I can feel myself piling on weight from all the good food and the yummy-but-not-so-good food. I vowed to eat less today and took an egg and some bread from breakfast. The idea was to get a side salad to go with it and call it lunch.
I set off at 0830 by foot across the Si-o-se bridge for the Vank Cathedral. Most of the walk was shaded either by the bridge, buildings or the city’s numerous trees.
The entry ticket was IRR300K including the museum, more than the standard IRR200K for the city’s main sights. The St Joseph of Arimathea Cathedral, as it is officially called, was just stunning inside. My memory must fail me as I recall the murals inside being rather amateurish but I’m dead wrong.
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- Vank Cathedral (St Joseph of Arimathea) is the spiritual heart for the Armenian Christians in Esfahan.
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- Vank Cathedral (St Joseph of Arimathea) is the spiritual heart for the Armenian Christians in Esfahan.
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- The interior of the Vank Cathedral is stunning beautiful.
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- The interior of the Vank Cathedral is stunning beautiful.
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- The interior of the Vank Cathedral is stunning beautiful.
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- The interior of the Vank Cathedral is stunning beautiful.
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- The interior of the Vank Cathedral is stunning beautiful; the main dome.
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- I’ve never seen a urinal in Iran. There are only toilet cubicles. One possible reason is that from a religious point of view, standing for this form of excretion does not meet with best practice. [Anyone who can advise on this please post comments below.] So at the Armenian Cathedral, I was pleased to see urinals only to be disappointed that they had been removed. I wonder if they’re undergoing maintenance … or if the building inspectors deemed them non-compliant with the laws of the land.
I continued to the museum where there was a collection of various things including gospels, one dating back to the 10th Century. Also in the compound was an Armenian genocide memorial.
I wandered back through Jolfa Square near the cathedral; the area is where many Esfahani Armenians live. It had a different laid back feel with narrow streets, wide pavements and nice low-rise buildings.
Back in my room, I had my relatively healthy and light lunch and stayed in till the evening, enjoying the comfort of my hotel room. It felt too cold and I turned the air-con off. Despite the 35 degC heat outside, it was comfortable for most of the time indoors. What a contrast to Malaysia where the humidity would make it so uncomfortable despite a lower temperature.
At iftar, I opted for a light dinner at the Abbasi Hotel having seen soup being served there at the traditional tea hous. It was called Ash Reshteh and was a mix of noodles, beans, blended green vegetables in a thick soup. It wasn’t as light as I had expected, which was probably a good thing, making it more sustaining.
As the price of tea or ice cream here is cheaper than at a convenience store back in New Zealand, it would seem like a crime to not have one or the other. So I opted for ice cream tonight, sans faludeh. I couldn’t get the man to explain the flavour but it tasted of rose and the colour yellow suggested saffron, and the pistachios were obvious. So, all three elements were quintessentially Iranian. Perhaps, the other quintessentially Iranian flavour I can concoct could be dates, fig and caviar?
Leaving satisfied, I noticed the street outside the hotel was warmer than the courtyard. Must be the grass, partial shade and water in the courtyard that keeps it cooler despite being open to the elements as well.
I saw a foreign cyclist wearing knee-length shorts, waiting outside a hotel on my walk back. I chatted to him briefly and learnt that shorts are OK for sports (as I’ve seen Iran’s sports teams on TV). He puts longs on as soon as he’s not with the bike. And this was confirmed by another cycle tourist I met later. In fact, there’s quite a few of them around. I had met three already and as a proportion of total foreigners I’ve met, that’s a lot!