As the second day dawned I got ready to once more head towards the Imam square and meet Aly at the Museum Café overlooking the square. I ended up getting into a rather formal conversation with an Iranian family who asked me to take them some photos. I was soon fascinated by an amazing story being told by an old Irish traveller and which was being recorded by the Iranian news fairly close to where I was sitting and which I inadvertantly listened to.
The overall atmosphere which in itself was already very agreable became spiced by some zafron tea, some traditional cookies and an ice cream I was offered by the staff members. I had brought them some gifts, so as to thank them for the extreme kindness they always treated me.
I wandered about the square as I waited for my dearest friend Aly, whom I was longing to meet again after she overcame a health problem that was responsible for my own daughter's untimely death.
By the time we had updated our latest news it was dark and I once more wandered about the square waiting for Mostafa to finish his work and take me to his cousine's house somewhere in the neighbourhood of Isfahan to have dinner, for which I had been invited.
I was happily surprised to meet Meri's daughter, who was looking after her following a medical intervention. Had I known she was still recovering and I would have refused the invitation. This is what makes Iranians a rather special and unique people, I believe, because despite their own circumstantial problems they still find space to think about the others and care for them, as if they were more important than themselves.
Dinner was splendid and so was the evening. By the time I left it was fairly late ... and I had the feeling we might have spent a few more hours talking, had I not forced myself to leave, in order to force her to rest in turn.
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