chalus, iran: where the fog eats your shadow and the carpet sellers tell ghost stories
so i’m sitting on this ridiculous, lumpy Persian rug in a tea house that smells like wet wool and regret, and my emf meter is buzzing like a trapped wasp. not a good buzz. a ‘something-is-wrong-and-also-your-batteries-are-dying’ buzz. welcome to chalus, iran. i came here because a guy in a hostel in tehran whispered, ‘the forest near the chalus river… it doesn’t like being recorded.’ of course i had to come. i live for this stuff.
the weather here is a thing. i just checked and it’s…there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. 13 degrees but feels like you’re being hugged by a damp potato sack. 40% humidity means the mist doesn’t just hang, it clings. it gets in your tape recorders, your notebooks, your goddamn soul. i swear the fog has a weight to it.
!chalus misty forest
if you get bored, tehran’s chaos is a short drive east, but why would you? this place is a slow bleed of history and weirdness. someone told me that the old carpet shop on the main drag-the one with the bleeding eye symbol above the door-is haunted by a weaver who died mid-pattern. his ghost supposedly tries to finish the knot, and you can hear tiny ‘clicks’ at 3 am. i bought a rug there anyway. it’s probably cursed. my apartment is now a tripping hazard.
*the locals are a masterclass in deadpan. i asked about the ‘humming bridge’ everyone mumbles about, and this old guy just stroked his beard and said, ‘the bridge doesn’t hum. the people under it do.’ thanks, grandpa. helpful. i posted about it on a local board and got two replies: one was a pdf of safavid-era tax records ( thrilling ) and the other was just a location pin in the middle of the alborz mountains with the words ‘don’t go.’ cool. cool cool cool.
overheard rumor? the caspian sea to the north isn’t just a sea. they call it ‘the sleeping giant.’ there’s a story that every few years, a wave comes in that’s not water, but cold so deep it carries whispers. i laughed until i felt a chill on my neck while standing on the shore at dusk. wasn’t the wind.
my gear list is a mess right now. spirit box (static-y), digital recorder (full of rustling sounds that aren’t wind), a nikon d850 with a weird lens flare that only shows up in the forest. also, three packs of local ‘ghost pepper’ chips. they’re just spicy, but my stomach thinks they’re supernatural.
i tried an evp session by the chalus river last night. the water was loud. i asked, ‘is anyone here?’ and the rustle of a plastic bag sounded like a clear ‘yes.’ turned my head, and a stray dog was stealing my backup batteries. the real horror is always mundane.
!chalus river bank
if you want to actually eat something that doesn’t involve dried fruit, there’s a kebab place down an alley that a taxi driver swore by. his exact words: ‘the meat is good, the ghosts are polite.’ five stars. i linked it on my yelp but warned people about the ‘ambiance.’
this morning, i hiked towards the rumored ‘weeping rock.’ the path was slick, the fog was so thick i kept seeing shapes. turned out to be a guy herding goats. his face was a permanent frown. i asked if the rock cries. he said, ‘only when it rains.’ then he spat and walked off. i still filmed the rock. it did nothing. my recorder caught him muttering ‘crazy tourists’ in hazaragi. fair.
my advice? wear boots that can die. the mud here isn’t mud; it’s a clay soup that tries to eat your shoes. also, your phone won’t get signal in the valleys, which is either a blessing or a curse depending on how addicted you are to tripadvisor reviews. i read one that said, ‘beautiful scenery, zero ghosts. 2/10.’ sir, you are missing the point.
!alborz mountains viewpoint
i’m leaving tomorrow. my dslr has a new, permanent fog in the lens. my backpack smells like wet earth and fear. i think the rug in my room shifted while i was out. or maybe i’m just tired. the air’s still 13 degrees, but my bones think it’s freezing. chalus doesn’t give you answers. it just gives you a damp notebook and a feeling that something’s watching from the mist. and it’s probably just a goat.
ps: if you find a perfect, unfinished carpet pattern anywhere, do not buy it. that’s my professional opinion. also, check out this old iranian paranormal archive* i found-it’s a jpeg from 2003, but the stories match. link’s on my blog somewhere. maybe.
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- https://votoris.com/post/kyotos-got-a-grip-and-maybe-a-ghost-6
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