Day 3
Up bright and early to find that there is no electricity in the hotel room. Cannot be bothered to report this as we are checking out anyway. Manage to go to the loo in the dark, which in itself is an adventure. Luckily I have a rechargeable shaver so somehow I manage to make myself presentable and go down to breakfast. The selection of food is predictably impressive. There is a great choice of fruit juices. I choose Black Cherry (Albaloo). Haven’t tasted these for 40 years. The bread choice is also impressive, and they serve some very tasty local dishes, one of which is called Mirza Ghasemi. Fantastic. Colin is hooked. My worries about him not liking the local food are unfounded. We tuck in. Second helpings follow. This time Colin has discovered fresh dates. I suggest that he tries them with hot bread and Feta cheese. He looks puzzled but after trying it he agrees that sweet and salty is not such a bad idea. Hot black tea is served. The local bread along with Feta cheese and fresh dates make a magical combination. Eventually we have to drag ourselves away from the table and head for the room. I have eaten so much I can hardly move. Colin has faired better. I think he is still playing it careful. Wise move.
We pack our bags and head for reception. The middle-aged concierge spots us straight away and with one swift move grabs several bags and heads for the door. I leap in to action and slow him down, as our camera and flash gear need to be handled with care. I also remind him that we have not yet checked out and need our passports. The lady at the desk gives us a form to fill in and hands us two passports. Once again the concierge is off with our bags. I set off in pursuit and luckily glance at my passport while running. This turns out to be a good move. Oh no…I have been given the passport belonging to a German chap. I ask Colin to follow the bags and return to the desk. The receptionist is most apologetic but the manager who who overhears the conversation is not impressed. Someone is in for a ticking off after we leave. We tip the concierge who is by now a blur of waving arms that are moving from his chest to his sides and back again combined with repeated bows. He will be worn out by lunchtime, I think to myself.
Out in the bright morning sun, we find that our next hotel has sent us a cab. How nice and thoughtful. Rasht is busy but seemingly organized. At one roundabout we see a huge poster promoting the Caspian Festival. Upon arriving at our new hotel we find Ateshe waiting for us in reception. A quick check in is followed by our bags being thrown in an office for pick up on our return later that evening.
Out into the bright morning sun again. We find the cab that is ordered for us is too small. The driver is not pleased at all: the problem is the luggage space in the boot of the car. It seems that most cabs in Iran are converted to liquid petroleum gas and as a result have the gas tank fitted in the boot. This does of course limit the luggage space available. The hotel porter informs the driver that his car is no good and orders another. I feel sorry for the driver and quietly pass on a couple of notes to him not knowing how much I have tipped him. He seems happy and drives off (!)
The next cab drives us out of town and toward what is known as Bandar Anzali, which, we are told, is a free port on the Caspian shore. Apparently the seminar is held at one of the conference rooms at the port. No air conditioning in the cab so the windows are wound down. Soon the scenery changes. The roadside shops have brightly colored plastic seaside paraphernalia. We now know that we are approaching the seaside. Bandar Anzali is a vast compound with modern buildings all railed off with huge gates. We have no idea which gate to aim for so Ateshe gets on the phone to Arash Mahdavi who seems to be the host for the day.
Before long a young man with a huge shy smile arrives and welcomes us to the Seminar. This is Arash Saghari who ends up literally looking after us for the next 48 hours. We drive though the gate and arrive at the centre. The cab is taken care of by our host and we are invited into the buildings. The pavement temperature is now getting seriously hot. Ateshe seems to know quite a few people there and gets busy introducing us to everyone. Quite a few young men surround us with warm and enthusiastic conversation. One lives in Sydney and has come home specifically for this event. We enter a cool air-conditioned room, which seems to be where the seminar is to take place. We are offered tea and cold water. Colin gets busy with his camera as Ateshe and I get busy preparing her PowerPoint presentation. We have of course rehearsed this already. I will drive the Power Point for her two talks and then she will do the same for mine. I am beginning to feel nervous. Giving a talk in Farsi after being out of Iran for 40 years is going to be a challenge. What is Internet in Farsi? I ask a young man who is setting up the projector. Internet… comes a flat response…. Right …thanks…
We pack our bags and head for reception. The middle-aged concierge spots us straight away and with one swift move grabs several bags and heads for the door. I leap in to action and slow him down, as our camera and flash gear need to be handled with care. I also remind him that we have not yet checked out and need our passports. The lady at the desk gives us a form to fill in and hands us two passports. Once again the concierge is off with our bags. I set off in pursuit and luckily glance at my passport while running. This turns out to be a good move. Oh no…I have been given the passport belonging to a German chap. I ask Colin to follow the bags and return to the desk. The receptionist is most apologetic but the manager who who overhears the conversation is not impressed. Someone is in for a ticking off after we leave. We tip the concierge who is by now a blur of waving arms that are moving from his chest to his sides and back again combined with repeated bows. He will be worn out by lunchtime, I think to myself.
Out in the bright morning sun, we find that our next hotel has sent us a cab. How nice and thoughtful. Rasht is busy but seemingly organized. At one roundabout we see a huge poster promoting the Caspian Festival. Upon arriving at our new hotel we find Ateshe waiting for us in reception. A quick check in is followed by our bags being thrown in an office for pick up on our return later that evening.
Out into the bright morning sun again. We find the cab that is ordered for us is too small. The driver is not pleased at all: the problem is the luggage space in the boot of the car. It seems that most cabs in Iran are converted to liquid petroleum gas and as a result have the gas tank fitted in the boot. This does of course limit the luggage space available. The hotel porter informs the driver that his car is no good and orders another. I feel sorry for the driver and quietly pass on a couple of notes to him not knowing how much I have tipped him. He seems happy and drives off (!)
The next cab drives us out of town and toward what is known as Bandar Anzali, which, we are told, is a free port on the Caspian shore. Apparently the seminar is held at one of the conference rooms at the port. No air conditioning in the cab so the windows are wound down. Soon the scenery changes. The roadside shops have brightly colored plastic seaside paraphernalia. We now know that we are approaching the seaside. Bandar Anzali is a vast compound with modern buildings all railed off with huge gates. We have no idea which gate to aim for so Ateshe gets on the phone to Arash Mahdavi who seems to be the host for the day.
Before long a young man with a huge shy smile arrives and welcomes us to the Seminar. This is Arash Saghari who ends up literally looking after us for the next 48 hours. We drive though the gate and arrive at the centre. The cab is taken care of by our host and we are invited into the buildings. The pavement temperature is now getting seriously hot. Ateshe seems to know quite a few people there and gets busy introducing us to everyone. Quite a few young men surround us with warm and enthusiastic conversation. One lives in Sydney and has come home specifically for this event. We enter a cool air-conditioned room, which seems to be where the seminar is to take place. We are offered tea and cold water. Colin gets busy with his camera as Ateshe and I get busy preparing her PowerPoint presentation. We have of course rehearsed this already. I will drive the Power Point for her two talks and then she will do the same for mine. I am beginning to feel nervous. Giving a talk in Farsi after being out of Iran for 40 years is going to be a challenge. What is Internet in Farsi? I ask a young man who is setting up the projector. Internet… comes a flat response…. Right …thanks…
Ateshe is of course the one with the tough job today. Not only does she have to give a talk on the Caspians, she is running a workshop on how to judge Caspians in shows and competitions. Thinking about this makes me realize what an easy job I have for the day so I set about concentrating on being Ateshe's support person for the day. Our conversation is broken frequently as different officials are introduced to us. We are made to feel like VIPs. Colin is busy chatting to everyone and taking pictures. Eventually everyone settles down. The proceedings are underway with the National Anthem. We all stand respectfully.
Arash Saghari opens the Seminar and welcomes everyone.
Arash Saghari opens the Seminar and welcomes everyone.
Several other speakers follow including Mr. Afshari; representatives from the Ministry of Agriculture and a lady from the Riding Federation also give speeches.
I am encouraged by the positive tone and enthusiasm of everyone. For the first time I feel that the Caspian horse may after all be in good hands in Iran. Following the initial welcomes and formal speeches, Dr. Ebrahimi takes the stand. He is an amiable senior gentleman of great warmth and humor. He uses charm and plenty of humour to challenge the officials to do more for the Caspian horse. He is not shy about having a go and finishes up by pronouncing that if they neglect the Caspian horse, he will die of a broken heart and those responsible will have his demise on their consciences. This results in much laughter and applause.
Dr. Ebrahimi is followed by Ateshe. Earlier we had agreed on all the right signals from her for me to advance the slides but I soon find out that the signals are not forthcoming. She is obviously concentrating so much on her Farsi speech. I do my best and somehow we get through the task. Her speech is very well received. There are then a series of questions and answers.
After the break it is my turn to take to the stage and introduce the CHS to the seminar and showcase the new website. This time Ateshe is there to advance the slides. I just manage to get through without a major blunder. The page that receives the warmest reception is the page where real and authentic Farsi names are offered for Caspian foals.
Soon after we all set off for lunch. Out in the midday heat. Wow. This is hot. We soon walk in to a Mall like building full of duty free shops.
The sea view restaurant is a vast affair with seating for several hundred. Ateshe, Colin and I are invited to the big table where we sit with the speakers and the representative from the Iranian Riding Federation. The menus arrive and we set about translating all the choices for Colin. Someone suggests that Colin should try the local fish. Colin is easily persuaded to take on the challenge. I opt out for the safe Chelokabob.
The conversation gets going. Everyone wants to know about the Caspian Horse Society and how he or she can help and get involved. I receive a few offers of translations for a Farsi version of the site. This is most encouraging. My standard line is to ask everyone to work together toward the final goal, which will be the setting up of the official Caspian Stud Book for Caspians in Iran. This is welcomed but I can see from their faces that they find the task rather daunting. Before long lunch arrives. Colin takes one look at his fish and throws a sharp look in my direction. I have never seen anything like this. A perfect fish had been fried to within and inch of its life. All stiff and crunchy. Much like the crispy ducks you see hanging in the windows of traditional Chinese restaurants in Chinatown, London. I shrug my shoulders and ease the rice dish and the yoghurt towards him in a vain hope of reducing his disappointment. As it turns out the crispy fish is rather good and very popular with other guests. As ever the lunch is nothing short of a feast. Great conversation and laughter can be heard from other tables. There are some 30-40 people from the seminar who have joined us for lunch.
Back to the seminar for the second half. Ateshe has a technical presentation to make. The subject is how to judge a Caspian at a show. This goes down very well. I have to concentrate hard on her signals to advance the slides but before long she is compelled to walk down from the stage and get close to the screen and discuss detail with the participants. There are quite a few young men and women who are genuinely interested in the characteristics of a Caspian and are busy quizzing Ateshe about the subject. This results in quite a bit of going backwards and forwards with the slides.
We survive. Soon the seminar draws to a close and we leave the Port for the beach. Quite a few lamp posts display the Festival flags in the way. Very encouraging. We are told that a few Caspians attending the show will be arriving at the beach where Ateshe will give a practical demonstration on judging a Caspian. The beach is a crowded place. The grandstand has been prepared and a huge part of the sea front is fenced of for the event.
Upon arrival we see a few pick up trucks with Caspians in the back. Never seen anything like it. The horses are soon persuaded to ‘jump off’ and are led to the beach.
I find Colin totally engrossed in the scenery. ‘Come and see this’ he calls. A small girl dressed in traditional Gilani clothes is preparing to drive a small chariot pulled by a Caspian. Fantastic.
Upon arrival we see a few pick up trucks with Caspians in the back. Never seen anything like it. The horses are soon persuaded to ‘jump off’ and are led to the beach.
I find Colin totally engrossed in the scenery. ‘Come and see this’ he calls. A small girl dressed in traditional Gilani clothes is preparing to drive a small chariot pulled by a Caspian. Fantastic.
A young boy is all dressed up in his proper riding clothes and is practising his archery while riding a Caspian. Yes: you guessed it, no hands. He looks exactly like the famous carvings at Persepolis. I am genuinely touched. They have gone to so much effort and are so proud of their horses. And what beautiful and well looked after horses.
Another younger boy of about 10 years old offers to do some jumping with a Caspian for us. We would very much like that we reply. Quickly everyone sets about positioning the jumps and before long this little chap is off clearing the jumps with ease and confidence. How fantastic to see a child and a Caspian Horse having a great time tearing around the beach. I look around and see his father. His face full of pride and joy. I am reminded of why we are here: this is what the Caspian Horse is all about.
Another younger boy of about 10 years old offers to do some jumping with a Caspian for us. We would very much like that we reply. Quickly everyone sets about positioning the jumps and before long this little chap is off clearing the jumps with ease and confidence. How fantastic to see a child and a Caspian Horse having a great time tearing around the beach. I look around and see his father. His face full of pride and joy. I am reminded of why we are here: this is what the Caspian Horse is all about.
This event is soon followed by the main attraction which is the Chariot drive. The vehicle is brought in and the same Caspian (having done the archery and the jumping!) is backed in the chariot ready to be harnessed. To my amazement I find out that he has never been seen the chariot before and this ‘really’ is his first time. I begin to get worried for the horse and the child. To my relief the groom takes the reins and begins to drive. The Caspian is a little nervous but true to form he soldiers on and before long he is trotting along the beach. After a few circuits the groom hands over the reins and jumps off leaving the little girl in charge. Without a blink, she stands up and takes full control. I am speechless …. Colin is in heaven and is clicking away like mad. I look at Ateshe. She seems pleased and has that ‘I told you’ look on her face.
The air is beginning to cool. The surf is now rising. Still lots of children playing in the water. Loud cheerful music fills the air. By now we have attracted a huge enthusiastic crowd. Lots of questions are being asked about these ‘funny little horses’. I am please to see that everyone associated with the seminar is taking great care to inform the public of the existence of these little treasures. Children in particular are very very interested. A new beginning perhaps?
Once Ateshe has finished her workshop we say goodbye to everyone and leave with Arash who proves to be the first of many heroes that we are about to meet. We are also joined by Navid. Another hero of this story. More of him later.
Arash who is hardly 30 is a professor of IT at a local university. He lives locally with his wife and two-year-old son. He also happens to be a show jumper and a riding instructor. We drive out of Rasht. The scenery is just stunning. Arash asks what kind of landscape we are looking for. Rice paddies are our unanimous reply. How about some water buffalo and some semi feral horses he asks. I translate for Colin. All I get in return is a massive smile. We stop on the roadside. The sun is about to set. The air is warm but close. In the distance there are several dozen water buffalo grazing the marshes. We also see some horses but they are too far away. We notice some wild Tameshk (some variety of blackberry) growing by the roadside. Ateshe tries some first. Colin and I follow. The taste is sweet and very strong.
Back in the car. After a while we turn off the main road and on to an unsurfaced track. There are rice paddies on to either side. We can smell the rice even in the car with the air conditioning on full. I feel hungry again. We arrive at a farm. Arash informs us that this is a chicken farm. He emphasizes that the chickens are free to run about so no battery chickens here. We are told that the place belongs to Mohandas Ghavidel affectionately referred to as Haj-Agha.
He too happens to be a passionate horseman. We walk into an old fashioned yard, which has a line of lovely trees right in the middle. Beautiful old stables on one side and rice paddies on the other. The sky is scarlet by now. Tethered to one of the trees is what can only be described as a mythical figure. A dapple grey Caspian stallion with a head unlike any other I have seen. Although he is dapple grey, his skin is almost pink. Is he really that colour or is it the light?
We must have him for the calendar. ‘What is his name?’ I ask Arash. ‘Cyrus’ he says proudly. Where did you find him? Oh we found him grazing on a roadside up the mountains one day and bought him on the spot. So they do still exist in small villages? ‘Of course they do’ replies Arash. Cyrus is restless. He is led to his stable. Ateshe who already knows everyone is busy discussing the riding arrangements in the yard. I look at Colin. That broad smile again. I wonder if that is going to be his stock expression from now on. I ask Ateshe what she thinks of the stallion. She seems to agree that we have something special here.
Once Ateshe has finished her workshop we say goodbye to everyone and leave with Arash who proves to be the first of many heroes that we are about to meet. We are also joined by Navid. Another hero of this story. More of him later.
Arash who is hardly 30 is a professor of IT at a local university. He lives locally with his wife and two-year-old son. He also happens to be a show jumper and a riding instructor. We drive out of Rasht. The scenery is just stunning. Arash asks what kind of landscape we are looking for. Rice paddies are our unanimous reply. How about some water buffalo and some semi feral horses he asks. I translate for Colin. All I get in return is a massive smile. We stop on the roadside. The sun is about to set. The air is warm but close. In the distance there are several dozen water buffalo grazing the marshes. We also see some horses but they are too far away. We notice some wild Tameshk (some variety of blackberry) growing by the roadside. Ateshe tries some first. Colin and I follow. The taste is sweet and very strong.
Back in the car. After a while we turn off the main road and on to an unsurfaced track. There are rice paddies on to either side. We can smell the rice even in the car with the air conditioning on full. I feel hungry again. We arrive at a farm. Arash informs us that this is a chicken farm. He emphasizes that the chickens are free to run about so no battery chickens here. We are told that the place belongs to Mohandas Ghavidel affectionately referred to as Haj-Agha.
He too happens to be a passionate horseman. We walk into an old fashioned yard, which has a line of lovely trees right in the middle. Beautiful old stables on one side and rice paddies on the other. The sky is scarlet by now. Tethered to one of the trees is what can only be described as a mythical figure. A dapple grey Caspian stallion with a head unlike any other I have seen. Although he is dapple grey, his skin is almost pink. Is he really that colour or is it the light?
We must have him for the calendar. ‘What is his name?’ I ask Arash. ‘Cyrus’ he says proudly. Where did you find him? Oh we found him grazing on a roadside up the mountains one day and bought him on the spot. So they do still exist in small villages? ‘Of course they do’ replies Arash. Cyrus is restless. He is led to his stable. Ateshe who already knows everyone is busy discussing the riding arrangements in the yard. I look at Colin. That broad smile again. I wonder if that is going to be his stock expression from now on. I ask Ateshe what she thinks of the stallion. She seems to agree that we have something special here.
Haj Agha appears and greets us warmly. It is at this point that the sheer scale of what is ahead strikes me. I have forgotten most of the special Farsi (tarof) that is the backbone of polite Iranian social exchange. Ateshe is really good at it so all I can do is listen, learn and copy. Arash leads us out of the yard, across a river and into the rice paddies. The aroma of rice, flowers and wild herbs is intoxicating. The sound of frogs, crickets and birds is deafening. The sky is scarlet.
We have arrived in paradise....
We definitely want to use this location for one of the shots. Hope the light is the same tomorrow evening. We walk back to the yard. On the way we pass a cow and her calf quietly grazing on all the wild plants on the road side. Is this organic? You bet it is.
Haj Agah has arranged for tea to be served. He is insisting on us staying for dinner. We thank him and say that we have an early start tomorrow and furthermore, we have been up for nearly 24 hours. We will see him tomorrow at the show. Cyrus is entered. Look out all Caspian owners…..
Arash drives us to our hotel. Arrangements are made for us to be picked up tomorrow morning. Ateshe has already checked in so she heads for her room and we arrange to meet in the restaurant. To the check in desk. We are told that our entire luggage is already placed in the room (sharing with Colin again!). We dump our bags and head for the restaurant. A very well dressed young lady greets us and shows us to our table and proudly announces that to night there is live music. My heart sinks. Oh no….. not pop music please. We are too tired. Instead we are greeted with a three-piece band of fine musicians who play some very old classical tunes that send my head spinning back to my childhood. The food is great. We start off with hot bread served with a couple of bowls of that magical yoghurt and wild garlic. Without a care in the world we tuck in and fill our stomachs not realizing that the main course is yet to come. More amazing food arrives accompanied with some carbonated yoghurt drink. I don’t think I have ever eaten so much.
Tomorrow is the day of the Festival. Must pack up soon.
Please visit this site next week for more.
Wish to join the Caspain Horse Society? Please click here
If you wish to reserve a copy of the calendar please click here
We have arrived in paradise....
We definitely want to use this location for one of the shots. Hope the light is the same tomorrow evening. We walk back to the yard. On the way we pass a cow and her calf quietly grazing on all the wild plants on the road side. Is this organic? You bet it is.
Haj Agah has arranged for tea to be served. He is insisting on us staying for dinner. We thank him and say that we have an early start tomorrow and furthermore, we have been up for nearly 24 hours. We will see him tomorrow at the show. Cyrus is entered. Look out all Caspian owners…..
Arash drives us to our hotel. Arrangements are made for us to be picked up tomorrow morning. Ateshe has already checked in so she heads for her room and we arrange to meet in the restaurant. To the check in desk. We are told that our entire luggage is already placed in the room (sharing with Colin again!). We dump our bags and head for the restaurant. A very well dressed young lady greets us and shows us to our table and proudly announces that to night there is live music. My heart sinks. Oh no….. not pop music please. We are too tired. Instead we are greeted with a three-piece band of fine musicians who play some very old classical tunes that send my head spinning back to my childhood. The food is great. We start off with hot bread served with a couple of bowls of that magical yoghurt and wild garlic. Without a care in the world we tuck in and fill our stomachs not realizing that the main course is yet to come. More amazing food arrives accompanied with some carbonated yoghurt drink. I don’t think I have ever eaten so much.
Tomorrow is the day of the Festival. Must pack up soon.
Please visit this site next week for more.
Wish to join the Caspain Horse Society? Please click here
If you wish to reserve a copy of the calendar please click here
