WritingRoad

Soaking up the curious sights of the bazaar and the atmosphere of the beautifully restored caravanserai in the heart of it all, sipping chai and sampling the sugar-covered rosewater sweet of Shiraz, is all part of a stay in this welcoming city. But we’ve seen a lot more than tearooms in the short time we’ve been here.

Taking tea

Be prepared to be dazzled… » Read the rest of this entry «

Even the doors in Iran provide an interesting insight into the local culture and politics of the country.

Door knockers - a sign of the regime?

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Ah, the Persian side of Iran. Surrounded by mountains yet to be snow-covered – the ski season is round the corner – Shiraz shows Persia in a different light to what we’ve seen so far.

Where Tehran is busy, dirty and unattractive, Shiraz is green, traditional and filled with delights.

Shiraz - green, lush and backdropped by mountains

Once the city of gardens, poets and wine, Shiraz forfeited its fame for Shiraz wine to the French when the post-Revolution Government introduced a prohibition of alcohol to the whole of Iran. » Read the rest of this entry «

Golestan Palace - a haven from busy Tehran

Golestan Palace in central Tehran: A magnificently decorated place, where outside symmetrical gardens reflect the stunning tiling that covers wall to floor inside. The Mirror Hall was the most impressive, with light bouncing from wall to wall. Outside impressive towers clambour towards the sky and Tehran’s bustling streets feel a million miles away. » Read the rest of this entry «

I don’t think I’ve ever been so surprised by a place. One day in, and Iran has already offered more unexpected experiences than I could have imagined. Although, I have to admit I didn’t know what to expect – especially as a woman travelling alone.

But that’s the thing about Iran – however much you try to leave your preconceptions and judgement behind, it’s virtually impossible not to come loaded with some assumptions. » Read the rest of this entry «

Forget  everything you’ve ever heard, thought, read, seen or assumed about Iran. That means everything. The media, the newspapers, the appalled discussions with friends. Erase any idea you have of this dangerous place, filled with crazed fundamentalists, squashed between Iraq and Afghanistan. Have you emptied your mind?

Right. Let’s start again.

Imagine a place, lets call it Nari, filled with bustling cities, ancient sites, mountains, seas and deserts. A place where people will welcome you with curious enthusiasm. A place where the locals will invite you to talk, engage you in in-depth discussions of family, culture, believe or politics. A place where you won’t feel threatened, unsafe or ripped off. Imagine a place that felt undiscovered and exotic.

Would you want to visit? Or course you would.

Now, imagine that place was Iran. Would you still want to go? Of course you would. But leave those memories, assumptions and judgement at home. Come with an open mind and an open heart and you’ll be rewarded with lifelong memories of friendly people and an exotic discovery that can’t be matched.

Well, that’s how I feel anyway. And I’ve only just arrived.

Alongside ‘Is it safe?’ and ‘Why?’, the most common question I’ve been asked since booking my trip to Iran is ‘What will you wear?’ It’s not a new conundrum. In fact, it’s one faced by many a girl trying to ‘travel light’. This time however, my fears go a lot further than pure vanity or indecisiveness.

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…I miss it. The travel writing that is. My days as editor of Real Travel feel like a long time ago, despite being just 12 months since I left. It may have taken a year – and trips to Thailand, Croatia, France and Laos – for the novelty of not writing about my latest travels to wear off. But I’m ready to make my come back.

In short, I’m bored of the day job. So I have decided to write a blog.

So here it is! My intrepid adventure into the not-so-new-anymore world of blogging. Sending my words into the virtual world for anyone to read. And I couldn’t have chosen a better time to start, because it takes my mind of the waiting.

What am I waiting for, you say? It’s the same impatient excitement that every traveller experiences at one time or another – I am waiting for an all-important document to arrive: my visa. But this one is slightly different. This time my excitement is edged with apprehension. The question isn’t so much ‘When will it arrive?’ as ‘Will it?’

And if it does arrive, will I really be heading towards the unknown territory – at least by anyone that I know – of Iran?