Strolling along the intricate back streets of Yazd was quite interesting as around each corner there would almost inevitably be either a blue painted dome of some hidden mosque or a bâdgir amidst the golden sandy-like coloured walls of the local houses.
We were beginning to realise and feel the extent of our attachment to this country as the afternoon was running shorter and the estimated time of departure to Tehran, our last stop over before flying back home, was getting closer.
There had been an argument between the group and the guides the previous evening following the possibility of not being able to get back to Tehran on time to catch the flight to Paris, though in the back of our minds I don't think many of us would mind staying had we not scheduled commitments we had to see to.
Despite Massoud being on the alert and on the phone almost all the time in a dramatic and theoretical attempt to solve the problem there was a distinct possibility by then that we might actually miss the connecting flight.
I didn't let myself be affected by it and took advantage of every minute to capture what could be my last images of Iran.
We stopped outside two mausoleums located inside the same domed room in a square bearing their names Davâzdah Iman and Zendan-e Iskandar, the latest, which we ended up visiting. It is known as the prison of Alexander, once the sovereign was imprisoned there in an extensive underground chamber beneath the courtyard. The present building finished in 1305 is used now as a theological school
As we were waiting to be received by an artist, whom I had spoken to the previous day at the Hotel galleries (once he was exposing some of his handicraft material there), whose atelier was next to Zendan-e Iskandar I wandered around another shop, where I came across some beautifully painted miniatures on paper. Hesitation led me not to buy any, which I later regretted, as the only time I had seen similar miniatures (calligraphy associated to painting) had been in Uzbekistan (where I ended up only buying one miniature painting on paper to offer and none for myself). The ones on camel bone were not as fine as the two I had bought before, which in turn made happy with what I had bought so far.
I ended up buying three small glazed tile like artistic pieces with symbolic features to offer my daughter, my brother and a girlfriend at work. For all they looked rather simple the design was exquisite and the perfection of the pieces outstanding.