North Africa ‘Plus’ Travel Diary

2011

 

Our driver-come-guide, Akba, likes to speak in similes and metaphors.  “A carpet is like a garden”.  “Travelling is like the root of a tree reaching out”.  “Poetry  is the glue of civilisation”.  “Ideas are like a chain”.

And so he was at his most forthcoming this morning as we started our travels in the city of Shiraz at the city’s Garden of Paradise (which you may know better as the Bagh-e Eram).  Centred on the Eram Palace (or Kakh-e Eram), the gardens were a lovely expanse of irrigated greenery in a classic Persian landscaping design - which he felt he must describe to us in excruciating detail.  Every element of the garden had been carefully considered by its designers - and thus required a Very Thorough Explanation for us - from the shape of the walls, the east-west orientation, the use of shadows, the use of water (both running and still, of varying depths, etc), the choice of flowering species, the choice of trees, the use of ceramics, the use of plaster, the use of wood, the use of metal, the use of glass, the use of grass, the use of reflections, the seasonal changes, the anthropological significance of different plants, the choice of areas of deepest shade, and perhaps most importantly (because this was saved until the end),the way in which Persian gardens differ from gardens elsewhere.  In the west, we were told, green areas of grass are separated to create gardens, whereas in Persia, the grass as well as the trees and flowers are all brought together harmoniously where there is water in order to create a pleasant and distinctive gathering space for people that contrasts with the arid surrounds.  And so it is that carpets perform the function of a garden inside people’s houses, creating and defining a gathering place, introducing colour and beauty - get it?

Our second stop for the day, Sa’di’s Tomb (which you may know better as Aramgah-e Sa’di) also had a garden which required an extensive explanation from Akba.  Sa’di was an Iranian writer who wrote extensively about gardens and roses (I guess he could be described as a literary, non-verbal Akba).  Apparently there is a resurgence of interest among young people in Iran’s ancient past, because they see this history as defining their authentic national identity, in stark contrast with the somewhat heavy brand of Islam that they see being imposed upon them by the authorities.  This is leading to an increase in interest in literature, poetry (the “glue of civilisation”, remember?) and ancient Persian religions such as Zoroastrianism, Sufism, and Mandaeism, as well as more recent religions such as Baha’ism.  And because tombs such as Sa’di’s are symbols of Iranian identity, they are the most popular places for young dating couples.

Thus it was that we saw even more young dating couples at our next stop, Hafez’s Tomb (which you may know better as Aramgah-e Hafez).  Hafez is even more popular than Sa’di in Iran today - it is not often that a classical poet receives the adoration of a rock star.  Almost every Iranian can quote the work of Hafez, bending it to whichever social or political persuasion he or she subscribes to or wishes to promote.  The tomb’s grounds were beautifully landscaped, including the formal garden area, although the most popular area for the young people seemed to be the seats in the shade of the perimeter wall.

Akba had less to say at our fourth stop, presumably because there were no formal gardens.  This stop was the Qu’ran Gate (which you may know better as Darvazeh-ye Qu’ran), situated at the northern entrance to Shiraz in a deep ravine known as the Allah Akbar Gorge, so named because people would praise Allah when they arrived from their desert travels and looked from here down towards Shiraz below.  Beautifully located at the foot of a slope that has a fast flowing waterfall above, the impressive gateway was built in 1949 to replace an earlier gateway that was in ruins at the time.  The gateway holds a copy of the Qu’ran (hence its name), and travellers have traditionally passed underneath it before undertaking any journey.  To the front of the gate is a large traffic island with an absurdly tasteless representation of a peacock that seems designed to terrify any young child, no doubt making them want to escape from Shiraz through the nearby Qu’ran Gate as quickly as possible.

Just above the Gate is the cave where a Sufi mystic and poet, Khwaju Kermani, spent his life cut off from society, thinking and meditating.  (You may know him better by his full name of Abu’l-ʿAṭā Kamāl-al-Din Maḥmud b. ʿAli b. Maḥmud Morshedi, who lived from 1280–1352).  Despite his isolation, it was he who said that “Travelling is like the root of a tree reaching out”.  As he explained it, just as the tree becomes healthier and more vibrant as the roots spread and bring in new nutrients, so people become healthier and more vibrant as they travel and are nourished by new ideas and experiences.  I quite like this Kermani fellow.

Our fifth stop (of ten) for the day was the Shrine of Ali-ben Hamza (which you may know better as the Imamzadeh-ye Ali Ebn-e Hamze).  Its exterior was dominated by an intricately decorated, bulbous Shirazi dome, but what made this shrine especially appealing  was that it welcomed non-Muslims inside, something that is very rare in Iran.  And so it was that Tim and I removed our shoes and entered inside, thus experiencing the dazzling mirror work on the walls and ceilings that are (we were told) typical of the interiors of most Iranian shrines.  It was wonderful to be welcomed so warmly into a place that is usually forbidden to outsiders so we could experience this architectural gem.

Our sixth stop was also a place that we were surprised, and pleased, to be able to enter.  This was the Khan Madrasah, a Koranic college for the training of mullahs that you may know better as Madraseh-ye Khan.  Built in a similar style to the large madrasahs in Samarkand and Bukhara (in Uzbekistan), we arrived just as the Grand Mullah was finishing a lecture to a small group of mullahs and trainees.  The madrasah was designed as a two-storey high open box surrounding a courtyard with tastefully landscaped pools and trees, the buildings being covered by beautifully intricate patterns of ceramic tiles.

Our seventh stop was less of a stop than a walk through the cruciform-shaped Vakil Bazaar in the old centre of the city.  The bazaar was a riot of colour and action, all in the welcome shade of the high vaulted brick ceilings.  Various sections of the market were selling household goods (often imported from China), carpets, handicrafts, sweet-smelling spices, clothes and shoes.  In the centre of the bazaar was an open-roofed area where a pool with a small fountain was providing welcome humidity and relief from the heat for passers-by.

Our eighth stop was just to the edge of the bazaar, this being the Vakil Mosque (which you may know better as the Masjed-e Vakil).  This large mosque, also built in the open Samarkand style around a square courtyard was, like the madrasah, intricately decorated with ceramic tiles, and contained a fascinating unpublishable secret.

By this time, the weather outside was getting quite hot (or more precisely, 56 degrees Celsius), so we stopped for a light lunch in a small teahouse in the bazaar.  Our choice for “dizze”, a traditional Iranian dish that you may know better as ‘dizi’ or ‘abgusht’.  This was a mix of chickpeas, potatoes, tomatoes, onions and soft-boiled mutton, cooked in a small earthenware pot.  To eat it, the broth must first be drained off into a side bowl, after which a metal pestle is used to mash the remaining ingredients in the earthenware pot.  Then, small helpings of the ‘mix’ are spooned on to pieces of flatbread which are then dipped in the broth, and eaten.  It looked terrible (well, unappetising anyway), but it tasted great!

Our final stop for the day was a small but ornate garden, called the  Orange Garden (which you might know as the Bagh-e Naranjestan), with an accompanying pavilion known as the Naranjestan-e Ghavam.  Hidden behind a very plain but high brick wall, the garden was built in the 1880s by a wealthy family, and if it had not been for all the renovation scaffolding, the highlight may well have been the pavilion’s mirrored entrance hall which opened into rooms covered in an amazing combination of intricate tiles, inlaid wooden panels and stained-glass windows.

Amazingly, having started at 8 am this morning, we completed all this sightseeing by 3 pm - and we certainly had not cut short the detailed explanations of any gardens to do it!

It was something of a welcome relief to return to the hotel to rest in the cooler temperatures - central Iran does get hot outside at this time of the year.  Furthermore, it was Akba’s birthday, so it was good that he could spend some extra time with his family before tomorrow morning’s early start for the drive to Yazd.

Day 20 - Shiraz, Iran

Saturday

2 July 2011

Today’s Bonus Images