Surprising Iran, land of hospitality

My time in Iran is best summarised by one brief but touching moment. At a family dinner my friend Hajar, her face poking through her traditional head scarf, smiled and said to me: "It is our pleasure, Nat; in Iran guests are a gift from God." This made me think about many things: how Hajar would be received as a guest in my own country, my perception of how Muslims see other cultures, and how hospitality and cultural inquisitiveness have a unique ability to break down many (mostly perceived) barriers.

For me, Iran set a new benchmark for charity and kindness. I advise that you go to Iran firstly for the warmth of the human spirit there. For the invitations to dinner off the street. For the frantic scrambles for a translator. For the long, chaperoned walks to ensure you find your destination. The rich and ancient Persian culture, the abundance of World Heritage sites and the insight into another religion can all take a back seat.

It is fair to say I was nervous when I arrived in the capital, Tehran. I'd heard the phrase, "be careful over there", infinite times before I left. This was amplified by the city itself, a bustling brew of life that's home to approximately 15 million people. The heat was piercing, trapped in the streets by a cloud of thick smog. Cars constantly honked, darted through traffic like manic ants and red lights were a mere suggestion.

This anxiety subsided once I entered my taxi. In fact, Iran was probably the safest country I've ever travelled to, and I never felt even remotely threatened. The driver immediately started chanting the mantra "I love you, friend" among rapid sentences in Farsi. When I reached for my phrase book and tried my luck, his face erupted in pleasure.

He joyously blasted Celine Dion, bellowing "Titanic, Titanic, Titanic". A man in a neighbouring car wound down his window, welcomed me to his country, wished me the best and said, "God bless you". When I arrived at my destination, the driver hopped out of the car and engaged the help of several people to ensure that I arrived exactly at my friend's front doorstep. I received a hug and a kiss on each cheek from the driver for good measure.

Hormoz was my contact in Tehran and, despite my insistence that I could manage solo, he organised friends and family to play tour guide on almost every day I was there. People enthusiastically took time out of their day to assist me; the pleasure was theirs. This initial contact was the catalyst, simply the first in a row of dominos. Every person had someone, whether local or in the next city, who could house me, feed me and help me.

While English is gaining significant traction among young people, especially in Tehran, half the fun lies in the animated gesticulations, botched sentences from phrase books and the universal language of smiles.

Tehran is the cultural centre of Iran. In the more progressive north of the city, the hijab sits a little looser and some of the youth engage in risque behaviour. They slowly drive alongside each other and exchange phone numbers. They upload images to the banned but widely accessible Instagram and Facebook. Some hold underground private parties, apparently with the same pleasures and vices available in Australia. In contrast, the south is the hub of conservatism.

Tehran has a vibrant cultural scene and offers numerous quality museums and art galleries of an international standard. I visited the Museum of Contemporary Art and saw pieces by Picasso, Dali, Van Gogh, Warhol and numerous others for less than a few dollars. Students congregate in hip cafes or in Artists Park, in much the same way as here.

Furthermore, Tehran is a prolific breeding ground for academics in the mathematics and science fields. While I was there, Tehranian Maryam Mirzakhani, now a professor at Stanford University in California, was announced as the first woman to win the Fields Medal, the world's most esteemed prize in mathematics. President Hassan Rouhani commemorated the event by tweeting two photos of her; one wearing traditional hijab and the other without. The hijab dress which Iranian women wear incorporates a scarf to cover the hair and modest clothes to cover the arms and legs. The burqa is very rare, more common in Arabic countries. Men wear long trousers and must cover their upper arms.

The majestic remnants of former rulers, most notably the opulent Golestan and Niavaran palaces, are found in Tehran, with halls, museums, gardens and bedrooms of astounding beauty and decadence.

The bustling bazaars of Iranian cities provide an intriguing look into local wheeling and dealing: animated marketplaces stuck in time, where shopkeepers ("bazaaris") rarely hassle you and sell everything imaginable. They are an ideal place to pick up cheap, authentic products (most notably spices, gold and carpets) or simply get lost in the winding alleys and observe the unfolding transactions. The lanes of Tehran's Grand Bazaar are over 10km long and include designated hubs for specific products.

I left Tehran, so brimming with life and culture, for the more tranquil and spiritual Esfahan via night-bus. A man paid for my upgrade to first class, you guessed it, "because you are my guest". If Tehran is the cultural heart of Iran then Esfahan, endearingly known as "Half the World", is its spiritual heart. The spectacular Naqsh-e Jahan Square, one of the largest squares in the world, and its serene surrounds will floor you. Bordered by a grand bazaar, adorned with beautiful mosques and centred on a large fountain and pool, it is the perfect place to sit and eat the delicious local dessert fereni and people watch.

It was in Esfahan that I met my friend Hajar and was taken under the wing of two truly lovely and caring families. They fussed over me, drove me to nearby villages, played tour guide and invited family over to feast with me. Despite my incessant resistance, they always insisted on paying for me, so important are guests in local culture. Their genuine inquisitiveness, devoid of judgment, coupled with their religious devoutness, was refreshing and heartwarming.

From there I progressed to Yazd, a city which seems to magically emerge from the desert like an oasis. Yazd is famous for the labyrinthine maze of skinny, winding streets which guide you through the mud-brick houses of its old town. Impossible to negotiate but endlessly enchanting, the city is suspended in time and is a fascinating look into traditional Persian life.

My final destination was Shiraz, the city of poets. It is said that Iranian households contain two things: a copy of the Koran and poetry by Hafez. Ancient poets are revered like our sportsmen and remain perpetually topical. Shiraz was a fantastic middle ground between the modernity of Tehran and the peacefulness of Esfahan, and it remains popular with tourists for this reason.

From Shiraz I was able to visit Persepolis, the ancient city whose dramatic history reverberates through its ruins today. Persepolis' earliest remains date back to approximately 500BC and it was where the powerful Persians ruled and inevitably lost a colossal empire.

Shiraz is curiously immortalised in Australia as a favourite drop of red. But while it once inspired poets such as Hafez and Saadi to gush romantically about their city, spirituality and daily life, it is now banned in Iran, along with all other alcohol.

Iran is best enjoyed by engaging all your senses, saying "yes" to the copious invitations and opportunities, and absorbing a truly unique place bursting with thousands of years of culture. For this, you will be rewarded with a new perspective on hospitality, spirituality and people.