In the spring – already hot because this is southern Iran, and southern Iran is hotter than it used to be – I landed in the middle of the night at the tidy, unassuming Shiraz airport, along with a dozen well‑heeled westerners. We got off the plane – a Turkish Airlines Airbus, because our insurance companies had not countenanced our travelling by Iran Air – and joined the queue for passport control. I looked at my fellow travellers and thought I detected, over the natural melancholy of people who have been woken up at a cruel hour, a glitter of …read more
Source: Iranian.com
