The unspoilt expanse of Western Iran is desolate. Its people simple. Barren red mountains stretch as far as the eye can see, in sharp contrast with the clear blue skies above. Decade-old cars of forgotten makes and models plough highways punctuated with police checkpoints at rapid regularity. I’m on my way to Takht-e Soleyman, the spiritual center of Zoroastrianism, and on to Takab for the night, a minuscule town less than a hundred miles from the Iraqi border. Continue reading →