in the evening after a power nap when it had begun to get crowded again. Thousands of Irani holidayers streamed into the square to picnic on the lawns and soak up the atmosphere. I followed my trusty guidebook up a steep carpet-lined flight of stairs in the far corner of the square near the entrance to the bazaar and emerged in beautifully atmospheric teahouse. The teahouse had a magnificent balcony which opened out into the square. It afforded a beautiful view of the Imam Mosque and the square below. There I ran into a couple of my fellow guests at the Amir Kabir. We recognized each other by sight, so I sat down with them and ordered myself a pot of tea. Kim was from Australia and Tom was from England. Tom had just recently graduated from college in England and was taking a month off to travel Iran. Kim (a beefy bearded man) was a seasoned traveler. Every two years he would take four months off to travel across some exotic corner of the world. We sat there for several hours, watching the sun go down over the square, smoking water pipes and drinking tea. The thickening crowds below remained marvelously oblivious to our secluded presence above as we gazed in tandem at the incredible lights of the mosque and the square.

A view of Imam Square and the Imam Mosque from the teahouse

The three of us walked down to Engalab square after sunset to grab some dinner down by the river. Esfahan is also famous for its bridges which straddle the river. The Si-O-Se Pol – the most famous of the bridges – was brightly lit up and was playing host to the throngs of holidaymakers. We walked down the park along the river bank and joined the crowds on the bridge happily taking pictures of each other. We grabbed a quick noodle soup in a restaurant underneath the bridge – where we were joined by a friendly Iranian. We politely declined his offer to show us around Esfahan the next day. Energized, we decided to walk back to the hotel stopping on the way for a refreshing Slushy made from sweetened strawberry juice.

Si-O-Se Pol (Bridge) by night