It was another horrendously early start as I made my way, sleepily, to the main bus station, again several kilometres out of town. I caught the 7.30am bus to Yazd, though it was for the most part falling apart and reminded me of something you might see patrolling the Indian highways rather than Iran's.

The scenery was rather bland as we headed into Iran's scrubland desert for the Oasis town of Yazd. The houses changed from modern styles to rather lower level mud-brick houses, blending into the desert scenery. It was only a seven hour journey, but it was hot, sweaty and generally uncomfortable. As we sauntered on through countless villages, the scenery remained bland, broken only by the occasionaly dry tree or shrub. I could hardly complain though and passing a couple of ruined houses, presumably caravanserais, was reminded that in the days of the Silk Road this sort of flat terrain was probably considered a piece of cake despite the scorching heat.

I made it to Yazd and elected to stay in the appropriately named "Silk Road Hotel", with rooms set around a delightful courtyard and fountain. It was probably the nicest hotel so far. Though slightly pricier than I had wanted, a bit of bargaining made it reasonable. A French guy called Jeremie was smoking outside and after a refreshing cup of tea (though I could have killed for an alcoholic beer) we wandered into the old mud-brick city and got lost wandering. But there was never any worry as scores of people and children always were on hand to point us in the right direction. A couple of kids decided that the two of us would have to beat beat them in order to pass. We lost 9-10, but given our disadvantage the kids decided it was good enough for them to show us out.