On the advice of the locals we got up early and went directly without breakfast to the Pink Mosque. After paying the obligatory 1 million rial entrance fee per person – so slowly we recognized the system behind it – Melanie was once again allowed to be completely covered and we were already standing in the courtyard in front of the sacred halls. Around shortly before 08:00 o’clock were not yet so many visitors present and so we waited anxiously for the sun to shine directly through the colorful mosaic windows and presented us with a breathtaking light show of bright colors. Unfortunately, once again, professional cameras were prohibited and so we could only take photos with our cell phones.

In the meantime, more and more visitors were waiting to capture the best picture – including the “Instagrammers” – so that it became increasingly difficult to take any nice photos at all. After about an hour, we gave up. Back outside, we learned from a guide that we were already lucky on this day, because normally already early in the morning rows of tourist buses – especially with Chinese – arrive.

On the way back, Melanie treated herself to a decent coffee in a coffee shop on the side of the road. They know how to make coffee, the Iranians. On the way we were still addressed by a German-speaking Iranian. He tells us a wild story with the result that he needed money to get his car out of a garage where it was already standing for over 2 years.

At breakfast we decided on a small change of plans. We wanted to borrow our (in the meantime somehow beloved) escape car one day longer and drive with it back in the direction of north to Isfahan. Quickly and uncomplicatedly we clarified this change of plan via whatsapp with the car rental, paid for another night in the guesthouse and we were already sitting in the car again in the direction of Persepolis.

Every day the same procedure – stop at the gas station to fill up. By now we were really good at it. We could read the numbers, Andreas could count from one to ten in Persian and so we didn’t needed any help anymore to refuel.

But today the nice gas station attendant waved us back. He had noticed – unlike us – that we had hardly any air left on one tire. Since in Iran there was no possibility to pump up air at the gas station itself, we were very happy that a truck driver directly offered his help and filled all our tires with fresh air with his compressor. With our vehicle now perfectly maintained, we drove on – of course with the usual gridlocked traffic.

Finally arrived in Persepolis, we paid a parking fee and once again paid 1 million Rial entrance per person. It was particularly clever to stow the tickets after purchase directly in the backpacks, which we had to hand in at the checkroom. In exchange, by the way, we received a super stylish bag with the imprint of “our” bank Ayandeh … the fate laughed at us today probably a little. That we still needed the tickets, we noticed only at the second entrance. So we had to go back 500m in sweltering heat and without any prospect of shade to get the tickets. A small mood low let the ruins tremble slightly.

Persepolis is relatively clear and there are unfortunately only a few remains. While Melanie after a while, because of the heat, took the strike position and enjoyed a drink stand in the shade with fresh melon juice, Andreas climbed a hill in the hope to enter the tombs or temples. Melanie, meanwhile, treated herself to a coffee of the “super expensive” variety in addition to the melon juice, of course.

A bit disappointed Andreas came back from his hill climb – unfortunately one could not enter the tombs or temples. On the way he had still been approached by a “family”. The nice Iranian man introduced Andreas to his wife, his two children … AND his girlfriend. Andreas was a little surprised and so he just smiled friendly.

After about 1.5 hours of exploring the ruins in the blazing sun, we drove on to the necropolis. Already from afar it could be seen that only 3-4 tombs exist, which could also be seen from the parking lot and could not be entered. So we saved the entrance fee and took only two snapshots. Before we could continue, Andreas was approached by an Iranian cab driver. Without thinking much about it, Andreas lent the man his sunglasses for a short time, since the man was very interested in them. After the man gave Andreas back the sunglasses, he confessed to Andreas that he had conjunctivitis or something similar … again a friendly smile from Andreas and first time use of disinfectant wipes.

After everything had been properly disinfected, we spontaneously decided to go via Shiraz to the so-called Pink Lake (Maharloo Lake). From the information we had found, the lake should really shine pink, caused by high salt content and thus an enormously high concentration of algae. After about 2 hours drive we reached the lake and were amazed – but unfortunately not positive. On the one hand there was no real possibility to make a stop, because the lake was located directly at a highway, on the other hand there was (thanks to mankind and global warming) not much left of the lake. Depressed by this, we quickly started the return journey.

Back in Shiraz, after hours of searching for a parking space, we decided to stroll around the city a bit. We went in the direction of the central square and visited first the Vakil bathhouse. You may guess how high the entrance fee was … right! The bathhouse was set up a bit like a museum and was quite interesting to look at. In the immediate vicinity was also the Vakil mosque of the same name.

So we paid the usual entrance fee and also visited the mosque. However, not without a small “incident”. At the entrance a small conversation developed between us and an initially nice-seeming local, who also knew a few words of German. To improve his English a bit, he asked us to hand him our tickets to the mosque. A bit strange, but well – we agreed. He followed us to the ticket counter and right after receiving our tickets, he literally tried to take them. It got a bit noisy, we tried to make him understand that we wanted to visit the mosque FIRST. The fun was over when he touched Mel and tried to snatch the tickets from her – even the older ticket seller tried to help and was slightly stunned.

We “fled” inside and visited the mosque. But we had to leave this again. About half an hour later, the strange guy lurked us again at the entrance and followed us. We decided to ignore him completely and walk towards the bazaar. The fun was finally over when he held Andreas by the arm with loud words. A small “scuffle” and Andreas’ clear and very loud announcement that it would soon finally be the last action of the strange guy, if he should touch us again, finally clarified the situation. Under suspicious looks of the bazaar dealers we visited the same. Strangely enough, several “flying” knife dealers were now buzzing around Andreas to sell him the sharpest knives in the world.

After visiting the bazaar, we ended up back in the main square, where we first looked for a small café to have some rest and recharge our batteries. We enjoyed delicious drinks and shared an ice cream cake – a huge piece of chocolate cake with 3 gigantic scoops of chocolate ice cream, covered with a second huge piece of chocolate cake. At the neighboring tables, this delicacy also found fans. The only interesting thing was that the most petite ladies took on this huge portion alone and mastered this “challenge”, where the two of us almost failed.

After we had dinner at the restaurant Doosi (an absolute insider tip and a bit hard to find) we had several delicious mint margaritas at the rooftop bar of our hostel.