Hotelnet: Wed 18:55

Carrying on with last night's tale, I joined up again with S&P, two FR guys on a ten day whizz through IR using taxis everywhere as per the LP instructions. We were sat down for some food when we were approached by, it's hard to deny, a rather attractive Dootch woman looking for extra people to join the three of them on their walking trip into the desert with the "million star hotel" included.

I've had the good fortune to sleep in the desert twice before in Egypt -- on both occasions the night was spent being sand blasted by the desert winds but it was an experience -- and was in no mood for trudging through a desert beforehand so allowed myself to concentrate on the marketing skills (possibly physical rather than verbal) of the NLer. After the first interruption, the guys revealed that NLers were generally regarded as being a bit tight-fisted and would go to great lengths to save a euro. S&P had considered such a trip but for whatever reason discounted it beforehand. Here it was coming up again with some complications due to S&Pneeding to get to Shiraz on Thursday (via Persepolis) for S to fly out on Friday. They didn't want to give the NLer a easy ride.

The NLer wasn't giving us an easy ride either and interrupted us several times wanting to know how the thinking was going. P was, as it turns out, somewhat less enthusiastic about trudging through the desert than S and was coming over all negative despite S' enthusiasm and my objective neutrality (I kept describing being sand blasted through the night as an experience you'd always talk about...).

So this ding dong went back and forth all evening and eventually culminated in the tour organiser being called over to explain that the walking would not involve any villages or man-made components and would be through a plain desert (ie. dead) ending up in a "lively" canyon (I think he meant full of nature) that might quite possibly be full of flies too. Quite how this description managed to change P's mind, I do not know but he suddenly did and there was a further to-ing and fro-ing checking that they could leave camp early to get a taxi via Persepolis to Shiraz at a sensible hour etc.. I had to suffer the NLer during this (or rather she me) where it turns out they were recently graduated lawyers (international law, I think) and were doing a three month trip through Iran and the Middle East. Not your average gap year types.

So, there we were at gone 11pm and S&P and the NLers due to get up before 5am. Enjoy!

When I rolled out of bed this morning (no giant cockroach in my hotel slipper, phew!) at 8-ish I was the only person around for breakfast. Hamid then asked me about computing and in particular Artificial Intelligence (AI). I'm not sure my description of AI having achieved nothing that might match any sci-fi description of AI quite washed with him as he was interested in AI yet still had fears of Skynet taking over the world -- ain't gonna happen for a while, sonny. I don't think he was taken by my view that computing hasn't moved forward in thirty years either (smaller and faster CPUs hasn't changed computing only the opportunity for applications).

The young woman (on the staff) who was there as well then wanted to know what the Pussycat Dolls were saying in the lyrics of one of their songs as they were singing too fast for her to translate. I then had to explain the freedom that Western woman have and expect to have. The conversation then changed on to various music types including snippets of banned artists in IR (sounded like Euro-pop to me).

She, however, did give some directions to a shop that sold some interesting looking potential gifts. I should go to Azadi Square and ask anyone for "Hoshemi" and "Tormeh" and job done. Some gardens were also recommended.

I headed out looking first for some jerry cans. Round the first corner a man passed me and said behind his hand "All IRs are terrorists!" I turned round rather surprised. He'd continued on but had stopped and turned too, smiled and laughed and came and said hello. He then proceeded to be my guide for the next two hours on my hunt for a jerry can. His training in mathematics had led to a job in welding which he'd given up because he'd work like a donkey and earn $5000 a year.

We went to the hotel-suggested purveyor of plastic goods where the options were limited. We then headed for a garage but stopped at a motor factors where the question of a can for carrying fuel was (as predicted my my man) met with a blank stare. I indicated that a plastic oil tub would be fine and we were sent downstairs where the mechanics produced one empty 3.75l one.

We washed that out with fuel at the garage and headed off in search of another. We found another mechanic's shop but the mechanic was not to be found. A neighbouring shop keeper seemed to think it would be ok if we took a handy empty oil can by the door (another 3.75l). We washed that out with fuel as well polluting the environment (sorry!) in the process.

What a nice bloke, I never even caught his name. He did have some peculiar belief that all IRs were thieves and liars and finally explained his terrorists remark. I think he was being a bit harsh on his fellow IRs.

I dropped those off at the hotel and set out for Azadi Sq. which I found indirectly having turned the wrong way at a critical junction (can't blame the LP for that). I then proceeded to ask a dozen people over the next hour or so only one of whom (early on) recognized what I was trying to say -- and said something remarkably similar but obviously different that I couldn't repeat -- and sent me off up the road. However, the remaining people I asked looked like I was talking Dutch, which I might well have been. An hour wandering around the environs of Azadi Sq to no avail.

I headed off for some gardens which I managed to circle completely before finding the entrance. They were to the usual IR standard. There was a (terrific according to the LP) pavilion, a water feature, some trees and that's about it. The IRs seem to think that is very beautiful though I don't have to live on the edge of a desert so my standards might be slightly higher.

A long (longer than necessary having taken a short-cut through the bazaar and gotten lost) trek back to the hotel and a banana shake and some chay.