Back to Feed
Long Read

Kerman, Iran: My Overexposed, Underwhelming, and Totally Worth It Photo Safari

@Aria Bennett2/7/2026blog

i've been in Kerman for three days now, and my camera has collected more sand than my shoes. the first thing i noticed wasn't the heat (though 16.9°C seemed mild) but the quality of light - it's like everything is covered in a fine, translucent powder, and the sun hits the ancient mud-brick walls at a way that makes a photographer either weep or start praying to the dust gods. i'm somewhere in between.

128234 and 1364554896 keep appearing like cryptic graffiti on the walls of my mind. maybe it's my hostel booking number, maybe it's the wifi password that never works. i've stopped asking questions.

just to give you a sense of where i'm camped out, here's a quick map embed:


the city itself is a labyrinth of alleys that feel like they were designed by someone who hated right angles. my daily grind has been the huge *Ganjali Khan Square, where men in stark white robes argue over chess moves and kids chase pigeons like it's their job. the square is flanked by a caravanserai that now houses souvenir shops selling rugs that probably weigh more than my camera bag.

i'm shooting with a battered Nikon D750 and a 35mm f/1.4 that i found at a flea market in Istanbul (don't ask). the challenge here is twofold: the relentless dust gets into every crevice, and the light at noon is harsh enough to bleach colors. i've learned to chase the golden hour like a hungry hawk. i wake up before sunrise and hike up to the Kerman's viewpoint (i'm making that name up) to catch the city wash in a soft pink. then i run back before the midday glare. also, i've been using a rocket blower like it's my sidekick - always carry extra batteries because the cold mornings drain them faster than i can say "shutter speed".

if you get bored, the small town of Mahan is just an hour southeast, known for its Shazdeh Garden, a slice of paradise in the middle of the desert. i hopped on a shared taxi with a guy who sells pomegranate molasses; he told me that the garden's water rights are a whole drama that's been going on since the Qajar era. that's the kind of story you can't get from a guidebook.

overheard at a tea house: "someone told me that the Friday bazaar is a tourist trap, but i've bought a hand-stitched leather journal there for half the price they ask at the hotel boutique." i'm skeptical, but i went anyway. i found a rug-weaver in the back corner, an old man with hands like cracked earth, who let me photograph his loom. he said his patterns are based on ancient Kerman carpet motifs that date back to the Safavid period. i posted a few shots and got a DM from a curator in Tehran who wants to feature my work. all because i listened to a drunk Brit's ramble at the cafe next door.

here's a snap from the bazaar, full of colors and dust:

Kerman bazaar


i've also been scouring TripAdvisor for food recommendations. there's a thread where a user swears by the kashk-e bademjan at a place called "Narges". i tracked it down - a tiny kitchen with a stove that looked like it survived the Mongol invasion. the dish was sour, creamy, and topped with fried mint that made my eyes water in the best way. TripAdvisor link. i also checked Yelp, which surprisingly had a listing for a coffee shop that roasts its beans locally. the barista, a teen with an undercut, told me that the beans are from a farm in the Bam region, and the espresso has this chocolatey finish that sticks around. Yelp link. i've linked the local board too - they discuss the best spots for night photography: Kerman Photographers Forum. if you want the long historical context, check the Wikipedia page for Kerman.

on the weather front, the forecast says clear skies with a high of 18°C and a low of 11°C, but the humidity is so low that my skin feels like parchment. the pressure is steady at 1014 hPa, which i guess means no sudden storms - good for shooting outdoors. i just stepped outside and the thermometer read 16.9°C with a humidity of 27% - the numbers don't lie. that's the kind of crisp air that makes you forget about the dust for a little while.

the neighbors? well, Sirjan, a city about an hour west, has this weird love for brick towers that look like giant chimney stacks. they also make a mean sesame candy that i've been nibbling on. i'd say if you need a change of scenery, Sirjan's industrial vibe is a nice contrast to Kerman's ancient soul.

last night i went out to capture the desert dunes at sunset. i drove to the Lut Desert fringe, where the sand dunes are sculpted by wind into endless waves. the light was gold, the shadows long, and i almost forgot about the sand in my kit. i set up my tripod and shot a sequence that made the sand look like molten metal. i'll post those on my Instagram once i find a coffee shop with decent wifi - there's a cafe called "Cafe 57" that has the fastest internet in town, or so they claim. i'm skeptical but the iced tea is legit.

Lut Desert


and then i crashed at my guesthouse, dreaming about turquoise tiles and cumin-scented air.

i'm leaving in two days, already dreading saying goodbye to the chaos and the colors. Kerman doesn't try to be pretty; it just is, in a raw, unpolished way that either repels you or makes you fall hard. i'm definitely in the latter camp. i might even come back with a longer lens and a proper dust-sealed body. next time, i'll be prepared: seal your gear, bring more lens cleaner than you think, and most importantly, talk to the locals* - they hold the keys to the best shots.

You might also be interested in:

About the author: Aria Bennett

Believer in lifelong learning (and unlearning).

Loading discussion...