Back in the driving seat and heading towards Kandovan, stopping for fuel on the way. Our local team took us straight into a local oil refinery, no better place to get the best quality fuel, they said. As an oil producing nation, Iran has probably the cheapest fuel of any country. USD 0.1 for unleaded petrol per liter. Compare that to London, where I live, a liter of Petrol is GBP 1.89 / liter, which is a whopping 20 times moreexpensive.
We headed to Kandovan village; an ancient village situated in the foothills of a now silent volcano. The drive there was about an hour and most of it was a single lane highway flanked by wild walnut and apricot trees. Bee farms lined the mountain road, and it was difficult not stopping to try some fresh honey! On route, we thrill over spotting, a directional sign, giving directions for travel to either Europe or Iraq.
The last census of Kandovan village showed a human population of a mere 168 families and around 600 inhabitants. Like Cappadocia, the locals built homes which were dug into the soft pumice stone. We arrived just as the sun set and walked up flights of roughly cut stone stairways to marvel at the cave homes. Homeowners in Kandovan, a popular tourist attraction in this part of Iran, have converted the ground floor of their cave homes into little shops that sell local handicrafts, honey, spices and dried fruits such as apricots and berries.
The people of Kandovan appear more central Asian with high cheek bones and narrow eyes. One theory is that the villagers built their homes high into the mountain to protect themselves from the raiding Mongol hordes.
Zahira a little 12-year-old, approached me and started chatting. I could see her father, Hamza, encouraging her to speak with me so she could practice the English she was learning in school. I adore girls who are quietly confident, Zahira was just that. Hamza stood and watched proudly as his daughter chatted with me, a total stranger, in a language he was completely unfamiliar with. The simplicity, warmth and openness the Iranian people have shown me and our group has been one of the best highlights. They are the kind of people who seem genuinely happy to meet new people. Everywhere we went, anyone who could communicate in English, had 3 words for us: Welcome to Iran.
We finished our tour of the village and stopped for dinner at a local outdoor restaurant. Styled in a very simple, village like feel, the restaurant was made of circular seating areas. Thick warm carpets and cushions were laid on podiums under tall walnut trees.
As was expected, vegetarian options were zero, and our group of 25, had 15 vegetarians! Tushar had a brilliant idea and bought some veggies from the local shop. Mrs. Manek and I then cooked a veggie curry in the little restaurant kitchen. Served with rice and yogurt in little earthen pots, we managed to salvage the evening meal in a very enterprising fashion!
The meat lovers in our group had a chance to enjoy a local delicacy; Dizi. Served in small stone dishes, which gives it itsname, Dizi is a lamb, tomato, potato and chickpeas stew. The lamb is slow cooked for hours in little stone pots, and is so tender, the meat just falls off the bone. Served with the local flat bread, it is hearty and comforting.
A most wonderful final day in this beautiful country. We will depart for Turkey tomorrow but take with us the abundant love and warmth we received from the people of Iran. A country so rich in history, and a proud people still in touch with their glorious past.
The Jasmine trails 