Iran > Visiting a cave dwelling

It’s actually a pity that we’re only staying one night in this hotel. The hotel is the most luxurious of all the hotels so far. A spacious room with a sitting area and a separate kitchenette. Even the large lobby looks luxurious. I leave Tabriz heading south. By bus I travel to Kandovan, an old mountain village that strongly resembles the cave dwellings I had previously seen in Cappadocia. The cave houses of Kandovan cling to the mountainside.

Iran - An old man invites me into his old cave dwelling

Several of the old houses are still inhabited or have been turned into shops. I walk into the narrow alleys. Many alleys consist of stairways winding between the houses. I visit a few shops. An old man with a walking stick beckons me to follow him. Slowly he climbs a stairway to a small door. He opens the worn-out old lock. I am allowed to look inside his cave dwelling. He talks to me nonstop in Farsi. From his gestures I understand that I may also see his small kitchen. I take off my shoes and pass through the little passageway into the kitchen. A primitive space. It must be almost impossible for this man to spend his old age here.

Iran - The village of Kandovan is also called little Cappadocia

I politely refuse the tea and thank him with a small tip. When we drive into Bonab, we stop beside the Mehr Abad Mosque. The blue mosque is an old one with beautiful wooden pillars. The caretaker beckons me to come inside as well. He welcomes me with a friendly gesture. Outside, a group of boys is waiting for me. They want to know everything, but speak hardly any English. The conversation is difficult, but with gestures and my photo booklet, I manage quite well. I break off the talk to also visit the museum. The museum shows the life of the Kurds in the Iranian province of Azerbaijan. The building itself, an old hammam, impresses me more. Outside, the boys are still waiting for me. Can I describe the Netherlands? The number of listeners grows quickly. Fortunately, there are also a few who speak more English. Soon the “red light district” is brought up. Everyone is curious. Because of the conversation, I have lost track of time. The rest of the group is already waiting.

Iran - The interior of the Mehr Abad Mosque in Bonab

I quickly say goodbye and rejoin them for lunch. A typical kebab restaurant. Because of our group’s influx, the owner has to prepare extra kebabs. In the open kitchen at the front, the meat and onions are freshly ground. The preparation of the skewers can also be followed. Fun to see this in action. Afterwards, we continue through the Kurdish landscape towards Takab. Takab is a small provincial town. When I arrive around six, I am quite exhausted from the bus journey. I lie down on the bed for a while. The rooms are simple, but better than the Lonely Planet had suggested. There is a lot of noise from the street. Looking out of the window, I see dark clouds approaching. The wind has also picked up considerably. It’s a good thing I decided to eat at the hotel. During dinner, a storm rages outside. Trees sway back and forth, large amounts of sand blow through the streets. The front door is kept shut by wedging two chairs against it. My pizza tastes excellent.