Esfahan is a wonderful place to get lost in, said James Vlahos in The New York Times. A city of 1.3 million in central Iran, about 200 miles south of Tehran, this old Persian capital so entranced British travel writer Robert Byron in the 1930s that he rated it “among those rarer places, like Athens or Rome, which are the common refreshment of humanity.” Although “pollution-spewing motorcycles” now clog the streets and anti-American billboards are not uncommon, I found a mostly friendly welcome in its bazaars, teahouses, and even a madrasa.
Why would anyone visit Iran? The bureaucratic red tape is a formidable obstacle, the wait a long one. But the rewards are worth the effort—pre-Islamic ruins, glittering mosques, deserts “vaster than those of the American Southwest,” and mountains that dwarf the Rockies. Many Iranians, recognizing me as an American, approached to talk politics. Most had friendly attitudes toward the U.S., though I had to be wary of secret police. Admittedly, dining offers little in the way of variety. Most meals, whether at “a highway truck stop or at an expensive traditional restaurant,” offer identical choices of lamb, chicken, or mince kebab.
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