A Journey to Iran—Aug.17th, 2015. Flee Shanghai [Part 2] Now I am at the boarding gate, but it seems that the flight is delayed for sure. The clock has ticked over 23:00, and fatigue is crawling up on my face, but the people around me have shifted to another skin colour and dress code—— now there are more Iranians gathering around, and I guess it is their unique smell that has kept me awake for so long...haha! The majority of them are talking in Farsi, and only few are talking in some Turkic language (I guess it's Azeri.) Some of them are bringing their rugs to be prepared for daily prayer, some are listening to music, some are eating biscuits, some are reading, and some are sneezing on the seat... Finally the plane has arrived. Grabbing up my stuff, I don't even want to look back at this city. Go damn yourself, Shanghai. Salam, Tehran.