One of the main reasons I wanted to go to Tabriz was the bazaar. It’s the longest one in the world and was one of the major connection points of the Silk Road. I wasn’t really impressed by most bazaars before and thought I’d give it one more try. I have to say, maybe bazaars are just not my thing.
I loved the dancing mice, especially because it was so off the usual images. When the seller offered it to me as a present I told him he should not gamble on Taroof with German tourists… He was a bit worried afterwards. 
Carpets in Tabriz
Tabriz itself was very much my thing though, it’s an old city where tourism is just about to start and with a lot of the historical atmosphere of former times still in place.
Of course, Tabriz was also the home of a great poet, namely Seyyed Mohammad Hossein Behjat Tabrizi, or simply Shahriar. His former home was transformed to a museum. The only problem was that almost everything was in Farsi with no English explanation, making it a bit difficult to understand. The manager on the other hand was super happy about a foreigner and after I tried my best Farsi he was even happier and started talking as if I was a native. I saw the disappointment in his face when he realised I’m on a very basic level, but still tried his best to explain a few things. I felt a bit bad and awkward with the situation so I left as soon as possible without being impolite and went on to my next destinations. I saw a couple of historical houses before meeting with a guy from Couchsurfing who showed me around the bazaar and old town. Later, we went to the mausoleum of poets, where 400 Iranian writers rest in peace. It’s an impressive building, but I stopped paying six to ten times the prices Iranians pay for entrance fees and didn’t enter. Instead, we went to a nearby historical house with a beautiful garden.
In the evening I went with another guy we met at the bazar to the Aynali mountain where I could see another city by night. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my tripod with me and it was also freezing cold, so no memorable picture for me this time. We hopped back in the car and went to a park with a beautiful lake in the middle and, most importantly, a good coffee shop. I usually don’t drink espresso at 10pm at night, but in Iran you make a lot of exceptions to what you would usually do and the coffee was delicious.
Kandovan
Kandovan is a small and supposedly beautiful village a little outside of Tabriz. The locals built the houses inside the mountains, making it a pretty little village made of semi-caves.
Getting there was a bit stressful – you need to get into a bus which takes you to the minibus station. At the minibus station you need to explain multiple times that you want to take the minibus to Osku instead of hiring a private taxi directly to Kandovan. At Osku, finally, you should be able to get a shared taxi, but the taxi drivers assured me there is no shared taxi going up to Kandovan that day. I was still discussing that matter with them when suddenly an older woman came to my side, asking me if I was on my own and wanted to go to Kandovan. I nodded to both and she grabbed my arm and just said I would come with her then. I was a bit irritated, but followed her to the car. It turned out they were four golden girls on a road trip through the northwest, and they decided to take care of me since I was travelling on my own.
Unfortunately, Kandovan was not as nice as I expected it. It was rainy, dirty, and the villagers not as welcoming as elsewhere. I decided to go back to Tabriz for the night and stayed with someone from Couchsurfing, before heading towards Kaleybar the next day. The guy told me about some colourful mountains on the way and the next day, we went there together for a hike. Afterwards, our ways separated and he went back to Tabriz while I was about to hitchhike to Kaleybar and finally make my way to the Armenian border.
