The streets of Shiraz - and dizi.

After breakfast, we went for a walk to see what the streets of Shiraz are like, and to get some local money. It didn't take long to experience the Iranian friendliness we had been told about.   One man said "Welcome to Syrah" as he went by, others smiled and a vendor selling camel hair goods was very chatty, but unfortunately we could not understand a word! He demonstrated the camel-hair knee pads, presumably for riding camels. Not sure whether they would be of use to my horse-riding relatives!

These are Iranian number plates!

We had been told to get a receipt for any money exchange we made, so we could get a refund if we had rials left over. We asked the money-changer for a receipt - this is it! (Blogger won't rotate it for me).

He tore off a page of paper, put on this stamp and wrote something in squiggles! I think it would be safer to just spend whatever rials we exchange. There are no credit cards in Iran – a result of sanctions no doubt.

Some of the street smells reminded me of Auburn and Greenacre.

The pics are of lunch.  Kin Mun ordered "dizi".  This is how it came.

The waiter explained.

The soup from the brown container is poured into the bowl, the remaining chicken, peas and lentils are mashed up with the silver gadget. Bread is torn into small pieces, put in the bowl, mashed also, and then eaten with the remaining mashed stuff from the brown container.

The finished product.

It tasted like a Parsi Chicken that I have made.  I hadn't realised at the time that the Parsis (in India) originated in Iran!  It also was similar to a procedure we had experienced at Xian, in a Ughur restaurant. Food does not keep to national boundaries.

And the saffron ice-cream is yet to come.