So I woke up in the hostel. With a full belly from last night’s tuna and a fully charged phone. I had also arranged for my family to transfer some money. So everything was looking good. It was 9 A.M. and I knew It was my last day of traveling. Even with the extra money I couldn’t possibly afford to go further south and make it back to Tehran. So I washed up , packed my bag and went out for a bit of sight-seeing.
Went to a lot of different spots. I loved the city. The old structure and the quite and cleanness of it. You could feel the peaceful quality of the dessert throughout the whole town and in people. I walked everywhere. The sights were so beautiful(I’ll upload the pictures).
After a few hours of walking and getting lost a couple of times(the whole city of yazd is like a maze!), I got hungry so I bought a loaf of local bread and a can of baked beans and ate it in a park.
Now it was time to head back. I could hitchhike again but honestly I was tired and alone and it I thought I should just take a bus. So I went to the bus terminal and bought a ticket to Tehran. It took a long time and it was uncomfortable as hell. It was the worst part of traveling. and my phone died again half-way so I couldn’t even listen to music or read.
By the time I got to the city the subway was closed and I spent the last of my money on a cab. I arrived home at 1 A.M.
As soon as I got off the bus I was filled with this overwhelming emotion that I couldn’t recognize. Some sort of longing. I wasn’t glad to be home. Actually I was sad. I realized how much I despise my polluted, smelly, loud city. As big as this city is , it feels like life is so much smaller here.
These past two days that I’ve been home ; I’m kinda emotional. I cry with the smallest hint of tragedy in a movie or a music. Watching news is impossible. I can’t wait to go away again.
But I have to find a job. Work for a month or two. Save up and get going again.