Mowing the Lawn…

Divide and rule is as unlikely to succeed here as regime change from 30 000 feet is. Iranians will not let thousands of years of rich history and culture turn to rubble at their own hands. During the June attacks people in rural areas opened doors to those fleeing the bombardment of their cities, shopkeepers undercharged basic goods and neighbours knocked each other's doors to ask if they needed anything. The ancient Zoroastrian mantra ‘Good Words, Good Thoughts and Good Deeds’ transcends time, religion and ethnicity.

Attacking Iran

From the Zagros Mountains in the west where Alexander’s army squeezed through a small passage to avoid the Persians though the ingenious desert architecture of Yazd to the Heart of the nation (Esfahan) and the Soul (Shiraz) to the Caspian Sea in the north and the Straits of Hormuz in the south, Iranians are proud of their poets, sufis, writers and ancient cultures.

From the beach to the mountains (Winter Travels in Iran, 2019)

As temperatures plummet below zero a picture postcard blanket of snow and ice envelopes the tea houses. The rivers of snowmelt that gush hypnotically beside these summer sanctuaries fall eerily silent, creating an unforgiving environment where only dogs, wolves and bears survive.

The unique island cuisine of the Persian Gulf (winter travels in Iran, 2019)

I still regret not asking the shrimp mafia for a second explosive hit of mutant crustaceans. Subtly dusted with spices and flash fried in a cabin beside a lagoon in Baluchistan - they remain the culinary zenith of my travels in southernmost Iran.

Winter travels in Southern Iran – Qeshm Island, UNESCO Geopark (2019)

As the sun slipped through the last golden strip of clouds, I sat down to absorb the beauty and deathly silence across the spectacular valley. Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, the haunting sound of the call to prayer echoed around the canyon from a village somewhere far on the horizon.

Winter travels in Southern Iran – Hormuz, The Rainbow Island (2019)

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.

Winter travels in Southern Iran – Baluchistan (2019)

Overlooking the parade of bobbing fishing boats in the pretty harbour, I stared to the horizon, watching as a procession of tankers trudged through the Straits of Hormuz. One of the worlds most contested waterways seemed at peace; for today at least.

Winter travels in Southern Iran – Baluchistan to Hormozgon (2019)

‘For him,’ Amin explains ‘the time is fixed – winter and summer’. In Iranian Baluchistan people do things their own way. The desert has its own rules. Rules determined by tradition and nature – rather than politicians.

In praise of the Persian Plate..

I’m still amused by the paradox of a black cloaked grandmother stuffing that ultimate symbol of the ‘Great Satan’ - a burger - into the hood of her chador. It’s not all bad though – fresh potatoes produce the fattest chips in autumn along with bubbling vats of hot caramalised beetroots while fresh juice stalls offer some zing to cleanse the yang of the grease.

Above the clouds in Iran (2018)

Iran fascinates me - history, politics, people - the paradox. From the old men defiantly singing under beautiful Safavid bridges to the postcard seller who fetches bread for my picnics, the cities are full of stories and characters. Yet, it’s the mountains that always call me back. Barely 24 hours after landing at Imam Khomeini International I was already plotting my path up though the fairy lights, dried fruit stalls and teahouses into another world - the Alborz Mountains.