Tehran in a glance

I left Tashkent without having booked an hotel, bought a guide or city map, and without being able to get in touch with anyone of the people I was introduced to by email. Before landing, I already had two offers for a ride in town, and one offer for accommodation as a guest. Before leaving the airport, the latter raised up to three. This is just to give you a practical example of how much a government can differ from the population it rules on. I visited many countries, I know friends - very good friends - from a number of different states, but I never met such a hearty felt sense of hospitality for unknown foreigners. If I am able to consider Tehran as one of the best experiences in my life, this is all because of Mr. Soudi, Reza, and Azadeh. These three people, among many others, dedicated a lot of their time driving me around to see the city and meet their friends, acted as translators and offered me shelter. They introduced me to some secrets of Tehran, ad it's my pleasure to share some sparkles of its beauty with all of you. From now on, don't trust the media when it comes to Iran. Ask Iranian people instead.

In vino veritas

Sunday morning was devoted to food shopping for the Italian cooking-class day.

I had the chance to practice a lot my Russian with Marshrutka drivers, sellers, passers-by, beggars, drunk people.

A police officer in plain clothes - after checking my documents - praised my good Russian. A small girl selling juices did the same with a very good English. Also a miller commended my use of his difficult and fascinating language.