Having finally finished my blog about Iran, here are some of the top tips and recommendations I took home from my three week journey: Continue reading My top recommendations for Iran
My return to Tehran brought a completely different feeling than my first arrival. After more than 1,5 month on the road, it felt good to return to a familiar place. I liked the fact that I could navigate the metro without having to look at the chart every five seconds. I liked how I could find the way to my hostel without the help of a map, how I knew where to buy water, how the shop owners and hostel staff remembered my face. I felt like I had – in a way – returned home, and it was a lovely feeling. Continue reading Saying goodbye to Iran
I had been recommended a trip to Qeshm island by many people. The first was a New Zealand girl who checked in my Tehran hostel when I was checking out. Then there were a couple of Germans, a Chinese guy and of course the lovely Suhaniya. So when I felt myself getting more and more tired of the cities, the daily harassment on the streets and the visits to mosque after mosque after mosque, my choice between Kerman or Qeshm was an easy one.
There: I said it.
Persepolis: that must-see historical destination in Iran. One of the ancient cities, silk trade stronghold, mighty civilization of long forgotten times. Of course I went there! Everyone does. Continue reading I regret having paid for Persepolis
By the time I reached Shiraz I was getting remarkably stressed out due to the struggles of solo travelling in Iran. I was also feeling extremely tired, but perhaps not ready to admit it. I had planned relax time in Armenia, not Iran, and there were still so many things and places I was dying to see! If it wasn’t for the super comfortable and welcoming Taha hostel, I might have kept going at my steady pace and seriously out done myself. But thanks to their relaxing courtyard, kind staff and supreme beds, I suddenly didn’t mind wasting time in the shade with watermelon and tea – at all. Continue reading Be kind to your sleeping heart: a visit to Shiraz
Only a short drive away from Kashan city lies the mountain village of Abyaneh. It’s famous for it’s red coloured houses that are perched on a hill opposite an old fortress ruin, and is said to be one of the oldest towns in Iran. Around the centre you can find many old cave houses dug in the ground, as well as leafy orchards and sandy plains.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately.
I’ve been thinking about what I wrote about Iran. The aftermath of the feeling this country left me with; the generic, creeping unease, the constant discomfort that grew bigger and bigger on me, the way one small sexist remark, after a while, had the power to ruin my day. Not because the comment was necessarily super rude or intimidating, but just because it was one too many. Because having to deal with tiny insults and minor inconveniences every single day became tiring, and a burden.
I’ve been thinking about it because I never endured that feeling so strongly in my life. It was a new, very unsettling experience. I’ve been also thinking about it, because many of you have given very strong reactions to my story.