Sat 22:30

Fin Garden (follow the road SE as far as it goes) was quite pleasant if only for actually having some water sloshing about the place -- think a rectangluar Diana memorial but with a couple of beatiful pools where the water wells up. The water is apparently heavily laden with mercury though that hasn't done the fish or plants any harm.

I'd run up there in jeans and T-shirt as it was a quiet moment and an easy enough stretch of road. Other than my T-shirt suddenly vibrating with the wind at 50mph it felt no cooler than when fully togged up. One thing being fully togged up does do it deflect the heat of the exhaust! Yowser! No wonder the poor thermometer complains of being 44C at times (and it's no where near the exhaust).

I trundled through the bazaar and took a peek at some of the larger domed spaces and on towards the "historical houses" (C19 merchants' houses). Not much to see on the outside -- something for tomorrow morning. The old citadel walls are being washed away by the rains.

I passed a barbers and popped in. I'm guessing a hand-signal pidgin-English miscommunication is why I now have a Kashan crew cut. This seems to have garnered even more stares -- I'm guessing as people are impressed by the fine bone structure of my head...

I passed a cakey shop after dinner and was sorely tempted (but resisted). Whilst I've been in Iran I've had no beer and a streaming nose plus whooping cough of a cold that I'm just about shaking off. It's the latter which, I believe, has made my trousers increase in size thus giving the impression that all foreign men wear their trousers round their ankles. Women wearing a chador might be forced to use one hand to keep the cloak closed, I have to use one hand to keep my trousers up. I've been looking for a belt but none fit my minimalist requirements. Men's fashion in Iran involves far too much bling.