Chabahar Day 1: Sightseeing Chabahar with a Touch of Baluchi Clothing

I had heard there was a hotel near where we were staying, so we headed there for breakfast. When we arrived, there was no sign of an elaborate hotel buffet, so we turned back toward the local market stalls (Dakkeh Bazar). After a short walk, we found a local café bustling with people having breakfast.

Here is an essential tip: Chabahar is divided into two distinct parts—the Free Trade Zone and Chabahar city itself. Coming from Konarak, you enter the Free Trade Zone first, which is filled with shopping centers offering goods at relatively reasonable prices. In this area, don't miss the beach near Lipar Hotel; there is even a designated spot where you can camp overnight.

Chabahar city, like most small towns in Iran, is split into two halves by a main boulevard. On the northern side lies the Balukat Bazaar. You can find all kinds of Balochi spices here, alongside authentic Attari shops. I don't mean herbal distillates shops; Attari literally means perfume shops. They sell an array of authentic Balochi incense (Oudh) and products you cannot find anywhere else.

It was interesting to note that very few women were present in the cafes and eateries around the historic quarter. Breakfast consisted of a spiced chickpea dish called Kabuli paired with an exciting flatbread called Paratha. The dough is spread over a piping-hot metal griddle with oil added continuously while cooking, meaning it bakes and fries simultaneously. Rich and spicy, it wasn't a massive portion, but it kept us completely full until midday.

After breakfast, we strolled through the bazaar. Given that everyone was wearing traditional Balochi clothing, their glances made it clear we were outsiders. So, we decided to blend in. We found an alley lined with tailoring workshops dedicated entirely to Balochi attire. They had ready-made clothes, but the fabric was cheap synthetic imports. Tailoring a custom set usually takes at least three days, especially during the busy pre-New Year rush.

We stopped by a fabric shop where the shopkeeper showed us quality Japanese textiles, but they exceeded our budget. We explained that we were travelers needing traditional attire just for our short trip. Instead of pushing a sale or pretending nothing else existed, he generously led us to a fellow shopkeeper who carried the exact material we were looking for. I will definitely speak more about the genuine warmth and generosity of the Balochi people.

At the second fabric shop, we selected our color and material. I told the shopkeeper that our time was limited; without a second thought, he personally carried the fabric to the tailor and placed our rush order. I will never forget the sheer excitement on my face as they took my measurements.

They initially said the clothes would be ready tomorrow, on the first day of Farvardin (Nowruz). Pleased, we headed off for lunch. I firmly believe in eating at the oldest, most traditional eateries to taste true local flavors; tourist restaurants tend to dilute recipes for generic palates. We picked Gharib Nawaz Café & Restaurant. Just like the morning spot, the clientele was entirely male. It was a rectangular hall with plastic chairs and tables that were undeniably greasy. It was far from spotless, but the food was incredible. We had daal curry with biryani—keep in mind that Chabahar's biryani bears no resemblance to Isfahan's Beryani!

After lunch, we headed toward Darya-ye Koochak (Small Sea). Chabahar has two famous shores: Small Sea and Large Sea. As I strolled along the water photographing wooden fishing boats (Lenjes), I caught the eye of some fishermen on board. They tossed down a long rope, and I climbed aboard. After exchanging greetings, I realized none of them spoke Persian, and I knew no Balochi. Still, we chatted and laughed together. You might wonder how: body language is a remarkable thing that bridges communication effortlessly.

After spending time with the fishermen, it was time to unwind, so I headed to Mokran Restaurant. Mokran (or Makran) is the historical name for the Gulf of Oman, with the Makran coastline stretching from Jask all the way toward Karachi.

At the restaurant, I ordered traditional treats alongside a local hookah. They brought a flask of Sheer Chai (spiced milk tea) and a mountain wild-pistachio sap (Gowanjak) hookah—both tasted heavenly. They were so good that a big chunk of my travel budget ended up going toward milk tea and hookah. I will elaborate on the milk tea later.

Before I could finish my last cup, my phone rang: the tailor had good news! We hailed a cab straight to the shop. Back then, ride-hailing apps like Snapp or Tapsi hadn't reached Chabahar yet; taxis were chartered for flat rates—3,000 Tomans within Chabahar and 5,000 Tomans to the Free Trade Zone.

We arrived quickly and tried everything on. Knowing we were travelers in a rush, the tailor had finished the clothes in just a few hours instead of a full day—bless him! We thanked him profusely.

The traditional Balochi outfit features a very long tunic and exceptionally wide-legged trousers. We adjusted the waist with a cotton drawstring, tying off the excess and tucking it in. I added a Balochi shawl (Shawl) and skullcap (Araqchin) to complete the look. Truth be told, I was over the moon! The outfit is remarkably lightweight and breezy, thoughtfully tailored for the climate. Even for wading into the water, the cuffs taper just enough so you can pull the trouser legs up below the knee, instantly turning them into shorts.

For dinner at Delhi Darbar Restaurant, we ordered mutton karahi and "White Karahi." Yes, literally "White"—the locals naturally incorporate English loanwords due to frequent trade and interaction with Pakistan. After dinner, we headed toward Lipar Hotel—not to stay in a room, but to enjoy its beachside café.

Down by the shore, I met a group of touring cyclists who had set up camp and were cooking dinner around a campfire. We said hello, pitched our tent right beside them, and fell asleep to the soothing sound of the ocean waves.