• Каталог /
• Картинки /
• Desmond Kavanagh /

Описание: Yazd was my favourite town in Iran, I had hardly known such places existed before i saw pictures of this orange sun-baked city right in between the countries two monsterous deserts. Believed to be one of the oldest still-occupied cities in the world, Yazd is for the most part a vast maze of small roads whose adobe walls rise seamlessly from the dusty paths. I've heard old cities being described as mazes before without ample justification but the lanes of yazd have an ancient quality in their layout that gives them an almost organic feel. The endless passages carry the marks of former use with half-archs and ancient building facades at every corner, you emerge to squares that once may have held a market that are now used to play football in, and the old badgir's once used to cool the houses are climbed to watch. I felt Yazd was the friendliest of the places i visited in Iran also, lacking the bustle of massive Tehran and the shrewd tourism (yes, Iran has tourism!) of Esfahan. It's obviously very isolated and the people are more interested in foreign folk. I was invited to stay two nights in the home of an Iraqi family, the children of whom had lived there all their lives yet had no passports for either Iraq or Iran. They took me in and fed me more than i could possibly eat, sat in a circle around me (a large family of 8) and smiled and smiled and smiled as we tried to communicate any way we could. I have fond memories of tensing all my muscles like a startled cat being driven around at breakneck speeds in the blistering afternoon sun, helmetless on the back of a russian motorbike, terrified of death as my host turned to show me his scars while bombing down the street. Thanks again Morteza, you absolute psychopath.

Tags: