We will spend a good part of the day in paradise – the one for everything truck mechanics, that is – moving from workshop to workshop to repair a little of everything: belt tightening, mudguard repair, air system, tire interchanging… A not so sexy environment, but we are a bit too far from Isfahan to consider going for a ride.

As we get ready to leave, Mustaba, who has been very helpful, invites us for dinner. This hospitality and pleasure to receive foreigners, with just a few words of English, it’s almost crazy! No ta-root for us, (Iranian tradition of refusing three times a gift or an invitation before accepting), we will spend the evening in Nehzat Abad, with the 3 generations of the friendly family, that also offers us to stay for the night.

But, we are now way farther away from Isfahan, better get closer tonight to avoid traffic jam the next day. We stumble upon an empty parking lot, a 15-minute walk from the Naqsh-e Jahan Square, unexpected.

Our urban « bivouac » city is packed with cars the next day, but we only have to move to limit the inconvenience and can stay there for 3 days without worry.

We will finally spend a lot of time on and around the beautiful Naqsh-e Jahan Square.

It does not lack appeal, between its flowered lawns, its impeccable paths, its immense basin (we will still have to wait a little for the water jets), and a lot of magnificent sites, by day and by night, built for many under the reign of Shah Abbas I: Masjed-e Shah mosque (seen), Masjed-e Lotfollah mosque (not seen), Ali Qapu palace and its impressive terraces with eighteen carved columns (seen), e-Lahvafa Bazaar (seen), galleries full of stores selling (more or less) artisanal craft (earthenware, carpets, tapestries…). All, without the influx of tourists expected 10 days later for Norouz, and with merchants rather nice and not too insistent (as often in Iran).

It is also here that we will meet Behrouz, a former colleague of Loïc in France, on a family visit.

We then move away to visit the very beautiful Vank Armenian Cathedral in the Jolfa district and Si-o Seh bridge, one of the many bridges on the hallucinating dry river Zayandeh (we will learn later that it has been diverted to allow pistachio cultivation farther north and is filled only part of the year by a dam).

My my my, already a month in Iran, so many things seen, lived and encounters! We are now familiar with the prices displayed in tomans (one less zero than the official currency, the rial), hazards in service stations for PL to obtain diesel (damn card system with quotas), head gestures, not always easy to interpret, in answer to our questions (not yet indian level of head wobbling, but not far). And our very little knowledge in Farsi improves a little (especially for children, let’s face it!).

And it’s not over! Return to the desert for the next stop: Yazd via Naien.