Upon having left the Museum of Music and believing the Khaju bridge wasn't too far I ventured into some inner streets following the city map till I could no longer feel my feet. Over the last two days I had learned that unless I was physically prepared (and I wasn't sure I was), walking distances could turn into stretches of "undiscovered" territory I might have difficulty to cover.
Having sluice gates under the archways over the river, the Khaju bridge is said to regulate the water flow, serving therefore as more than a simply beautiful bridge, by which city dwellers relax. I did remember having seen it back in 2014 and been impressed by its vaults, its pavillions and above all the voices of the old men who often come and stand underneath its archs chanting and enchanting everyone who stops to listen to them.
After having sat for half an hour listening to two old men singing languorously sad traditional songs I decided to make my way back into the Iman square quarter I was living in. Upon having gone across from one of the bridge entrances into a huge square a rather unique statue caught my attention - a hand holding a dandillion. I couldn't help thinking about its symbolism - the ability to rise above life's challenges.
It was under that spirit that I walked the next one hour and a half till I reached my destination.
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