good pain, bad pain

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Ah, the pain. Again, it was a mix of different things. My body was sore, which felt good. But my right foot hurt more than it should have, which was bad.

I decided to rest for a few days.

Eventually I did end up taking a little walk around the immediate neighborhood of the hotel, though. There was a small clothes shop that seemed to spill out into the street:

The shopkeeper was a charming old gentleman:

He later showed me that the hat he was wearing had been made in Austria.

I took a little stroll across the bazaar later:

And then I went to the Central Mosque of Gorgan, which was fairly large and quite pretty:

When I walked back after nightfall, the bazaar was slowly quieting down:

It had been a nice day in Gorgan.

A day of good pain and bad pain.

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