Already at the airport I recognise the air and smell of Teheran. My childhood town, a bit sad, a bit magic. The capital of contrasts, at the foot of the mountains with the snow-covered peak of Damavand, which one day will surely be covered by the buildings which are springing up everywhere. Teheran has a unique architecture due a disorderly mixture of styles : there are even buildings that look like the ones in San Francisco. Everyone says
that the beautiful old gardens are disappearing only to be replaced by towers. The lazy winter sun is omnipresent. Even when it snows, it warms the bones. When the air is less polluted there are fantastic sunsets in a sky that changes colour every day: a breathtakingly charming picture.
People do not look at the sky much. Since my arrival, there has not been one drop of rain. The sky is less generous these days in this earth coloured city. They say that there are many more trees now, but that after the first two months of Spring the leaves are almost burnt by the sudden heat and by the pollution. I feel estranged from this town, but I love it nonetheless.