I was genuinely sad to be leaving Yazd after 4 great days. It felt like it had been ages since I'd enjoyed somewhere so much and it reminded me of my friends in Selcuk, Turkey, again. I walked accorss the yard to have my breakfast and found Evan, a new guy called Zak and a rather sour woman from Germany (whose name I never got but who decided to play the know-it-all). It was too early for me to argue as to who was the more suppressed in Iran: Women because of the strict dress laws, enforcement of the Hejab and submission to their husband, or men who were not allowed to talk to let alone make physical contact with women who were not family. Still it is amazing to notice here that unmarried guys tend to stick with themselves and unmarried women do the same. Only families are mixed when you see them walking the streets or picnicking in the park. I suppose it explains why men have more physical affection for eachother than most places - they are constantly shaking hands with each other and kissing eachother on the cheeks. In Europe this might seem rather odd, but here it's common. Indeed it also explains the giggling that follows when a brave girl in a group comes up to me and says a quick "hello" before diappearing behind her vail and back into the crowd. As quickly as she has broken the "law", she reverts to her conformist self. And if this seems restrained then I am told that Iran is very liberal compared to say Yemen or Saudi Arabia or even Pakistan.

I took one last wander around Yazd, finally changing my money. Here $120 makes you a millionaire and your 6 $20 bills is turned into a wadge of over 100 bills. I paid my hotel bill and said goodbye to the friendly guys at the hotel and took a taxi to the Terminal to catch my bus to Esfahan. The fact that the bus was mis-labelled an "express" bus was amusing. It actually took almost twice as long as it should to get to Esfahan with the driver deciding to stop continuously and argue with the passangers onboard.

Nevertheless we rolled into Esfahan at aroun 10pm and I took another taxi to the Amir Kabir Hotel. In short I had found the Iranian equivalent of Fawlty Towers.Most things didn't work too well, the "Manuel" at reception repeatedly misunderstood me, the rooms attempt at some "class" fail when the fridge is warm, the TV fuzzy (though I don't understand any of the Farsi channels), lack curtains and certainly doesn't have much of a view. The shared bathroom really isn't big enough to drown a mouse in. If only I could meet the manager who I gather is conveniently away.

The barren, surrounding desert near Yazd