We spend the day exploring the alleys of the village and sipping more chi relaxing. Masouleh is a popular tourist destination for Iranians and, despite this being an ancient village, there is a sense that this is a more outward looking part of Iran. Us westerners have become a secondary attraction for locals and tourists alike. The children are especially intrigued and I have to play plastic sword fight with a 3 or 4 year old boy every time I go back to my room, as it is his family whose room I am occupying. I am rooming with Shay, the superficially serious Irishman, Joost our ever smiling Dutchman, big John, who is being separated from Tracy for the night in case the locals find out they don’t have the same last name, and Andrew, whose mental and physical state seems to be improving as the journey goes on.
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| Jen's paleness combined with her traditional dress sense seem to attract a lot of attention from Iranian males |
The shops are largely full of local craftwork, although we do see an old poster of the England team from the 90s for sale.
There is a waterfall across the valley which some of our party explore but Meg, Dave and myself are content with Chi and chat.
I am getting thoroughly fed up with eating kebabs, although tonight’s was really good. We again spend an evening smoking sheesha practicing our blow rings.
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| Meg thinks she looks cool.... |
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| but not as cool as Belgian Sam |
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| the restaurant owner...and some bloke |
There is talk of us doing a firewood collection at 10pm at night, but some people are uncomfortable with doing this. Big John comes back from chatting with Lu to say that it is cancelled, but Andrew comes back to our room at midnight having been one of a group who did go. Communication has not so far been a highlight of the trip.
PS thanks to Meg for some of the better looking photos of Masouleh...
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