After an early breakfast I get some help to back the bike up the steps through the narrow doorway in the Silk Road Hotel. I stop in Meybod, just North of Yazd, and have a look around the old part of the city.

The Sassannian Narein castle opens at a leisurely 9am and I climb to the top of it.

In the courtyard is a little mud brick construction facility. Some of the standard mud brick architectural features have been built en miniature which allows to study the ancient construction techniques.

I ride along the desert road, braking for camels when I need to (yes, there really are camels crossing the road).

Next to the road I spot a bunch of old caravansaries and I stop for lunch. I munch some of the European style bread I bought in Yazd with fresh feta. Couldn’t believe my eyes when I found that store in Yazd. I explore the caravansaries a bit

and continue through the desert.

I actually want to go to the small mountain village of Abyaneh and see a sign just South of Natanz. When it is time to head West according to my map I am surrounded by anti aircraft guns camouflaged in the desert and no sealed road in sight. No doubt they are here to proctect the nearby nuclear facilities in Natanz. I don’t want to take a dirt road going through there. I don’t feel like arguing with some officials in the desert heat. By the time I’m clear of the military installments I’m almost in Kashan and I decide to forget about the mountain village. I find a room in one of the historical houses.

My room is far enough away from the other rooms in the house that I can sleep with the door wide open without causing any offense. Nice to have a cold breeze during the night.

A few kilometers from Kashan is Fin Garden, a tranquil place with many fountains, pools, and water channels.

Kashan is blessed with a number of very large Qajar era houses with the typical over the top style of the that period.

Kahn-e Borujerdi:

Kahn-e Ameriha:

Kahn-e Tabatabei:

Nearby is the old city wall and and an ice house.

Some dark clouds are moving in.

The Haman-e Sultan Mir Ahmad is a large, restored, historical bathhouse with a very feisty woman at the ticket desk. I guess the poster reminding women to adhere to the Islamic dress code wasn’t there by accident.

The roof of the Haman with its many domes is very photogenic.

Later in the day a thunder storm brings strong winds and a bit of rain.

The mural is a bit creepy.

In the afternoon I mingle with the election campaigners again.

Some of the election posters:

The Kamal-ol-Molk square fountain with modern LED lighting puts on a show of ever changing colors.

I return to my hotel around 10pm.

I let myself out of the Hotel at 5:30 and hit the scenic road from Kashan to Delijan right after sun rise.

In Delijan a man in plain clothes on a police bike asks me to turn off my light. Iranians are strong believers in wearing out your light bulbs. I get the sign to turn off my lights dozens of times a day. On the upside it means it really works and they actually see me. This is the first time I got stopped for it though. I make him understand that there is no switch. He is convinced easily enough and escorts me out of the city, which saves quite a bit of time.

Before joining the main highway I ride a dirt road down to a river for my breakfast stop. I see an old East German W50 truck and take a picture and chat with the driver a bit . Now I know what happened to all of these

Two religious students on their way to Qom have their picnic stuff out and invite me for tea and breakfast. The food is great but the conversation turns weird very soon. When they find out that I’m German they ask if I’m Arian, which happens a lot here. Iran actually means Arian. So than they go on to say Hitler was a great man, which I have heard here (and elsewhere) a few times before. These two actually take a step further and start listing the names of Hitlers generals. All great man according to them. I wonder which history book they are studying. Something like this is always disturbing but there is not much I can do about it. So I just thank them for the breakfast and move on.

The old highway next to the new Autobahn (that’s what they call the tollways here) is filled with diesel exhaust belching trucks and I decide to try the Autobahn next time, although it is not allowed for motorbikes.

I arrive in Qazvin after noon but the only restaurant I can find is hosting a wedding. So I just grab some snacks, get gas and move on, trying to find the road to the Alamut valley. Most locals have never heard of it, others send me in circles, one guy is certain and sends me down the wrong road. I turn around after a few kilometers and ask again for directions. I end up on the Autobahn and get on and off dirt tracks at the side of it to ask again and again for directions. Eventually I find the road and get escorted a bit by a guy with an Elvis hairdo on a 200cc Enduro.

It is a fantastic ride with lots of switchbacks but its late in the day and very hazy and I’m afraid the pictures don’t do the place justice and I don’t take enough to begin with.

I take a side road to Lake Ovan and I’m blown away by what I see.

I decide to stay here for the night. I find a nice spot by the water and set up my tent. While I’m cooking my dinner two kids show up and ask the usual questions. One of them seems weird and keeps playing with my pannier locks. He is trying to sell me fish, rice, rocks from Alamut castle and who knows what else. He asks me if I have guns to protect myself from the “wild animals”. I tell him I have two. He then grabs my sun glasses and thinks he should keep them. I get up and get them back and tell him to leave. He asks for money and I just tell him to leave again. I don’t have a good feeling about this guy. I turn the perimeter alarm on the bike on and get everything, including boots and stove inside the tent.