Globe Gallivanting- motorbiking across the world

We left Esfahan for Yazd, a desert oasis, and apparently very, very hot.  Oh good.  The desert was very similar to the rest of the desert, though there were fewer military bases.  The atmosphere went a little odd too- the beards were bigger, the women were fewer, and those that were around were all chador-ed up.    Yazd was excellent.  It was viciously hot, and made you behave oddly.  We only went out at night, and otherwise stayed in our phenomenally amazing, beautiful haveli hotel, good enough for any honeymoon, and ate incredibly good food sat on the rooftop with a small cat.    The muezzin improved to the extent that you’d actually want to listen to for an extended period.  The city itself was very, very old.  The air felt old, and like it should smell of library books.  It was all made out of mud, with little narrow corridors to get lost down.  I liked it.  I could have lived there. Despite my silly anxiety...

The next morning we found our German, and took him to the park for a chat.     We went back for another peek at the square in the day-time, and it was very peaceful and quiet (despite an overweight 8yr old dressed entirely in pink bouncing a football off the sides of the mosque, causing mindshattering echoes…) We watched a fight ensue between a street-junkie and a shopkeeper, and bought ourselves five flavours of icecream.   We found another, smaller mosque, even more stunning in gold tiling and stood in the corner and stared at the ceiling for a while.  An odd gate-keeper turned up, possibly slightly deranged but very friendly, and, using a scrubby note in English he kept in his pocket, asked for stamps or postcards from Britain.  He was really nice and I would have given him large numbers of them, but I sadly had none.   We wandered the bazaars and the spice-stalls, feeling like we had properly reached exotic climes.   Later that night we visited ...