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Publié le par Bertrand Ricque

I went once to Persepolis. It was  during july. The temperature was probably over 50 celsius. I weared a suit as it was during a business trip with 2 french colleagues. It was in middle of the day, but I had 4 free ours before catching the plane in Shiraz back to Teheran, and I just could'nt imagine leaving without having visited thoroughly the site. The guide had not seen french tourists since years and wanted to show us everything. The thousands years old stones were so hot that I thought that my soles were going to melt. Although I was used to impressive antique site since childhood, the coming out of the site in front me was a shock. It is not possible to describe the immensity of the constructions. We spent all the available time running from palaces to tumbs in the surrounding mountains. I filled myself with all available images, smellings and emotions arising from the area. My colleagues left the site totally exhausted and thirsty thinking that I was crazy and dreaming of a golf course with a whisky. The 2 other tourists were young married iranian. They seemed very poor. She was probably around 16 and he around 18. She was not wearing any scarf but magnificent colored clothes, and was asking plenty of questions to the guide. Before leaving I asked the guide who they were. He asked them and told me that they were coming from a village in east Iran. They were here for there honeymoon as they had some relatives in Shiraz. She was not knowing to read or to write. She was barefoot on the boiling hot stones. And she was visiting Persepolis. This is a place where I feel at home.

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