Shiraz, Persepolis & Naqsh-e Rostam
Day 4: Monday 21 May 2000
This morning we meet Parviz, our guide in Shiraz. He is a pleasant fellow of 49 who looks 10 years younger. He says that he was in electronics for 18 years and then taught himself history and became a guide. I wonder if that is the full story (it isn't - see later). Anyway, he is of the better sort of guide, full of interesting insights into things rather than the type who mindlessly recites facts ("the walls of the city were constructed in 1143 and are 9.73 metres in height, and contain 105 cubic metres of earth...").
We drive north to Persepolis (see here for a sort of historical overview). Disappointingly - and I am conscious that it may sound churlish to say this - I find there is no "fuck off moment", no jaw-dropping view or moment that makes one think "Wow!" It is rather a series of interesting details, but there is no grand view, no sweeping, awe-inspiring vista. On the other hand it did have a feeling of diversity which I had not expected. For example, the base of many of the columns were upturned lotus flowers, while the capitals were multi-layered and apparently incorporating elements from all parts of the Achaemenian empire.
The procession of the tributes is also in this vein, with different groups from all over the empire bearing their particular specialities to the Great King. I especially like the two fellows carrying snarling and mewling lion cubs, and various others with rather outlandish jackets and pointy-toed shoes.
Aside: it is at about this point that we first saw the Leica Fairy, a man of mincing gait, white linen suit, foppish quasi-Panama hat and the world's supply of Leica gear, including 2 M6s, an R8 and loads of lenses. He scurries around snapping at everything, but one has the distinct impression that he is not really looking at or, at least, seeing things.
There is even rather a fun moment when an old bi-plane buzzes very low over the ruins. Perhaps another Indiana Jones film in the making?
We leave Mehdi and Parviz to enjoy a cup of tea in the shade and climb up the hill overlooking the site. Again, the view is rather disappointing. We have our picture taken by and with an Iranian youth and two girls, then descend to the museum which is built on the site of and as facsimile of one of the original buildings. My favourites: the cuneiform tablet setting out Xerxes' rather reasonable and modest statement of his credo; and a big brass trumpet.
Naqsh-e Rostam, however, has ostensibly far less to see but is definitely a "fuck-off" place (sorry, no pictures scanned yet). It is the spot about 2 miles or so from Persepolis where the kings were traditionally laid to rest in gigantic tombs set into and carved out of the living rock. The setting itself is imposing and there is a certain indefinable feel of something momentous, almost other-wordly about the place (a little like Egypt, if you will).
Standing on a mound overlooking the tombs, Parviz explains them to us. Rather good to see the Romans getting the worst of it for once, in a bas-relief of Philip surrendering to one of the Sassanid kings. A bizarre Zoroastrian fire temple rises out of a hole in the ground, looking a little like a World War II pill-box, yet over 2,500 years old. There are more bas-reliefs a little way to the left of the main site (as you look at the main tombs), along with a large yellow-tailed lizard and a bird resembling a wood-pecker.
We have lunch at a pleasant enough little restaurant with an ornamental pool, large sycamores and the usual rudimentary plumbing. I advise Cat to wait until we return to the hotel.
After a siesta, we go to the Masjed-é Vakil, a large and exquisite mosque with a vast open space and a beautiful hall of 48 pillars with spiral fluting and very delicate brickwork. Almost completely deserted.
Then into the bazaar — looking at rugs and gabbeh. We go into an old caravanserai and buy a book a photos of Iran and two copies of a cassette by Mosaffer (the traveller). We have dinner in the hotel that night with Mehti, followed by a fitful night’s sleep after calling Georgia (Neli telling Cat that Fred’s secretary had called 5 times).