The evenings are cool in Tehran, the climate here reminds me of the Mediterranean climate back home in Perth. Hot days, cooler nights. I was wandering around my new ‘hood around Ferdowsi Steet, looking for coffee. Easier said than done in a nation of tea drinkers.
The scene was dark, relaxed, with a chilled-out vibe. In screened-off areas, people were just hanging out smoking large water pipes and drinking tea. I guessed this was an Iranian tea house, but every question I had was fruitless – the language barrier was too great to overcome.
Phillipa and I kicked our shoes off, sat down on our own screened off day bed replete with vintage Persian rugs and cushions, and made like locals – as best we could. They didn’t serve coffee, but it didn’t matter. We were given a pot of tea on a silver tray, with a plate of candy, some biscuits, and a couple of lolly-pops. Then I received a shrug, followed by a welcoming smile.
It was perfect. My feet desperately needed the rest. Earlier today, I had spent hours walking through the Tehran Grand Bazaar. At twenty square kilometers in size, with two hundred thousand vendors, and I was told up to two million visitors in a single day, the Grand Bazaar is the largest market of it’s type anywhere on Earth.
A local provided an impromptu guided tour, as he went about his business. As he pointed down one alley inside the immense complex I stared as it snaked off into the distance, and heard him say “this alley alone goes for 2 or 3 kilometres, with 20,000 shops”.
دوری که در او آمدن و رفتن ماست
او را نه بدایت نه نهایت پیداست
کس می نزند دمی در این معنی راست
کاین آمدن از کجا و رفتن به کجاست
