Tehran – Tuesday April 20

I got a taxi from the hotel in the morning. I asked to be taken to the Glass and Ceramic Museum: I had read that it was one of the few museums open on Tuesday. Instead the driver stopped at the Islamic Museum which is just down the street and which my guidebook said was closed. I was going to argue with the driver, but decided to just get out and walk the short distance to the Glass and Ceramic Museum.

As I was standing by the curb I thought I saw someone walking into the Islamic Museum. “Hum,” I thought, “Yesterday the Carpet Museum was supposed to be open and it was closed. Today the Islamic Museum was suppose to be closed. Hum, maybe it’s open.” I walked over and sure enough it was. What luck – I was delighted. It was full of great Islamic stuff: hand written Korans, calligraphy in tiles and arabesque patterns carved in wood.

I got my map out and headed over to Ferdosi Street, another busy shopping area. The day was sunny and pleasant and I walked along looking in all the shops. Up near Enghelab Avenue I found a bunch of antique shops but didn’t find anything there I couldn’t live without. I took a taxi back to the hotel and had lunch. Then I took one last trip out to the Carpet Museum. The guy at the taxi desk said, “Didn’t you go there yesterday?”

After a quick tour of all those incredible carpets that I could never afford to own, I walked back and spent the afternoon in the hotel lobby talking to the staff. I passed the rest of the day there and finally it was time to head to the airport for my flight home.

After the ugly experience in Shiraz I wanted to get to the airport early. I arrived the recommended 3 hours before departure and, much to my surprise, whizzed through security unchallenged. In fact, I was so early that they closed the departure lounge leaving me sitting inside alone. After awhile a guard came over to talk. He was in his late 20’s and spoke very little English. He asked to look at the book I was reading and, when he found a card from the hotel that was written in both Farsi and English, he used it to ask me how much money I made. Talking money always makes me nervous. We compared the price of food and clothes and finally he asked me to give him $10.

Now, here I was in the departure lounge alone with a security guard, a guy I figured could make my life infinitely more complicated, and he was asking for money. I figured simply telling him to forget it wasn’t the best approach. So I delayed. I just shook my head no and said, “Let me tell you something about capitalism, my friend: you don’t get money by just asking for it. It simply doesn’t work that way.” I smiled at him. “No?” he asked.

Of course he didn’t understand what I was saying, but I figured he would get the message – and I hoped he wouldn’t be offended. I did the same routine over and over. Finally he got called away. I said, “Bye bye.” He nodded at me and walked off repeating what I had said to himself, “Bye bye. Bye bye.” Thankfully that was the last I saw of him. Soon my flight was called and I left for home.

I loved Iran and the Iranians. Even that knuckle-headed security guard asking for money was pleasant. It was a great place to travel, the people were gentle and the sights spectacular. There was rarely a dull moment.

That said, Iran probably isn’t for everybody – I mean who would make their first trip overseas to Iran? But for the seasoned traveler, especially one who loves the Middle East, Iran is a gem. There are few tourists and you will surely receive a warm welcome.

I’m also sure there is any ugly underbelly to Iran. I just caught a glimpse of it with the soldiers at the checkpoint and the security at the airport. All I can speak from is my own experience: I was treated very well in Iran.

Did you like this article?

    

 

Share it

 

Place a comment