The eastwards road ends for us in Shiraz. It took us more than 13.000 kilometres to drive here; now it’s time to turn back.
This is the south. The sky shines without a cloud. It’s still hot. Domes of the mosques that rise from the sea of countless mud roofs are adorned with pink and yellow flowers. In many of its city gardens cypresses shamelessly lean on palm trees full of dates; tangerines and pomegranates hang from the trees. Once, Shiraz has been famous for nightingales, poets, roses, and wine. The vineyards and famous grapes are replaced by fields of watermelons. The charm is long gone but is not forgotten in the poems of Hafez and Saadi.
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1 comment:
Congratulations! You finally reached your goal.
Your travel story with wonderful pictures widely outshines Byron´s "The road to Oxiana", which is called "the wittiest book ever written about Iran".
See you in 26 days in Damascus.
Bisse and Johan
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