It was five in the morning and the train came into the station. After our journey in the north of the country, and many days in Tehran punctuated with numerous visits to the Indian embassy for our visas, there we were at last in this town which the name alone makes people dream: Esfahan! Well, almost…A fellow traveller guided us from bus to bus and to a majestic bridge, which guards the entry of the city. The sun rose, we started crossing. The big stone arches on both sides of the bridge give a view on the large Zayandeh River, which flows in the middle of green parks.

We stepped onto a big avenue that has a central path in bloom; the gardeners were bustling about already. We found a bedroom in a hotel, in spite of the early hour. We took the rest needed to start the tour of ‘half of the world’. This is the nickname of the city bestowed by a French poet who had fallen under its spell in the 16th century.

During this first day, the visit became ever greater: first, the Hakim mosque, the oldest in Esfahan. I sang a little under the dome. With such an echo, the imams did not need microphones! The walk continued across the bazaar. We had the feeling of having entered an underground city. Sheltered by high brick vaults, we went through the maze of dark and cool laneways…and completely empty that day: Thursday, first day of the weekend. What a strange feeling in a place usually so lively!
                               Bazar-e-Bozorg, Esfahan

We emerged from this long tunnel, a bit dazzled, in front of the Shah Jame’ mosque (the biggest in Iran). It was built with the passing centuries and dynasties, the latter having left their imprint. In the inner courtyard, four iwans* each more beautiful than the other. However, we preferred wandering through the forest of pillars that support the building in the shadow and silence of the adjoining rooms. It opens the way towards the huge domes that stand at each end.
                                  Jame’ Mosque, Esfahan

At the exit of the mosque, temptation was waiting for us: the fruit market and all these delicious delicacies of which Iran alone has the secret. Not far from there, we found the bird market in a very small courtyard where hundreds of cages were piled up. The tropical birds were next to the hens, and multicoloured chicks were squeezed up in big card boxes. What a strange racket!
 
After passing again under the shelter of vaults in the bazaar, we arrived without expecting it on the Imam Square (or Shah Square). It was grandiose! We were lost in wonder in front of this huge rectangular complex edged with arcades (the second biggest square in the world after Tiananmen Square in Beijing). In its centre, it has a fountain around which are laid out perfectly kept parks. Families meet there to picnic or chat. Female students were installed there to draw the splendours that are the pride and joy of the country: the Imam Mosque and the Sheikh Lotf Allah Mosque of which the turquoise domes sparkle under the sun.
                  The Imam Square

We went on the terrace of a teahouse. What a surprise! It was the first time since we had started our trip that European tourists surrounded us. Like them, we were enjoying the unrestricted view of the scene that seemed like something from a tale of the Arabian Nights. Maybe this was the feeling that Shah Abbas the Great wanted to give to the people visiting the new capital town. The Imam Mosque is probably the showpiece of this square. When coming from behind its high doors, we did not know where to look anymore with such beauty and harmony around us. We were frenetically taking pictures in front of the mosaics, the domes, the minarets, the vaults, etc. We continued under the dome of its neighbouring building, the Loft Allah Mosque. Birds had invited themselves. We followed with our eyes their flight between the flowers and the poems calligraphed in Persian letters.
                     The Imam Mosque

In the middle of all these treasures of the past, Esfahan lives in the present. We enjoyed the calm of the big parks where chess games are organised beside the self-service bodybuilding machines. We tasted the atmosphere of a sunny weekend, where families migrate along the river to spend the day under the shade of the trees with everything they need for a picnic. Quite often, you would find yourself invited for tea. Some people were resting, reading or studying, while others went for a ride on pedal boats under the big stone bridges. It felt almost like a summer’s Sunday along the Marne River…
 
Gabrielle

* Hall voûté ouvert sur une cour intérieure

(Plus d'images des merveilles d'Ispahan dans l'album photos)