Tuesday, June 2, 2015

On the Way to Yazd

In the morning we drove about three hours from Isfahan to Meybod. This city was made of mud bricks and at least 1,800 years old.  Narein Castle, a crumbling, romantic ruin worn down by the desert winds was in the very center of the city. Climbing to the top of the castle, I saw dramatic, sweeping views of the city of Meybod below.











After lunch in Meybod we drove through the Dasht-e Kavir desert, beautiful mountain scenery unfolded from every turn of the road. On arrival at Chak Chak, we began to climb up and up and up steep sets of stairs towards Iran’s most important Zoroastrian pilgrimage site. 

About half way up I stopped to rest and enjoy the view of the surrounding mountains.  A group of guys from Yazd ask me where I am from and how do I like Iran.  I told them "I like Iran very much, the people are so nice.  But, shit, it seems like every site we go to involves climbing steep stairs or mountains. Or both!"  At this they burst out laughing.  Later coming back down the mountain, they stopped Milad and I.  They were still laughing. I asked them what was so funny.  They managed to choke out between guffaws, "you said the word shit." 






Milad told us the legend of Chak Chak, the story of Nikbanou, a princess who fled the Arab invasion in 640 CE and came to this place to hide. She prayed to the Zoroastrian god, Ahura Mazda, to protect her and the mountain opened up to shelter her. Needing water and finding none, she threw her staff at the cliff. Water sprung from the spot and has been dripping ever since, making the sound “chak, chak.”





I took my shoes off and entered the man made grotto through large bronze doors. Part of the cliff face formed the back wall and the glass front wall offered dramatic views of the rugged mountain landscape. A huge ancient tree (Nikbanou’s cane) grew from the cliff near the spring. The sanctuary walls were blackened from burning fires and a lotus shaped table where candles burn was in the middle of the grotto. It was a quiet and peaceful place.








While on the way to Yazd, we made a stop late in the afternoon at Kharanaq, another old village. Believed to have been occupied for more than four thousand years, it seemed virtually deserted the day we visit. The only inhabitants we saw were an old man and a donkey. It was eerie and the ruins of some of the mud brick structures form a maze that one could easily get lost in. After looking around for an hour, we get in the van and continue on towards Yazd. 


















We arrived at night in Yazd and checked into the Orient Hotel, an old traditional house converted into a very atmospheric hotel. Our exploration of the desert city of Yazd would have to wait until the next morning.




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