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From
Kashan we strike south, skirting the desert, to a village called Abyaneh. Ochre
and red brick homes, lattice windows, wooden balconies, and twisting roads of
mud and stone that climb the hillside, Abyaneh preserves three hundred years of
history and UNESCO classifies it as a World Heritage Site. The women here are
fashion mavericks - they wear multi-colored chadors. | |||
Biker and his babe. The saddlebags, seen
on most motorcycles, must be a legacy from the horse and camel days. | |||
Old men sit on stoops and offer wisdom to
any passerby - if only we spoke Farsi. | |||