The start of our road trip began in Shiraz
We flew south one hour from the capital of Tehran to Shiraz (the City of Nightingales) where we met our next driver, Shahrouch, a 25-year-old amiable young man who spoke very little English but seemed to understand quite a bit.
Here, our road trip began and we found our most modern hotel, the Shiraz Hotel, etched into the side of a mountain with a dramatic waterfall cascading beside it and stone bleachers across from it.
A couple of times we ventured out from the hotel on our own and bravely dared to cross the six lanes of speeding traffic with no lights or traffic signs in view.
While standing, hand-in-hand, by the side of the road for five minutes, cars whizzing by, we couldn’t figure out how couples with two or more children would calmly walk onto the highway without batting an eye.
But once we made up our minds to follow their example, we found the cars miraculously slowed down for us as it had for them, just enough to let us cross. The key, we agreed, was not to hesitate, but act as if we knew the drivers would let us proceed.
And with our hearts racing, we made our way, lane after lane, through traffic flying by in both directions. The absence of signs and lights terrified us, but somehow we made it.