There was a man waiting for me at the airport. He waved his sign – my name misspelled, crossed out, misspelled again – then took my bag and gestured for me to follow him. The hot air hit as soon as we stepped outside; it was dusty, loud, chock-a-block with beat-up buses idling by the…
Midday was drawing near as the air conditioning unit began to choke in the corner of the underground restaurant I’d taken refuge from the heat in. The temperature outside in the city of Shiraz in Iran’s south-east was 45 degrees, and set to get even hotter.
The broken air conditioning was no problem for the…