Always check the exchange rates before crossing a border. Well thats what I always tell myself and then forget when I'm about to cross and so it was no surprise when I got a shitty deal getting rid of my Pakistani Roupees.
So on to Iran. 'Destroy Israel and Hate America' and all that jazz. Surely it can't be that bad? Unfortunately I see at a half torn sticker on the border post wall that has that very slogan as I enter the country but don't think it a terribly good idea to take a picture, they're a wee bit sensitive here you know. Don't take pictures of sensitive sights (including anything even vaguely 'nuclear-ish) and definitely don't look at the women is what I've been told. If you fancy a bit of adultery in Iran and get caught, it could be the very last thing you do. Apparently the remedy here is as follows: For men, you get buried up to your waist with your hands tied behind your back and then a skip load of masonry is swiftly deposited on your head. For the ladies, they get much the same treatment only they get buried up to their neck for variation. Iran is also one of the few countries that still executes child crims under the age of 18. And with all that in mind, lets have some fun!
But not before I get my first police escort from the border to Bam, some 400kms away. As its lunchtime, I'd figured on arriving in Bam just in time for tea and biscuits about 5 hours later. The guy I was assigned first stood next to my bike as I sat there getting my gear on and then I realised he actually thought he was coming on the back of it. (Its a DR650 with luggage- NOT at all suitable for passengers I'm afraid). After explaining in sign language that I hoped he would enjoy his rather long jog, he swiftly grabbed my passport back off me and ran back to the office like some schoolboy running to headmaster because he'd been bullied! Anyway, we went through this routine a couple of more times before he finally got the message that he wasn't going to be my 'bitch' for the day and grumpily hitched a lift in a truck. As there was no petrol near the border, they police just filled my tank from jerry cans which made a nice change from attempting to extract bribes from me.
But it wasn't that smooth from then on though, before we even left Zahedan, I must have been passed between 3 or 4 different sets of cops. Then on the open road and my eye constantly on the time (it was now well past 3.30pm) we would advance for a few miles, then stop in a 'Prayer Stop' lay-by and have to wait for the changing of the guards before we could move again. At one such stop, we pulled in to a bleak spot by the side of the road and the chief crossed over the road and had his binoculars and radio out while two other armed guys went forward and behind and another over the small hill to the side and then there was a bit of radio action going on. All the time, I was sitting on the bike wondering what the fuck was going on. One of my escorts was a pick-up truck with the biggest bloody machine gun I've ever seen mounted on the back with the operators in their Arabian head scarfs. Because there were just so many changes of escorts, (at least 15) I ended up having to ride in the dark for about 3 hours which was not an awful lot of fun, mainly thanks to the Iranian drivers who either don't bother to use their headlights or when they do, they drive with their lights on full beam thus blinding me most of the time. I was so exhausted and hungry by this time (all I'd eaten all day were biscuits and crisps) that when we finally made it to Bam and Akbars Guest House, Akbar himself offered to go and get a kebab for me which was a nice gesture but unfortunately it was one of the driest things I've ever tried to eat.
Akbar and guest in Bam
The Citadel post earthquake
From Bam, I rode to Kerman and Yazd although since I left Pakistan, I'd been feeling lousy with the usual bugs so it was a pretty miserable ride involving running to lovely squat toilets in truck stops but boy was I glad they were there. Yazd was a pretty nice city and in the evenings, the streets came alive with traders, shoppers and families all doing their thing so it was a nice place to relax for a couple of days after all the hassles of the last few days and buy some antibiotics!
Next I rode to Esfahan which turned out to be my favorite place in Iran as i had siuch a nice time there. Although you paid more for less at the hostel there, the city had more than enough to keep me amused for a couple of days. On the first night, I took a long walk along the river past about several really beautiful old stone bridges and under the arches of one of them, several local men were standing singing very stirring versions of Iranian folk songs to crowds of people and all along the riverbanks, every available space was taken up with groups of picniking Iranians sitting on their carpets with huge spreads of food, all having a great time. It was in the bazaar the next day that I met Hamid, who stopped to chat to me while I was walking in the Bazaar and he took me to an old tea house where we smoked a big Hookah waterpipe and drank tea. We got chatting to some other people in the teahouse and must have spent a couple of hours chatting away in this great surrounding of wonderfully decorated vaulted ceilings and mint and apple smoke. I was actually looking for some souvenirs to bring back home and Hamid met up with me again later to take me to a great little shop he knew away from the bazaar which was cheaper but full of genuinely stunning handmade items. As we left, I offered to get Hamid a drink somewhere as thanks for helping me but he kindly refused and just said he was glad to help. The more Iranians you meet, the more you come to realise what a wonderfuly open and friendly bunch they are and although I was half expecting it when I arrived, after what I'd been told by others, I guess its not until you experience their hospitality and kindness for yourself that you really find out.
Sometimes thay can be a wee bit too friendly though and when I was leaving Esfahan, I tried a couple of bike shops for another spare inner tube as I'd had another blowout on the way to Esfahan. I managed to find a 21" for the front but while the owner was off phoning around for a 17" for the rear, a guy who worked next door asked me over for a drink. It turned out the place was some sort of tinned food distribution warehouse and after being given very nice homemade lemonade and given offers of accommodation, I found out the only tube I could get would cost $50 so I decided to push on instead. As I was getting ready to leave, my new friends gave me a bag brimming with tins of pineaple, tuna and baked beans! There must have been 20 tins in the bag and although I had no idea how I was going to carry them, I knew I couldn't refuse their kind gift either! From Esfahan, I rode on to Qazvin to see the Alamut Fortress which turned out to be more Historic Scotland than National Trust if you know what I mean. In Tabriz while looking for a gas station and some accommodation, a local guy got me to follow him to his house where I met his entire family. Someone else then turned up with a jerry can of fuel for me and we got the bike filled up (locals have a card they use to buy petrol and whilst I've mostly always managed to buy fuel in Iran, it sometimes take a long time and you have to find someone willing to use their card to get yout petrol). My new host then offered to lead me to a hotel and we set of with him on his cousins bike in front. I would normally rather have found myself a hotel as by this time, it was now dark and not my favorite time to be house hunting but was so tired, I let myself be led around Tabriz. First we ended up on a road going to the airport which was pointed out to me (thanks) and then we got caught up in a wedding procession, full of beeping horns and dodgy driving. (The Iranians aren't terribly sure what to do at traffic lights and tend to just keep going through red lights than waiting for the lights to change and so kind of 'merge' with the other flow of traffic- still, they beat Pakistan and India at driving hands down!). Finally at about 9pm, I was taken to a hotel that turned out to cost $27 which was about double my budget, miles from where I'd planned to stay and I kind of wished I'd just been able to get myself a hotel. It was on the outskirts of town and on the road I'd be taking the next day and was by now just so tired, I said I'd take it. My host had by this point now offered to let me stay at his house which was miles away but I thanked him and started getting my luggage off the bike round the back of the hotel. While he was helping with my bags, he blurted out that he 'loved me' and at that point kind of figured that $27 probably wasn't such a bad deal. The next day I rode on to the border at Sero to cross into Turkey which involved a short ferry ride across the lake and some more hassles getting fuel before crossing the border.
So final thoughts on Iran. It kind of reminds me of Colombia a little which has had plenty of its own bad press around the rest of the world and has some areas with security problems that are well managed by the police and army. But when you actually go to Iran, you find nothing but the most friendly and helpful people, beautiful architecture and a fascinating history. On the downside, there's some fairly long, boring stretches of desert and the kebabs could be a wee bit more exciting...
Since the well documented terrible earthquake in 2003, Bam has been trying to get back on its feet again and Akbar's Guest House is no exception. Akbar has made good progress in rebuilding his guest house but will still be a while before it's completed. He was the first Iranain I'd properly met so far and is one of the friendliest people you could hope to meet. Nothing was too much trouble for him and he was really great fun to chat to although hearing his stories about the earthquake first hand was pretty harrowing. In addition to the absolutely huge loss of people, the city also suffered another loss, that of its beautiful Citadel, one of the biggest adobe structures in the world. You can see plenty of pictures of it before and after the earthquake but seeing it now firsthand in addition to the many ruined buildings in and around Bam, it gives you just a slightest idea as to the extent of the massive devastation that occurred here in 2003. By the way, Akbar is a former teacher and loves puzzles. Here's one of them: There are two trees with different numbers of birds in each. If one bird flies from the first tree over to the second tree, there will be double the number of birds in that tree than first. But if one bird flies from the second tree to the first tree, there will be the equal numbers of birds in each tree. So how many birds are there to start with?
Akbar and guest in Bam
The Citadel post earthquakeFrom Bam, I rode to Kerman and Yazd although since I left Pakistan, I'd been feeling lousy with the usual bugs so it was a pretty miserable ride involving running to lovely squat toilets in truck stops but boy was I glad they were there. Yazd was a pretty nice city and in the evenings, the streets came alive with traders, shoppers and families all doing their thing so it was a nice place to relax for a couple of days after all the hassles of the last few days and buy some antibiotics!
Next I rode to Esfahan which turned out to be my favorite place in Iran as i had siuch a nice time there. Although you paid more for less at the hostel there, the city had more than enough to keep me amused for a couple of days. On the first night, I took a long walk along the river past about several really beautiful old stone bridges and under the arches of one of them, several local men were standing singing very stirring versions of Iranian folk songs to crowds of people and all along the riverbanks, every available space was taken up with groups of picniking Iranians sitting on their carpets with huge spreads of food, all having a great time. It was in the bazaar the next day that I met Hamid, who stopped to chat to me while I was walking in the Bazaar and he took me to an old tea house where we smoked a big Hookah waterpipe and drank tea. We got chatting to some other people in the teahouse and must have spent a couple of hours chatting away in this great surrounding of wonderfully decorated vaulted ceilings and mint and apple smoke. I was actually looking for some souvenirs to bring back home and Hamid met up with me again later to take me to a great little shop he knew away from the bazaar which was cheaper but full of genuinely stunning handmade items. As we left, I offered to get Hamid a drink somewhere as thanks for helping me but he kindly refused and just said he was glad to help. The more Iranians you meet, the more you come to realise what a wonderfuly open and friendly bunch they are and although I was half expecting it when I arrived, after what I'd been told by others, I guess its not until you experience their hospitality and kindness for yourself that you really find out.
Sometimes thay can be a wee bit too friendly though and when I was leaving Esfahan, I tried a couple of bike shops for another spare inner tube as I'd had another blowout on the way to Esfahan. I managed to find a 21" for the front but while the owner was off phoning around for a 17" for the rear, a guy who worked next door asked me over for a drink. It turned out the place was some sort of tinned food distribution warehouse and after being given very nice homemade lemonade and given offers of accommodation, I found out the only tube I could get would cost $50 so I decided to push on instead. As I was getting ready to leave, my new friends gave me a bag brimming with tins of pineaple, tuna and baked beans! There must have been 20 tins in the bag and although I had no idea how I was going to carry them, I knew I couldn't refuse their kind gift either! From Esfahan, I rode on to Qazvin to see the Alamut Fortress which turned out to be more Historic Scotland than National Trust if you know what I mean. In Tabriz while looking for a gas station and some accommodation, a local guy got me to follow him to his house where I met his entire family. Someone else then turned up with a jerry can of fuel for me and we got the bike filled up (locals have a card they use to buy petrol and whilst I've mostly always managed to buy fuel in Iran, it sometimes take a long time and you have to find someone willing to use their card to get yout petrol). My new host then offered to lead me to a hotel and we set of with him on his cousins bike in front. I would normally rather have found myself a hotel as by this time, it was now dark and not my favorite time to be house hunting but was so tired, I let myself be led around Tabriz. First we ended up on a road going to the airport which was pointed out to me (thanks) and then we got caught up in a wedding procession, full of beeping horns and dodgy driving. (The Iranians aren't terribly sure what to do at traffic lights and tend to just keep going through red lights than waiting for the lights to change and so kind of 'merge' with the other flow of traffic- still, they beat Pakistan and India at driving hands down!). Finally at about 9pm, I was taken to a hotel that turned out to cost $27 which was about double my budget, miles from where I'd planned to stay and I kind of wished I'd just been able to get myself a hotel. It was on the outskirts of town and on the road I'd be taking the next day and was by now just so tired, I said I'd take it. My host had by this point now offered to let me stay at his house which was miles away but I thanked him and started getting my luggage off the bike round the back of the hotel. While he was helping with my bags, he blurted out that he 'loved me' and at that point kind of figured that $27 probably wasn't such a bad deal. The next day I rode on to the border at Sero to cross into Turkey which involved a short ferry ride across the lake and some more hassles getting fuel before crossing the border.
So final thoughts on Iran. It kind of reminds me of Colombia a little which has had plenty of its own bad press around the rest of the world and has some areas with security problems that are well managed by the police and army. But when you actually go to Iran, you find nothing but the most friendly and helpful people, beautiful architecture and a fascinating history. On the downside, there's some fairly long, boring stretches of desert and the kebabs could be a wee bit more exciting...
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