Wake up at 4:30 to get on the plane. Our taxi, our guide who had us discover Isfahan made us false leap … wake-up failure.
We take in extremis the taxi of the hotel, a vehicle all up but that brings us to “good port”.
The Customs pass is going well: the airport scanners do not detect the butcher knife purchased at yazd and concealed in the suitcase.
We arrive at the airport of Istanbul and take a recuperative rest on the benches of the airport.
We take the plane back to Charles de Gaulle.
We are sitting next to two teachers of Iraqi French, who animated a debate around the Middle East throughout the flight. We also share a few moments with a young French traveller coming back from Tibet, after spending two years in Australia.
In short, we did not see the time passing and arrive without difficulty at the airport Charles de Gaulle.
We take a train to Rennes. The daughter of Pascal, Elisa we retrieves and brings us to our small breton village.
End of this beautiful Iranian journey.