Tehran's Saad Abad and the Crown Jewels

Tehran has a population estimated at between 8 and 12 million, and sprawls out from the north, butted up against Damovan mountain with lots of snow and a cablecar to the top, spreading and growing every year far, far out.

I was told that North Tehran, where the shah once lived, is the richest area, and as you get lower and lower it gets poorer and poorer. The air too, gets worse down in South Tehran, and the traffic inches along except for the motorcycles who zip between sometimes against traffic.

We visited the Saad Abad, the complex that once was where the shah and his many relations lived in 18 buildings and palaces before the revolution in 1979 that began with Ayatollah Khomeini's triumphant return from France. Sycamore trees line the grounds, providing a leafy canopy and a river runs down the sloped area. It surprised me that so much of this wasn't destroyed by the angry revolutionaries, but intact is the princess phone used by the princesses and the shah's desk and even a billiard room to entertain the many people who used to wait to meet with the King.

We then set out through the crowded streets to a neighborhood of winding streets, cafes bakeries, kabob stands and vegetable sellers called Darakeh. Here we watched bakers knead dough and then throw it against the wall of a roaring fire inside a clay oven, bake it for a minute or so, then fish it out with a stick and toss it out for sale. The loaves were quickly picked up by passing customers, each one cost about 70 cents.

The Crown Jewels are another big attraction here in Tehran. We had to clear our pockets of cameras cellphones and anything else, before entering a vault to view the most spectacular collection of bejewelled crowns, a throne, a bed, a globe and various jewelry. The crown that Farah Shah used to wear alone had a thousand diamonds and emeralds as big as acorns. An alarm frequently sounded when the throngs of black-clad schoolgirls would push too close to the gem cases.

After the National Museum, where we saw some of the best carvings from Persepolis we visited a former army barracks that is now an arts center, complete with vegetarian cafe and exhibits from local artists. After a fill up on felafel, we were fortified for an hour-long session in traffic making our way back up to the north to our hotel.

Tehran's Raucus Thursday Night Drive Time

After our final dinner, complete with rollicking Iranian musicians, my tablemates and I decided to walk back to the hotel. It was a group who had bonded over conversation; three Portuguese tour operators and a smart Brit who handled PR for Jordan and Korean Air.

Loaded down with more gifts from our effusive hosts (this time a 16" long tray of nuts and fruits), we set out up the big busy North Tehran boulevard toward home. First we found a cafe with espresso, to satisfy my European friends.

Our conversation in the cafe ran the gamut, from women to divorce and living situations, to how terribly the US immigration treats them when they come to the US. And these are upstanding businessmen, so I can't do any more beefing about the rigamarole of getting my Iranian visa. It flowed and once again I revelled in my element...new friends, interesting conversation, a cool setting somewhere a little exotic.

The Tehran traffic, of course, was bumper to bumper, but there was a raucus, frenetic energy, it was Thursday night here, (their Saturday) and packed Paycans and Peugeots drove merrily down the street, music blasting, young Iranians packed in yelling and carrying on. We'd pass them on the sidewalk and they'd yell "THANK YOU!!" or "HELLO!!" throwing the few English words they knew at us. I counted nosejob bandage number eight, and saw a car that was packed with seven young women, including a woman driver, which surprised me. But this is north Tehran, where these youth are the future, and they push the border of their strict rules to the limit.

Young men careened down the sidewalk on motorbikes, weaving in and out of traffic, yelling and joking, and we saw three different scenes of men examining eachother's cars after fender benders amidst the exuberant and slow flow of traffic. Iranian rap music joyously blasted from a dozen different stereos. The cars inched ahead, families as well as young people were streaming into a park...it was 12:15 am. Subsidized gas and no dancing, clubs or booze means a whole lotta driving, if you can call this inching forward driving.

At one point a large crowd of men gathered beneath an underpass, waving wildly at my camera, and gesturing to come over. One of us, an intrepid young Portuguese agent named Tiago came to shoot their photo. They were all gathered around a little stove brewing water for tea.

After our hour-long walk, I've got a few hours here to sleep before I meet my guides at 5 am for my trip to the desert. I will be tired, but I'll bring a pillow for the 3-hour ride.