It will be a big day trip today because from Qazvin to Kashan is a good 320 km. In Europe you can drive that in half a day, but here it is different. I feel best at a speed of about 100 km/h. The engine then whirrs around nicely and the wind doesn't pull too hard on my helmet.
I notice very well that the gasoline is of low quality. When I accelerate at low revs, the engine 'pings', a rattling sound that sounds like marbles have fallen into the engine block. But as long as I drive this Silk Road with a silky hand, there's nothing to worry about.
The cities I visit are increasingly southerly and it shows. When I arrive in Kashan it is 32 degrees. I am very happy with my Garmin Navigation, because the streets become so narrow at the end that only pedestrians walk. A car hardly fits in it. And exactly 1 meter before the door of the hotel (only recognizable as a door in a very long narrow alley) my final destination is reached and 2 young men step outside to welcome me. Fortunately, the hotel has its own parking lot a short distance away.
Behind the door in the wall hides an enormous labyrinth of corridors and hotel rooms. One of the nicest hotels I have visited. Completely in Iranian traditional style with a huge, beautiful dining room for 100 guests. But there are not that many because we can even be counted on one hand.
The next day I explore the city early and visit the bazaar (it is very neat and well-maintained) and a beautiful caravanserai. A caravanserai used to be a kind of overnight place for caravans, traveling merchants, their wares and their animals. The remains of these caravanserai are included in the bazaar.
However, when I look for some historic houses, I get lost in the alleys and return to the hotel. But outside the city you can also visit a beautiful garden, Fin Garden. Too far to walk and too hot to see in motorcycle clothes, but for 500,000 Rial (€1.50) a taxi takes me to the gate. The garden is beautiful, but it is mainly the water features and buildings that make it special. In any case, it is wonderfully quiet to stroll around.
In the afternoon I look for the coolness of the hotel again and towards evening a young lad from the hotel, Arsni, wants to show me something in the city “because I have such a good energy”. He takes me to an area unknown to tourists and shows me the ancient mud walls of what was once a gigantic fortress. He is angry with the government for letting it fall like this and tells me during the hours we walk all about the oppression of the people and how difficult it is to build a life in Iran. He has joined the protests, has just spent 10 days in jail and wants to get out of the country even more than usual.
Once again I consider myself lucky that my cradle was in the Netherlands and I appreciate our freedom. Perhaps it has become too obvious.
