There's a caravanserai halfway along the road (where to?). I read that somewhere. No, not in the travel guide. Maybe on Instagram? I can't remember. So after 4 hours on the bumpy motorway, I ask Gerd to stop at this caravanserai. A quick look should be enough for us. Maybe we'll even get a cup of tea, that would be nice.
The internet says the following: The Deyr-e Gachin Caravanserai in Iran, located in the centre of the Kavir National Park, is sometimes referred to as the "Mother of Iranian Caravanserais" because of its history and uniqueness. Originally built in the Sassanid period (around the first century), it was expanded and restored over the centuries, including the Seljuk, Safavid and Kajar periods. This historic site was an important resting place for travellers and traders on the Silk Road. It is one of 54 Persian caravanserais listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
"Gerd, let's take a break here." Unfortunately, we miss the exit from the motorway. They tend to be so sandy and sloping here and poorly signposted. But Gerd, my new chauffeur, knows his way around: He simply turns off the motorway and drives the few metres back on the hard shoulder. Hallelujah. I hope our mums don't read this.
The caravanserai is locked, but after a gentle knock on the large gate, it is opened. We have to show our passports and are registered. Well, you get used to everything. But we would never have dreamed of what awaits us now.
We meet a group of artists who have been running this caravanserai for around 8 years. There is a small café, a restaurant and a meditation room, which was originally a mosque. There are a few small hotel rooms in the former traders' niches and the atmosphere is really good. The young people live here together, some only at weekends, some permanently.
We immediately feel at home, ask if we can spend the night outside and whether we can also have dinner here. Sure, you can feel like our overnight guests here! Have a look around, ask questions, be curious and enjoy your time here!
After a coffee and some oriental-flavoured hot milk (cinnamon, cardamom and other magic ingredients guaranteed!), we stroll through the caravanserai. We are shown all the special features, it's a bit like a guided tour. Simply a dream.
We are a little tired and would like to rest. But we don't get the chance because the next travellers arrive from Tehran. We immediately strike up a conversation - we never get bored here.
On one of the small balconies in front of the rooms, I don't know what to call it, one of the young men has set up a small mobile hairdressing salon. He is now cutting hair and trimming beards. I ask him if he would mind straightening my fringes a little (my nail clipper cuts always look so crooked), and I immediately climb into the historic alcove, get a cape and of course it doesn't stop at the fringes. The ends of my hair, which he says is far too dry, also need to be cut. So off we go! We get talking and find out that my hairdresser is half Iranian, half Iraqi and I don't have to haggle with him over the price. He doesn't want anything. My goodness, will we be able to pay for it ourselves one day?
Suddenly there's a call from the kitchen: dinner's ready. The veggie burger tastes fantastic. The patty looks dark green, is there spinach in it? I have no idea, our cook can only tell me in Persian, and we don't have the internet here to translate, so it will remain a secret forever.
After dinner, we sit down with the others in the café, drink a whole pot of tea, I knit and we chat with the guests and the artists. Two tables away, two young men unpack their instruments. They look like guitars, long and thin. We later learn that the instruments are called setar and tanbour. One of the boys starts to play and we immerse ourselves in the magic of traditional Persian music. And then it happens: a power cut. We are all sitting in the dark, with only a small mobile phone light to illuminate the musicians. And we listen.
How magical can an evening like this be?
The second musician starts to play and suddenly a singer joins in. Wow, goose bumps. He sings in a deep voice, the tones correspond in the high round vault of the caravanserai as if in a perfectly polished philharmonic orchestra. It could go on like this for hours. And it does, the young men keep taking turns, we keep listening to the instruments or the singing. When I later ask for the names of the instruments, I am immediately told that Mohamad Javad Lotfi is a first-class singing teacher. What kind of paradise are we in here?
We move one table closer, the two women from Tehran have a small heater at the table. That does us good. We chat during the music breaks and learn so much about the young people in Iran. Of course we are invited to Tehran.
As the musicians take their leave, we also leave the small café. A few minutes later we are standing in the inner courtyard of the caravanserai by two large campfires and experience the next magic. A group of young people are standing around the fire, one woman seems to be known for her baking and cooking skills. We soon find out exactly what this means. We try chocolates, cakes and vegetables with her special dip. Every group should have a gourmet with them, we think.
We talk briefly about the music of the men who have enchanted us. The group smiles knowingly, they also enjoyed the evening in the café. And suddenly Farnnaz starts to sing. The fire crackles softly and, without any instrumental accompaniment, this little woman sings an interpretation of an Adelle song that brings tears to our eyes. Not that we aren't already Adelle fans. But in this setting, millions of stars above us in the night sky, the fire is reflected in Farnnaz's eyes and her voice fills the whole caravanserai and with it our hearts!
Simply wow!
Shortly before midnight, we get a short introduction to astronomy and use the large handheld telescope to look at all kinds of constellations. I forgot which ones in the emotional excitement of the evening.
As we fall into bed in the evening, we gratefully try to think about what can happen when you just want to have a cup of tea in a caravanserai. And honestly? You can't make it up!
Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dayr-e_Gachin // https://www.instagram.com/deyregachin/
Singer by the fire: https://www.instagram.com/farnnaz.s/
Merci for "travelling with us
We are thinking about taking another break from travelling in the summer and visiting our families in Germany and Switzerland. One of the ideas is to organise a Lecture about our long journey to the Persian Gulf to prepare. If you would like to, what would interest you the most? We will also tell stories here that don't find a place here on the blog. We're thinking of the Bern and Berlin area - simply because we have family there. But other places are also conceivable. Feel free to write to us.
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What marvellous luck you have. 👍🍀
Thank you for sharing. 😘
And Gerd:
The driving instructor's heart bleeds! 😂🤣
No.
Not in such countries.
I've also been retired since 1 February and now I have to learn that I don't care about some nonsensical laws and traffic signs. 😁😇
Have a safe journey! 🤗