Dropping lenses.

I had a bus to catch at nine thirty (they all seem to go around that time), so I couldn't really decline the old fella's invitation to tea.

He'd introduced himself just outside the Tabriz bazaar, and walked alongside me towards my hotel. A handicrafter, and merchant, he spoke very good English. Each time he came to a crescendo in his side of the conversation he'd come to a sudden halt in the street as if to add emphasis- "you understand?"- then we carried on walking.

He told me he kept hundreds of birds at home; canaries, finches and the like. He couldn't help dragging me into a bird shop, then, sitting me down on a plastic stool as he talked to his mates. There I was, surrounded by budgies and finches with balding heads- ugly birds singing prettily.

When we finally got to the tea-house they were locking the door. A tall man, whose hands were heavy with silver, and whose brown Azeri-style hat contrasted with his clouded blue, left eye told us to follow him. So we got into his car, and he made haste away from my hotel area. I had a steady eye on the time, I knew my new found acquaintance was not one for letting guests get away easily.

Five minutes passed before we pulled over towards an alley-way. I stepped out of the car, hurriedly as he'd pulled over on the made road, when I heard a plasticky clatter on the tarmac. I didn't even have to think twice to know exactly what had happened, but still I checked everyone else's shoulder's to see if it was their camera that had plummeted onto the tarmac.

I pulled it up straight away to assess the damage. A huge crack along the lens filter, and dent in it's metal ring. Everything else functioned normally, but in the darkness the cracks in the UV filter reflected on the lens, giving the appearance that this had cracked, too, sending a huge hot-rush up my neck.

"I have to go back to the hotel", I said, rather more bluntly than I'd liked to.

On the way back my new friend consoled me by comparing my cracked lens to his dead parents, his brothers totalled car, his old age. This obviously made me feel terrible. But I still had a night bus to catch, which was a good enough excuse to hurry back and assess the damage.

The filter saved the day.