Despite being five miles from the Iranian mainland the ubiquitous frowns of Khomeini and Khamenei – the Supreme Leaders – still bear down on us from a sign as we disembark the local ferry.
Their subliminal Islamic guidance, this time, is juxtaposed upon the palm fringed beaches of Hormuz – the ‘Rainbow Island’ – one of the southernmost outposts of Iran. I was the sole westerner among a hundred of so Iranians taking the thrice daily ferry to this hidden paradise, which at times seems to operate beyond the grasp of their regime.
A homely surprise awaited as I was greeted from the pier by a parade of pimped-up Chinese tuk tuks, gently touting for business. Equally unexpected was the sound-clash of Iranian dance tunes as drivers competed for customers by showing off their on-board sound systems. The weekend was approaching so business was brisk, with Iranians squeezing themselves and their belongings into tuk tuks and heading off to stay in local houses for a couple of nights.
There are no roads on Hormuz Island, making tuk tuks ideal for chugging along the ferrous red tracks that wind through the colourful rock formations. We couldn’t be further – physically or mentally – from the gridlock and pollution of Tehran.
Islands have their own mentality. The freshness of salt fused air, beauty of the sunsets and hypnotic rhythm of lapping waves can’t fail to create calmness. Fishing remains the main source of income across the Persian Gulf islands, and people here maintain a traditional, humble lifestyle.
I was curious to see how an island mind-set transposes itself on revolutionary Iran. Most arrivals were young adventurous couples or mixed groups of friends that commonly travel around the country. They come to explore the island – camp, swim and relax. Pressures of city life and prying eyes of authority have developed an outdoor culture among Iranians, actually dating back to the Shah’s oppressive regime.
My trusty fixer, Amin, found a tuk tuk driver and within an hour we’d rented a house with courtyard just back from the ocean – for less than $20 a night. I was already feeling the magic and energy that the islands resident artist, Dr Nadalain, would later tell me about.
We stumbled across a cool coffee shop the next morning, feasting on a traditional herb and tomato omelette, topped by cubes of melting creamy Iranian feta. After complimenting the owner on his exceptional coffee, it was time to explore…
Our tuk tuk driver, Mustafah, guided us through an incredible kaleidoscope of red, purple, yellow and blue coloured mountains, caves and tracks. At Rainbow Mountain our walking path twisted through outcrops of jagged rock just as the sun picked out the swirling colours within them. Stunning.
Peering tentatively over a sheer drop at Red Beach, we witnessed a wedding photo shoot on the sands below. The white dress contrasted perfectly with the deep rich coloured sand, and blue ocean. Silver Beach finally presented the chance to wander along the shoreline and feel the sand between my toes, as the waves gently slapped the beach.
Surrounded by the beauty of nature, I decided to forego exploring the red stone Portuguese Castle (one of the last surviving monuments of Portuguese colonial rule in the Persian Gulf) in favour of a Hormuz sunset. As the temperature finally started to drop we snaked our way along a path through a twisting forest of craggy rocks which finally opened to reveal a dramatic viewpoint, high in the rocks. Below a seemingly endless strip of sandy beach is eventually engulfed by the ocean. On the horizon we watched as the tangerine sun gently kissed the sea, the sky reddened, deepened – and went black. Later it would brighten again with thousands of stars lighting up a clean, clear sky.
The Lonely Chopstick 