DAY SEVENTEEN… Sightseeing in Yazd
A large breakfast, not only just a buffet but also ordering from the menu too. Ali has some plans for a ‘day of sightseeing’, I think he called it a city tour.
We started at a nearby mosque, one with very tall minarets. Very beautiful, but by now we were starting to get a “yet another mosque” syndrome.
Then we headed for the Amir Chakhmagh Mosque, doing our best not to stop and look in the shops of the bazaar. In the square in front of the mosque, there were frantic preparations for President Hassan Rouhani’s immanent visit, though no one knew when; a state secret for security reasons. Platforms were being erected and crowd control fences were all around the main areas of the mosque.
To one side of the mosque were large beautiful wind towers, all part of the carefully designed system of keeping the town cool. Underground is a series of water cisterns and tunnels too, to bring water from afar for irrigation to the city.
Unfortunately, Suzi was admiring the architecture, but not noticing where she was going and she fell into a very large hole in the pavement where a tree should have been. No broken bones, thank goodness, but she has strained her ankle, I think. She was unable to get to the Zoroastrian fire temple that we were headed for, so Anna and Suzi went back to the hotel in a taxi, leaving Ali, Mike, Barb and Tim and I to look around the place. There was a central fire that had been kept alight for thousands of years. Very sacred place.
It was our last supper with Mike and Barb. They were headed for Ireland, and it was sad to see them go. They have been really good company. Mike has been amazingly supportive to everyone, especially when they were struggling, and has kept a brave face through all the trials and tribulations of the journey. Barb is simply amazing. She’s not a dedicated cyclist but has set herself this challenge, which has challenged her in many ways, not just the weather but the length of rides, the elevations, the clothes….. they are due to leave tomorrow morning so we had a bit of a get together after supper. And , in keeping with tradition, they wrote and sang us a song about our travels “We’ve been through the desert on a Bike with no name…”. We drank borage tea and reminisced.