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A car-carrier truck steams north toward nearby Yazd. Iran is a major automaker, manufacturing both domestic and French vehicles for Iran’s large domestic population and the foreign market prior to sanctions.
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A family outing in Yazd doesn’t include helmets.
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Our hotel in Yazd included a delightful rooftop restaurant.
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The minarets of the famous Jame Mosque of Yazd are the
dominant landmark of the city.
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The Yazd visit coincided with the Shiite holy day of Friday and also of Ashura, an Islamic holiday. Hussein’s explanation of Ashura was confusing at best; we did understand that it was triggered by a schism between the Sunnis and Shias occurring in 661 AD though, more importantly, unlimited food was heavily involved for the masses today.
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Throughout the day giant vats stew on the fires in front of Jame Mosque as
Ashura is celebrated.
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Wind catchers tower over Pakistani tourists visiting Yazd. Wind catchers are designed for cross-ventilation and passive cooling and are especially prevalent
in this toasty city.
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The skyline of Yazd is a mix of domes, minarets, and wind catchers.
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At the Omid (Hope) Photography shop patrons wait for results of their recent snap-shooting in hopes that all developed satisfactorily.
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Perhaps it takes more than daily push-ups to attain the chassis advertised
outside a gym in Yazd.
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Government propaganda is presented in creative ways.
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Uncle Sam looks particularly nasty in this propaganda billboard.
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A long staircase leads to the Tower of Silence where Zoroastrians once left deceased bodies for excarnation. The bodies were placed in an elevated circular pit for birds to chow down upon before the bones were placed elsewhere.
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The desert city of Yazd stretches below the Tower of Silence.
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Throughout Iran these images pervade public consciousness by seemingly following everyone around on billboards, building walls, elsewhere, everywhere.
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Public art sculptures in Yazd appear to be overseen by authorities.
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Our resourceful friend Hussein finally discovered a non-alcoholic beer in Yazd that met the exacting standards of a Canadian beer snob. Unfortunately this excellent brew was never seen again in Iran.
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This old boy is no stranger to the arid climes of central Iran.
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The origins of a biker gang in deepest Yazd.
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More idle youth gather, spoiling for a group photo.
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Walking anywhere alone with camera in hand was never a problem in Iran. Occasionally someone (always male) with rudimentary English would use me as target practice for trying out a phrase or three and asking to be photographed. As in most countries perceived as malevolent there is a significant discrepancy between the hostility of the government and the attitude of the person on the street. This is especially true in Iran today. Another “then&there” will detail the next stop along the way, Esfehan, the jewel of Iran.
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A dance troupe pose comfortably for a foreigner’s curiosity at Dowlatabad Garden in Yazd. Throughout Iran people were surprisingly and consistently
comfortable being photographed.
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A proud father cradles his young daughter at Dowlatabad Garden.
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At twilight the Ashura feast nears completion.
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At a desert caravan outside Yazd a mother offers a snack to her daughter.
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Beside the highway just northwest of Yazd a vendor displays an array of pomegranates. Pomegranates and pistachios are ubiquitous throughout Iran.
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