Day 56, Esfhan, Extended...
Met an Iraqi staying out our hostel, talked about his home situation and the war.
He was very happy that the US had come to Iraqi and got rid of Saddam Hussien and very excited about the elections in Iraqi. Of coarse he was now keen for the US army to leave and he said things were getting better in Iraq.
Day 57, Yazd
The environment is very desert like now and although not the rolling sand dunes one images, it is dusty sand plains with little vegetation and the occasional tumble weed for company.
Rode out to Chakchak an important fire worship and temple Pilgrim site.
Day 58, Yazd
After leaving my friends in Shiraz, I felt a little lonely in Yazd. I have found this can happen when you make friends with some locals it feels great lots of questions and a few jokes and then you have to move on, and to some extent your not ready to just make new friends straight away and you miss the ones you had.
Despite all that the architecture of Yazd is amazing, the buildings are mostly of mud composition and many have tall wind towers that catch the slightest breeze and carry it into the building. The walls are often organic shapes as they are hand crafted and this makes for fascinating alleys and narrow streets with a incredible array of curves and arches and bulges.
Day 59, Shiraz,
A good ride to Shiraz, went through a town with a 4000 year old cypress tree - well I was impressed. Had late lunch picnic with some electrical engineers whom I had just met and on leaving one of them gave we an engraved knife from his home city I had only met him 15 minutes previously.
Day 60, Shiraz,
Had a big wander around town, went to the grave of Harfez famous Iranian poet,felt compelled to buy a book, not sure the poetry translates that well. Went inside a famous Muslim shrine with incredible mirror work on the interior, shouldn't really have been in there as no Muslims are not allowed, but no one questioned me maybe it is the beard!
Later that evening I may have received my divine retribution as I was swindled out of 20 dollars, but a local shark.
Day 61, Perspolis,
Amazing site and the tomb of Darius the great was incredible too. Really a wonder of the ancient world. Must have been truly fantastic in its day, if it hadn't have been for Alexander the great maybe more of it would have remained. Some Iranians are still a little bitter about this..
Stayed the night in the Mosque in the site complex. Got a good shot of the site in moonlight...
Day 62, Sirijan,
Stayed the night outside a Fire station on the street in my tent. The firemen were hilarious.
Day 63, Kerman,
Took some really beautiful mountain roads to arrive at Kerman. Really feel that although southern Iran is largely desert the mountains and landscape are incredible. Desolate, wind swept places but really fantastic to see and to travel through.
In the evening met some young guys who had just finished uni, we hatched a plan to go to the desert the next day, to a place called Kalute (Kalut).
Day 64 Kerman,
An early start, we had two cars, one went to get food for a picnic and we headed across a mountain range towards Kalute, stopped by the police en route but when they saw my lost face they waved us on. Later we stopped and one of the guys opened the boot and proudly pulled out a bottle of Scotch. One of the others turned to me and said this is why we were nervous when they stopped us, i was oblivious to all this.
Later we had a phone call from car 2, obviously no one had warned them of the police and they also had decided to bring a bottle of spirit and they too had been stopped. Unfortunately they found it and in Iran this is when you get worried. Car 2 weren't sure how serious it was weather a bribe would get them out of it or not so we carried on hoping they would join us soon.
Kalut was beautiful, this was something like you would image a desert to be. Large rolling dunes, deep sand and very hot, in fact the second hottest place on the planet after death valley in the states. Unfortunately it was all a little over shadowed by our friends misfortune in the second car.
We stayed a while I decided it would be a good place to have your ashes scattered should the need a rise and then we left. On the way back phone calls came in that everything wasn't alright and that one of the guys Mohammad, the guy I had met first was being kept in over night and would see a judge the next day... all for a small bottle of whisky.
Day 65 Bam,
Next day Mohammad saw the judge paid a fine and was released. Don't think it was fun and probably hurt his pocket more but some day he will have a good stor to tell I guess.
Met some completely insane guy in Mahane, travelling you are susceptible to meeting the strangest people.
I carried on to Bam, the road steadily became worse. As I cam towards Bam I saw a mixture of new breeze block style housing and piles of rubble. This was of coarse the site of a very bad earthquake some 5 years previously.
Stayed at a guesthouse that was in the process of being rebuilt, it had been completely flattened in the disaster and of the 13 guests at the time there were two fatalities. This has obviously deeply effected the owner, one of them had been British and riding an Enfield back to England from India. The bike mangled from the devastation now sat in a corner of the car park out the front, like a very sad memorial to the man.
Day 66 Bam,
The next day one of the the guest house owners friends took we around town and to the site of the famous citadel. This very old mud castle and city had been one of the most special sites in the whole of Iran and from photos I had seen it looked fantastic. Unfortunately the earthquake had destroyed about 80% of it. Once a bustling tourist resort now it looked like an archaeological site. People sifted through the dust, tractors removed wreckage. Rebuilding hand begun, but we joked that it would be our grand children who would one day be able to see the site in its former glory.
My guide had also been a victim of the earth quake, loosing his sister, his uncle and aunt and cousins. There had been 40,000 deaths from the quake, Bam was now only a population of 80,000.
I had never been to a site of a natural disaster as this before and whilst being very depressing, the people around me had persevered and were determined to rebuild better and be stronger.
Day 67 Iran, Pakistan Border
Along ride to the border, and I got there an hour after customs had closed. So I couldn't go through.
I put this down to the police escort that I had received. While most of these had been fairly efficient the last couple were farcical. One escort car pulled up by the side of the road to wait for the next escort car, this is how the system worked. We waited and waited, eventually a saloon pulls up and out hoped a soldier. It seems he had hitched a lift to meet us, he was my escort. He limped over to the bike, he obviously had an injury to his leg, he was unarmed and frankly looked as though he might fall over with the next gust of wind. He looked at the bike and preceded to explain that he would ride on the bike with me. Now if you have seen the bike loaded with my kit at this point you would probably have burst out laughing, I quickly made it clear this was not an option. So after a while the soldier flagged down another car and this fruit seller in a pick up became my escort with the limping unarmed soldier.
I had the same situation a little further on an unarmed guard without transport was supposed to be my escort. This time however no one would even stop for him. So I got off the bike and made out like there was a problem with it and the next car stopped and I had my escort. So i made it to the border intact if a little late.
I ended up camping a 100 meters from he gate in the car park, unescorted.
Day 68 Dalbandin
I was though the border no problem and here i was in Pakistan!
The road was straight from the border to Quetta 600km away. I would not make it by nightfall so I had to break the journey.
The road was very quiet and in places I could see on the horizon to my left Afghanistan. There was an occasdional police check point were I had to sign in.
Day 69 Quetta
Someone described it as a frontier town and that is exactly what I though you could describe it as. OK I haven't been to any before, but the mixture of faces, types of clothes, hats etc. This part of Pakistan is heavily defined by various tribes, Pashtuns, Afghans, Balochs, Sindhi. Its a big difference to Iran but quite exciting.
Actually that evening as I entered the hotel restaurant a very large boom came from outside some distance off, at first everyone including me looked a little nervous then some people were joking because it was rather like a movie, and that I was the culprit.
Day 70 Quetta
Next day I bought the local English paper and was unsurprised to read of a bomb going off in Quetta near the railway station. Someone had fired a rocket propelled grenade at a car, I decided to go down and have a look. There wasn't much to see except for a hole in a metal railing, a bent lamppost and broken glass on the ground.
On my way back I saw several bits of graffiti that were in support of the Taliban, all of a sudden the war on terror seemed to be quite close.
Strangely I wasn't frightened by this or the hype of fear that exists around Pakistan currently. Later I would be though.
I changed some money and later realised I had been fleeced by the money changer, a scam where they count out the correct amount hand it to you, you count it, then they grab it off you again and drop some of it into there lap. So having already been taken for a ride once this trip I headed back to the changing office. When I got there the changer put this hand out all sweet to shake mine and I just started shouting at him, he very quickly changed the expression on his face and puts his hand into his pocket and pulled out the missing currency. Quietly pleased and a little frightened I hastily took what I was owed and went and had a good cup of tea.
Day 71, Jacobabad
So this is were the fun began. I was told by the tourist office to head south east about 300km and then to head back up north east another 300km to get to Multan. When there is a direct road between Quetta and Multan but this is too dangerous apparently. No real reason was given.
I left Quetta taking the safer route, there is an area just north east of Quetta called Zhob and this has recently became a bit of a Taliban stronghold and unfortunately kidnappings and assassinations have become an all too common reality in Pakistan life.
Not long after leaving Quetta, I went through my first police check point and another. At this second he mentioned an escort, which his colleague dismissed.
Later I stopped for lunch, and as I finished a police pick-up pulled up, as i got ready to leave, as policeman came over and asked where I was going. I told him and he explained he was my escort. So of we headed together.
It was the usual thing, of stopping every now and then changing escort vehicles etc.
Eventually we came into Jacobabad. They took me to a hotel and I had hoped they would then leave me there but no.
Two armed police with AK47s stayed with me. They sat on the balcony next to my room keeping watch, they sat in the restaurant and had dinner with me, if I went up to my room, one of them would come too. We went to try and find an Internet and sure enough they came with me. Later they even came and sat in the room with me and watched Bollywood films loudly, until I said I was going to bed.
This must be the side to fame that sucks! For your own protection it felt more like house arrest. No one would come and talk to me as most people in Pakistan are not too keen on the police as most of them are pretty corrupt. Perhaps they were hoping I would pay them to go away!
Day 72, Bahawalpur
The next day I left Jacobabad, I had a police escort to the city limits and then I was free! It was misty in the fields and people were already at work, loading donkey drawn carts, with various crops, the countryside had a timeless feel, this was probably the way things had been done for hundreds of years.
I stopped to take a photo and my friends in blue showed up yet again.
I had been asking local people what the deal with the police escort was and no one could explain it, we were well clear of the North Western Frontier Province, where things really are a bit hairy and we were now well away from Afghanistan. Th Poilce just said it was dangerous, I started to get the oppression they just did because they enjoyed the ride. What could I do. Well I tried to do several things. Firstly I tried to out run them, but unfortunately due to my little bikes lack of power I never got to far. I though I had lost them and then there they would be again. I argued with myself that They couldn't arrest me for trying to escape, because I hadn;t done anything. Later they put me behind the escort so I couldn't out run them.
They would let me stop but as soon as someone realised I was with the police they would back off at a rate of knots. It just felt like I had lost that independent travel that was the beauty of having your own wheels.
By the end of the day I was totally fed up we were now in Punjab, generally regarded as the safest province of Pakistan and here they were still cramping my style.
I stopped and started shouting at them to leave me alone and that the whole thing was ridiculous. While they were still a little startled, I jumped on my bike and sped away. You know what I lost them! Yipee, i made it to a hotel undetected and relaxed. Later I went to reception to ask something and as I entered what you might call the lobby, there on my right was a smiling policeman. Great!
Day 73 Multan
Next morning he was still there, I had already resigned myself to play it by there rules. I obviously wasn't going to escape. They asked me what my plan was and I explained that I wanted to go and see some local sights, unfortunately when the chief security man turned up apparently this wasn't in his programme and I wasn't allowed to go. It wasn't dangerous, it just wasn't convenient for them. So i was escorted on my way to Multan.
When we got to Multan they took me to my requested hotel, getting lost beforehand. I entered and went to reception as I asked if there was a room the police filed in. Surprise, surprise there was no room!
This happened again at the next hotel, except this time, before the owner had seen the police there was room, when they came in all of a sudden there wasn't. At this point I flipped out and suddenly there was room again and finally 10 minutes later the police left. i was alone, finally.
I went up to the city fort and met some Pakistani's, it was great to finally be able to chat to people.
That is what was really frustrating about the experience with the police, it was more to do with the way the way they had dominated my thoughts over the last few days.
Day 74 Multan
Just hung out and tried to get accustomed to Pakistan... WOW what a difference to Iran. It is likely really stepping back in time... The wealth gap here is huge.
I don't really think you can appreciate what it is like to walk down the street here until you have done it for real. Words can not describe it, but I will try...
Take a road, lay it, no markings on it. Now line either side of it with sand and dirt, no pavement. Then add rows of very run down buildings, the type that might be a squat or abandoned property in England. Put an open sewer either side. Add piles of rubbish, plastic, straw, paper, cigarette buts. Then add traffic consisting of rickshaws emitting choking smoke, lots of small motorbikes, very loud consistent honking minibuses and throw in donkey and carts, horse and carts and oxen and carts and the occasional goat on the side of the road and roadkill, usually cats or dogs. Finally add the people lots of them, carrying things, collecting things, dropping things, sometimes peeing into the sewer. Layer the whole picture with a haze of smog and you almost have the picture. Its noisy, smelly but very colourful and it has quite an impact!
Tomorrow to Lahore, so we will see what that's all about...
Monday 24 November 2008
Saturday 8 November 2008
A persian love affair....
Day 41,
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
Once out of Tabriz it was relatively pleasent journey upto Ahar the town
before the road climbs more sharply up to Kaleyabar. The landscape thus far
had been barren rock and sand. With greenery mainly confined to the
carefully manicured island strips in towns that prevent traffic from
driving on the opposite side of the road and to the banks of meanding rivers
that occasionally cut through the arid countryside.
Beyond Ahar however as the land rose and the climate became more temperate,
the landscape broke out into fertile pastures and inbetween wooded areas
planted with Walnut trees and orchards.
Rising still further up towards 2000m the route disappeared into a thick
fog, and the air temperature droped quickly, forcing me to stop and tie my
scarf around my face.
I eventually arrived in Kaleybar and the small mountian town was shrouded in
a very low opressive cloud that hid the top of the mountain
and Babak castle. I did what one can only do in this sort of situation and
had a chai!
As with Turkey, Iranian's take sugar with there tea and not milk. Normally
about 3 cubes, but rather than put these in the cup and use a spoon to
dissolve them, they pop the cube into there mouth and drink the tea over it,
thus saving on washing up! Now I tried this but I couldn't get it to work
and alway seemed to end up with a very sugery first mouthful and not much
after. In the tea house come restuarant, there was a group of 6 Iranains at
another table, they were curious to who I was and where I was from as I had
now become accustomed to. They offered me some soup and I ordered a kebab,
there was some discussion over my job and where I was staying. After further
discussion much in Farsi amongst themselves and the restaurant
proprieter, one of the chaps from the table said I must stay with him and
his family that evening as the hotel I wanted to stay in was closed. Ok this
sounded good to me, in the meantime he had also generously paid for my meal
too. We arranged to meet back at 6pm after he finished work.
I filled a few hours knocking about the town, meeting one of the town
photographers and having more chai and a wate pipe. Met some youths who were
fairly pleasent, tried to speak english to me with much difficulty and with
some hysterics from the assembly of friends, always a little disconcerting.
Eventually I returned to the restuarant, which was now shut, but someone
quickly came and opened it. 6pm came and went and after a while the
restaurant propriter and assembled curious colleagues, suggested he wasn't
coming, infact I think they tried to call him. I had been stood up. I wasn't
devastated as he wasn't Claudi Schiffer and I knew something else would
unfold. Eventually after some argument between the gahered locals as to who
would put me up and strangely it seemed I wasn't short of offers, it was
decided I was to stay with the propriter, a young chap called Babak, named
of coarse after the castle. At this stage I didn't really care who I stayed
with provided I had a little warmth and a roof and I gratefully accepted. We
stayed awhile in the restuarant and people came and went and answered the
inevitable rally of questions regarding my name, where I was from etc. At
about 8pm I was taken to his home just behind the restaurant.
It turned out he had three other brothers and one sister. One brother was
married and ran the small shop next door, one helped in the restuarant and
the other was still at school. The sister who seemed to speak Ok english,
but unfotunately stayed fairly hidden away, helped at home and had finished
university.
There home was spacious mainly due to the lack of furniture. I have since
discovered this is fairly typical of traditional homes. The floor was
covered in rugs, that stretch from wall to wall, with some cushions arranged
along the walls near the gas burner, with a TV in one corner on a display
unit. There was a small kitchen and two further spaces curtained off from
the main living room. Some fake flowers and pictures sparsley adourned the
walls, one could almost say it was modernist bungalow, with the odd ethenic
and post modern touch.
I ate with the men and the women ate in the kitchen. This was of coarse done
on the floor using a large sort of picnic sheet. We had already removed our
shoes at the front door, so tucked our socks under the sheet so it became a
sort of table cloth come servette. After dinner using various aids,
including my Point it book, sound effects and some scraps of Farsi in the
lonely planet, i communciated the best i could. We drank much tea, which now
always came with a spoon much to there amusement, nuts, fruit etc. At one
point a small bottle of the infamous home brew appeared but I think that
with the whole family present, I prevented from trying it. It smelt pretty
strong though.
Time went on and I was asked at what time I usually went to sleep. Now this
was tricky because, basically everyone will stay up till you say you would
like to go to sleep. So i said about 11pm, which was overshot by some
protracted discussion. Nearing midnight the bedding came out and the men
headed for one area and the women another. I was directed to a futon style
matress on the floor. I wasn't really sure what the dress code was for bed
so I went with boxers and a T-shirt, everyone else seemed to have some sort
of track suit bottoms, I didn't seem to cause offence though. I think I fell
asleep within minutes of being in bed.
Day 42,
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
I woke hoping to head for the castle, unfortunately the weather was still dismally foggy. So i kicked around in the village and then I went with one of the brothers to there garden. The weather was very wet and it felt like a bit of a ridiculous mission. i say mission because the garden was not a back garden but more of an oversize allotment about 5 mins from the town on a mountian side. When we got there, i could hear frenzied dog barking, great I thought so far wild dogs and I haven't got on too well.
The dog came running like a shot out of a gun towards me teeth blazing, I had been given the backpack to carry which contained some chicken we planned to barbeque, so the dog saw me as a long awaited meal!
Thankfully Babak had some control over the beast and at the last moment steered him away from my vunerable (juicy looking) leg. the dog I found out was wild and had been found on the mountain and recieved food from the family, some what sporadically I guessed and in turn it acted as a guard dog over there garden. It was pretty good at this as it demonstrated noty only to me but to a passing sheperd scaring the living daylight out of the poor man and almost taking his arm off. I have experienced this else where and it seems to be a fairly common method of keeping intruders out. Unfortunately we couldn't got to the main garden as the river one must cross to get there had swelled under the rainfall so we had to do with there other orchard. my host set about lighting a fire to cook the chicken, now everything was pretty wet and at this stage I was getting a little frustrated being sat in a wet muddy ground next to a beast (the dog) that was plainly hungrier than i was. Eventually some petrol appeared from somewhere and my friends fire lighting skills came out. The petrol I didn't mind to much but when also tried to ignite the collected wood with a plastic crate he had found, i did step in and suggest that perhaps if we planned on consuming the cooked goods I would prefer them not to be tinged with plastic fumes. In the end the open fire kebabs we cooked were great and the dog got his share.
When we returned to the house the father of the family had returned from Tabriz along with his brother and through broken english the conversation tunred to politics.
Iranians are intruged to know what the English people think about Iran and why the goverment has a problem with Iran. I gently explained that bar the nuclear issue we do not hear a great deal of Iran in our press. Interestingly the family explained that like the people I had met in Tabriz, they felt more connected to Azerbaijan than Iran. In fact they were rightly upset with the current goverment, who had last year banned an annual festival that took place at Babak castle that many Azari (people of the region) went to. The festival was a celebration of Babak an anciet freeman who resided in the castle when the region had much more power. The festival consisted of people whereing local dress, drinking (alcohol) and general merriment. The local area was rightly very upset about this. The goverments reason, being that they felt it was breeding a desire for autonomy, and they strictly enforced the ban with a massive police presence on the day and time in jail for anyone who wouldn't abide by this. For me this was one of the first indication of how parnoid the Iran state is... perhaps rightly so.
That night we had a huge family meal and later I went hunting with the boys of the family. We didn't see a thing, i was jokingly blamed... I suggested they cam to England as there are plenty of Rabbits...
OK TIME TO BE BRIEF AGAIN
Day 43,
Sara'eyn,
Bit of dump, Iranian tourist resort... hot spring meant to cure anything from baldness to MS. So went for a swim and surprise, surprise still bald! Also saw lots of other people will seriouys aliments, felt a little wierd.
Met some Iranian kids, who were very curious to find out about England, the US etc. They wanted to know about how it is with English girls, I told them they are nightmare... talked about drinking, music, Iranain dating... etc. They were around all around 16 years old, so you can imagine there interests. They really weren't keen on the goverment, and dreamt of leaving Iran. Unfortunately I have found this too often to be the case...
Day 44,
Masuleh,
Beautiful stepped village in the mountains, unfortunately shrouded in fog and drizzle. Met a funny Iranian guy who was the son of a hotelier, Soroosh. Stayed in a hut rather like those of south east asia, but with out the beach and sunshine. Still very peaceful.
Read my book.
Day 45
Masuleh
Went for a walk with my umbrella, still managed to get soaked, and fall over covering myself in mud.
In the afternoon, met some design, beauty and english students. They were very funny and again curious. Not to much English between them, but more reason for me to speak Farsi, which I tried absimally.
Exchanged numbers with them.
Day 46
Zanjan
Headed off for Zanjan, got out of the fog that covers the Caspian coast and travelled up a wide river valley, eventually passing a large dam and a bank of wind turbines on the other side of the resevoir. The landscape was very lunar-esk, created by Volcano's thousands of years ago. Crossed another mountain range, higher this time and much colder, in fact the road passed up into the cloud before dropping down the otherside into sun.
Stayed in a filthy hotel, but met a friendly engineer over tea who I showed we around and we had something to eat. Explained to his friend I didn't believe in god much to his dismay... i have had this reaction a few times now in Iran.
Day 47
Takestan
Before Takestan i went to see a large domed building with much scaffold. It was a Unesco world hertiage site, it was quite empressive, but I think they had quite alot of work still to do on it.
Takestan was a bit of dump and nothing to see but I met up with two friends that I had made in Masuleh. Both called Maryam, both were heading for Tehran so we hung out and in the end I stayed with a family who were there friends.
The family's daughter was a good painter and I expressed an interest and immediatley ever painting she had ever done appeared. She had talent, but unfortunately now where to use it...
One of the son in laws was a hairdresser and was keen to rid me of my now large beard but I was having none of it... they didn't really get the idea behind growing it, mind you I am starting to have doubts too... some said I look like across between Dostyevski and Castro... not sure who would be better..
Day 48
Qazvin
In the morning I went to the internet to show the Maryam's were I was bought up, school, university, designers I liked etc. Unfortunately most music sites, facebook and myspace are blocked here. So the internet show did something that got by it and I showed them the photo's from facebook. I think some of them, from some of our rather heavier nights out were perhaps a little to different from the life they know.
After that it was time to hit the road, they bought me a present before I left of a plastic rose to put on the bike, it was my request, I thought it went well with the bell from Austria.
Qazvin, arrived late, not a bad city, a few interesting things to see.
Met a nice guy who ran a model airplane shop.
Day 49
Qazvin,
Went for a wonder to see the sites... almost got run over by a car (actualy it wasnt that close), then the driver proceeded to beckon me into his car and take me for a tea at his tailor shop. he was very comical and he had a good banter with his staff. None could speak english but I felt very relaxed.
Later I met up with the airplane shop man and he had a friend with him who was a manager at the Unilever factory. He could speak good english. We went for a drive around the city and i saw some of the sites. Conversation turned to politics and I had the first proper discussion about USA and Israel.
I have to say my lack of knowledge on Zionism and the foundation of Israel put me at a disadvantage, but he really wasn't keen on its existence in the middle east. He inferred that perhaps the holocaust didn't happen also, which I found a little surprising. I had read a newspaper earlier that day and been watching Iranian news and I have to say it is absolute drivel! It is so full of propoganda it is not a surprise that you might end up thinking everyone is out to get you.
In fairness both sides of Israel's and Iran's goverment have said very foolish things, my only hope is that it is only retoric.
We discussed Iraq, there is still alot of pain in Iran from the war that we heard little about between Iraq and Iran. 1 million people lost there lives in virtual trench warfare till 1990. Everywhere you go here you see dedications to the Martyrs of the war.
Day 50
Tehran
Came to Tehran and surprisingly found a Hotel and parked the bike all relatively easily.
Tehran traffic is absurd, I have already discussed this though so I will not dwell, except to say "What is wrong with these people!"
Met up with the brother of a friend of my sisters, who I will call Farzad. Very interesting discussing with him the politics of the middle east and the history of the revolution.
There were a couple of things in particular that I want to share, there is a opinion that Iran is trying to negotiate itself as the voice of the Islamic world and essentially the middle east. The goverment does seem obessed with foriegn policy and demonising the US. Everywhere I go people ask me what people in the US and England think of Iran, expecting me to say everyone thinks it is dangerous and a scary country. I tell them honestly that we don't hear much about Iran and what we do usually involves the Nuclear facilities. People who think of it as scary are usually ignorant of the reality.
Unfortunately I have seen many down with Israel and US posters since I have been here and seen a large rally, attended by what looked like bussed in school children, all of whom were girls, who I doubt had any real knowledge of the US or its foriegn policy. This by and large does not mirror the general publics opinion, which is dominated by curiosity rather than any sort of hatred. In fact I met two Americains today, who have only been welcomed since they have been in Iran.
Back to the conversation with Farzad, we also talked about the revolution, he told me that obiviously many people lost there business after the fall of the Shar, and many of the Communists who helped establish it were later, tried and put to death. There are theories that perhaps, our old friend the US actually supported and sponsored the Islamic groups after the revelution as they were scared the Communists might get control of the country.
We also talked about Tehran and really if you have the money it is like any other city. You can drink, you can party, you can have a girlfriend, you get into fights, it seems more often with the police than anyone else. You can walk around with girls your are not related to or married to with out being stopped by the police, unlike the rest of Iran.
Day 51
Tehran.
The next day I put this into practise meeting up with one of the Maryams. We went to the Contemporary Art Museum which was really quite good. Then the photographers gallery, which had a celebration of the Hajib, much to Marayam's disgust (she wasn't a fan of this item of clothing), then the National Jewel Museum. My god Iran has alot of jewels and jewellery. Really the most incrediable peieces, I think I have ever seen, not that I am an expert, but I did do a show for a Prince once, don't you know.
Later I met up with a Dutch journalist I had met. He was in Tehran, undercover to write about the US election. To be honest I didn't think there was much of a story here as people didn't really seem to care... perhaps slightly in favour of Barrack, but to them it was all the same.
Then we bumped into a another Dutch journalist however she wasn't writing a story. We went to the Armenian Club, which I think is one of the only restauarants in Tehran where you don't have to wear a Hijab. Armenians are generally Christians and tend to be more openly drinkers and non hijab wearers. I think about 5% of the Iranian population are Armenians.
Day 52,
Tehran,
Hung out with Maryam again, we went to the Bazaar, which has a huge economic influence on the country, it is where alot of the big deals are done. Then we went to the Iran National Museum, which had some great pieces from Persopolis.
Later met Farzad and his girlfriend for dinner. Had very tasty kebabs... I have had alot of kebabs since I have been in Iran, however these were definitely worth a mention.
Day 53,
Tehran,
Saw a demonstration outside the US Den of Espionage (Formally the US Embassy), this is where the CIA, with Britains backing, plotted to over throw the Iranian goverment with a Coup that took place in 1953 as it had nationalised Anglo-Iranian Oil and we weren't happy about the loss of revenue.In 1979 this where the revolutionary guard stormed the building at the begining of the revolution and took everyone hostage for 444 days..
Now there are anti-US murals on the outside and I imagine it is were most anti-US rallies are held, such as the one I saw.
Later I went to the Golestan Palace with my Dutch friend, the palace is a shrine to all the excesses of the Shars of yester year.
We then went for a tour on the bike and ended up at the parlimentary libiary and we were recieved by the head of PR amd international affairs for the libiary, it was very nice, but slightly disconcerting that he asked us to write our full names down for him, so he could "learn them"...
Later I bumped into the Kiwi couple, whom I had met in Tabriz, weird! Unfortunately Racheals boyfriend, Tristian had just been hit by a bus and although seemed fine, I am sure was pretty shaken. He had gone to hospital and had all the checks and had the x-ray transparencies to prove it. It was another reminder of why the roads in Iran are the largest cause of death.
Later went back to my bike to go back to the hotel, I had complacently left it on the street till about mid-night, this was not such a good idea. Unfortunately someone had, had the mirrors away, some billy cans for camping and most depressingly my bell from Austria. C'est La Vie...
Day 54,
Esfahan
Arrived late after a long day's riding. From Tehran I had stopped to see the great Imman Khomeini's Shrine a massive complex just south of Tehran. Talk about biggin your self up!
Started to really ride in the desert now and pass by more barren mountians.
Have to be careful with petrol here as the stations are not so close together.
Met a young lad, also riding in Iran, he was harmless but a bit of a plonker.
He like me had just passed his liscence, bought a large 650cc motorbike, had it stolen twice, broke down severly in Germany with a huge 3700 Euro repair bill. Then crashed it and broke his leg for 6 months... actually I have to respect him for keeping going!
Day 55,
Esfahan,
Stunning city! Absolutely beautiful. Imman Sq is incredible and the bridges and river make a beautiful place to stroll in the evening.
Met the a ridicualous Philosophy student called Saman and his friend. He is desperate to marry an English girl and move to London... so if anyone knows anyone... i have a photo and he is willing to pay...
Day 56,
Esfahan,
Went to a couple of beautiful palaces and then hung out with Saman. He like many is really fed up with the lack of freedom under the current goverment. He in fact had trained to be a clergy but had, had a huge U turn in belief and become an athiest. He was very well read and obviously had talent that would be wasted in Iran as idealogically he could never work with or within the current state, hence his desperation to leave.
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
Once out of Tabriz it was relatively pleasent journey upto Ahar the town
before the road climbs more sharply up to Kaleyabar. The landscape thus far
had been barren rock and sand. With greenery mainly confined to the
carefully manicured island strips in towns that prevent traffic from
driving on the opposite side of the road and to the banks of meanding rivers
that occasionally cut through the arid countryside.
Beyond Ahar however as the land rose and the climate became more temperate,
the landscape broke out into fertile pastures and inbetween wooded areas
planted with Walnut trees and orchards.
Rising still further up towards 2000m the route disappeared into a thick
fog, and the air temperature droped quickly, forcing me to stop and tie my
scarf around my face.
I eventually arrived in Kaleybar and the small mountian town was shrouded in
a very low opressive cloud that hid the top of the mountain
and Babak castle. I did what one can only do in this sort of situation and
had a chai!
As with Turkey, Iranian's take sugar with there tea and not milk. Normally
about 3 cubes, but rather than put these in the cup and use a spoon to
dissolve them, they pop the cube into there mouth and drink the tea over it,
thus saving on washing up! Now I tried this but I couldn't get it to work
and alway seemed to end up with a very sugery first mouthful and not much
after. In the tea house come restuarant, there was a group of 6 Iranains at
another table, they were curious to who I was and where I was from as I had
now become accustomed to. They offered me some soup and I ordered a kebab,
there was some discussion over my job and where I was staying. After further
discussion much in Farsi amongst themselves and the restaurant
proprieter, one of the chaps from the table said I must stay with him and
his family that evening as the hotel I wanted to stay in was closed. Ok this
sounded good to me, in the meantime he had also generously paid for my meal
too. We arranged to meet back at 6pm after he finished work.
I filled a few hours knocking about the town, meeting one of the town
photographers and having more chai and a wate pipe. Met some youths who were
fairly pleasent, tried to speak english to me with much difficulty and with
some hysterics from the assembly of friends, always a little disconcerting.
Eventually I returned to the restuarant, which was now shut, but someone
quickly came and opened it. 6pm came and went and after a while the
restaurant propriter and assembled curious colleagues, suggested he wasn't
coming, infact I think they tried to call him. I had been stood up. I wasn't
devastated as he wasn't Claudi Schiffer and I knew something else would
unfold. Eventually after some argument between the gahered locals as to who
would put me up and strangely it seemed I wasn't short of offers, it was
decided I was to stay with the propriter, a young chap called Babak, named
of coarse after the castle. At this stage I didn't really care who I stayed
with provided I had a little warmth and a roof and I gratefully accepted. We
stayed awhile in the restuarant and people came and went and answered the
inevitable rally of questions regarding my name, where I was from etc. At
about 8pm I was taken to his home just behind the restaurant.
It turned out he had three other brothers and one sister. One brother was
married and ran the small shop next door, one helped in the restuarant and
the other was still at school. The sister who seemed to speak Ok english,
but unfotunately stayed fairly hidden away, helped at home and had finished
university.
There home was spacious mainly due to the lack of furniture. I have since
discovered this is fairly typical of traditional homes. The floor was
covered in rugs, that stretch from wall to wall, with some cushions arranged
along the walls near the gas burner, with a TV in one corner on a display
unit. There was a small kitchen and two further spaces curtained off from
the main living room. Some fake flowers and pictures sparsley adourned the
walls, one could almost say it was modernist bungalow, with the odd ethenic
and post modern touch.
I ate with the men and the women ate in the kitchen. This was of coarse done
on the floor using a large sort of picnic sheet. We had already removed our
shoes at the front door, so tucked our socks under the sheet so it became a
sort of table cloth come servette. After dinner using various aids,
including my Point it book, sound effects and some scraps of Farsi in the
lonely planet, i communciated the best i could. We drank much tea, which now
always came with a spoon much to there amusement, nuts, fruit etc. At one
point a small bottle of the infamous home brew appeared but I think that
with the whole family present, I prevented from trying it. It smelt pretty
strong though.
Time went on and I was asked at what time I usually went to sleep. Now this
was tricky because, basically everyone will stay up till you say you would
like to go to sleep. So i said about 11pm, which was overshot by some
protracted discussion. Nearing midnight the bedding came out and the men
headed for one area and the women another. I was directed to a futon style
matress on the floor. I wasn't really sure what the dress code was for bed
so I went with boxers and a T-shirt, everyone else seemed to have some sort
of track suit bottoms, I didn't seem to cause offence though. I think I fell
asleep within minutes of being in bed.
Day 42,
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
I woke hoping to head for the castle, unfortunately the weather was still dismally foggy. So i kicked around in the village and then I went with one of the brothers to there garden. The weather was very wet and it felt like a bit of a ridiculous mission. i say mission because the garden was not a back garden but more of an oversize allotment about 5 mins from the town on a mountian side. When we got there, i could hear frenzied dog barking, great I thought so far wild dogs and I haven't got on too well.
The dog came running like a shot out of a gun towards me teeth blazing, I had been given the backpack to carry which contained some chicken we planned to barbeque, so the dog saw me as a long awaited meal!
Thankfully Babak had some control over the beast and at the last moment steered him away from my vunerable (juicy looking) leg. the dog I found out was wild and had been found on the mountain and recieved food from the family, some what sporadically I guessed and in turn it acted as a guard dog over there garden. It was pretty good at this as it demonstrated noty only to me but to a passing sheperd scaring the living daylight out of the poor man and almost taking his arm off. I have experienced this else where and it seems to be a fairly common method of keeping intruders out. Unfortunately we couldn't got to the main garden as the river one must cross to get there had swelled under the rainfall so we had to do with there other orchard. my host set about lighting a fire to cook the chicken, now everything was pretty wet and at this stage I was getting a little frustrated being sat in a wet muddy ground next to a beast (the dog) that was plainly hungrier than i was. Eventually some petrol appeared from somewhere and my friends fire lighting skills came out. The petrol I didn't mind to much but when also tried to ignite the collected wood with a plastic crate he had found, i did step in and suggest that perhaps if we planned on consuming the cooked goods I would prefer them not to be tinged with plastic fumes. In the end the open fire kebabs we cooked were great and the dog got his share.
When we returned to the house the father of the family had returned from Tabriz along with his brother and through broken english the conversation tunred to politics.
Iranians are intruged to know what the English people think about Iran and why the goverment has a problem with Iran. I gently explained that bar the nuclear issue we do not hear a great deal of Iran in our press. Interestingly the family explained that like the people I had met in Tabriz, they felt more connected to Azerbaijan than Iran. In fact they were rightly upset with the current goverment, who had last year banned an annual festival that took place at Babak castle that many Azari (people of the region) went to. The festival was a celebration of Babak an anciet freeman who resided in the castle when the region had much more power. The festival consisted of people whereing local dress, drinking (alcohol) and general merriment. The local area was rightly very upset about this. The goverments reason, being that they felt it was breeding a desire for autonomy, and they strictly enforced the ban with a massive police presence on the day and time in jail for anyone who wouldn't abide by this. For me this was one of the first indication of how parnoid the Iran state is... perhaps rightly so.
That night we had a huge family meal and later I went hunting with the boys of the family. We didn't see a thing, i was jokingly blamed... I suggested they cam to England as there are plenty of Rabbits...
OK TIME TO BE BRIEF AGAIN
Day 43,
Sara'eyn,
Bit of dump, Iranian tourist resort... hot spring meant to cure anything from baldness to MS. So went for a swim and surprise, surprise still bald! Also saw lots of other people will seriouys aliments, felt a little wierd.
Met some Iranian kids, who were very curious to find out about England, the US etc. They wanted to know about how it is with English girls, I told them they are nightmare... talked about drinking, music, Iranain dating... etc. They were around all around 16 years old, so you can imagine there interests. They really weren't keen on the goverment, and dreamt of leaving Iran. Unfortunately I have found this too often to be the case...
Day 44,
Masuleh,
Beautiful stepped village in the mountains, unfortunately shrouded in fog and drizzle. Met a funny Iranian guy who was the son of a hotelier, Soroosh. Stayed in a hut rather like those of south east asia, but with out the beach and sunshine. Still very peaceful.
Read my book.
Day 45
Masuleh
Went for a walk with my umbrella, still managed to get soaked, and fall over covering myself in mud.
In the afternoon, met some design, beauty and english students. They were very funny and again curious. Not to much English between them, but more reason for me to speak Farsi, which I tried absimally.
Exchanged numbers with them.
Day 46
Zanjan
Headed off for Zanjan, got out of the fog that covers the Caspian coast and travelled up a wide river valley, eventually passing a large dam and a bank of wind turbines on the other side of the resevoir. The landscape was very lunar-esk, created by Volcano's thousands of years ago. Crossed another mountain range, higher this time and much colder, in fact the road passed up into the cloud before dropping down the otherside into sun.
Stayed in a filthy hotel, but met a friendly engineer over tea who I showed we around and we had something to eat. Explained to his friend I didn't believe in god much to his dismay... i have had this reaction a few times now in Iran.
Day 47
Takestan
Before Takestan i went to see a large domed building with much scaffold. It was a Unesco world hertiage site, it was quite empressive, but I think they had quite alot of work still to do on it.
Takestan was a bit of dump and nothing to see but I met up with two friends that I had made in Masuleh. Both called Maryam, both were heading for Tehran so we hung out and in the end I stayed with a family who were there friends.
The family's daughter was a good painter and I expressed an interest and immediatley ever painting she had ever done appeared. She had talent, but unfortunately now where to use it...
One of the son in laws was a hairdresser and was keen to rid me of my now large beard but I was having none of it... they didn't really get the idea behind growing it, mind you I am starting to have doubts too... some said I look like across between Dostyevski and Castro... not sure who would be better..
Day 48
Qazvin
In the morning I went to the internet to show the Maryam's were I was bought up, school, university, designers I liked etc. Unfortunately most music sites, facebook and myspace are blocked here. So the internet show did something that got by it and I showed them the photo's from facebook. I think some of them, from some of our rather heavier nights out were perhaps a little to different from the life they know.
After that it was time to hit the road, they bought me a present before I left of a plastic rose to put on the bike, it was my request, I thought it went well with the bell from Austria.
Qazvin, arrived late, not a bad city, a few interesting things to see.
Met a nice guy who ran a model airplane shop.
Day 49
Qazvin,
Went for a wonder to see the sites... almost got run over by a car (actualy it wasnt that close), then the driver proceeded to beckon me into his car and take me for a tea at his tailor shop. he was very comical and he had a good banter with his staff. None could speak english but I felt very relaxed.
Later I met up with the airplane shop man and he had a friend with him who was a manager at the Unilever factory. He could speak good english. We went for a drive around the city and i saw some of the sites. Conversation turned to politics and I had the first proper discussion about USA and Israel.
I have to say my lack of knowledge on Zionism and the foundation of Israel put me at a disadvantage, but he really wasn't keen on its existence in the middle east. He inferred that perhaps the holocaust didn't happen also, which I found a little surprising. I had read a newspaper earlier that day and been watching Iranian news and I have to say it is absolute drivel! It is so full of propoganda it is not a surprise that you might end up thinking everyone is out to get you.
In fairness both sides of Israel's and Iran's goverment have said very foolish things, my only hope is that it is only retoric.
We discussed Iraq, there is still alot of pain in Iran from the war that we heard little about between Iraq and Iran. 1 million people lost there lives in virtual trench warfare till 1990. Everywhere you go here you see dedications to the Martyrs of the war.
Day 50
Tehran
Came to Tehran and surprisingly found a Hotel and parked the bike all relatively easily.
Tehran traffic is absurd, I have already discussed this though so I will not dwell, except to say "What is wrong with these people!"
Met up with the brother of a friend of my sisters, who I will call Farzad. Very interesting discussing with him the politics of the middle east and the history of the revolution.
There were a couple of things in particular that I want to share, there is a opinion that Iran is trying to negotiate itself as the voice of the Islamic world and essentially the middle east. The goverment does seem obessed with foriegn policy and demonising the US. Everywhere I go people ask me what people in the US and England think of Iran, expecting me to say everyone thinks it is dangerous and a scary country. I tell them honestly that we don't hear much about Iran and what we do usually involves the Nuclear facilities. People who think of it as scary are usually ignorant of the reality.
Unfortunately I have seen many down with Israel and US posters since I have been here and seen a large rally, attended by what looked like bussed in school children, all of whom were girls, who I doubt had any real knowledge of the US or its foriegn policy. This by and large does not mirror the general publics opinion, which is dominated by curiosity rather than any sort of hatred. In fact I met two Americains today, who have only been welcomed since they have been in Iran.
Back to the conversation with Farzad, we also talked about the revolution, he told me that obiviously many people lost there business after the fall of the Shar, and many of the Communists who helped establish it were later, tried and put to death. There are theories that perhaps, our old friend the US actually supported and sponsored the Islamic groups after the revelution as they were scared the Communists might get control of the country.
We also talked about Tehran and really if you have the money it is like any other city. You can drink, you can party, you can have a girlfriend, you get into fights, it seems more often with the police than anyone else. You can walk around with girls your are not related to or married to with out being stopped by the police, unlike the rest of Iran.
Day 51
Tehran.
The next day I put this into practise meeting up with one of the Maryams. We went to the Contemporary Art Museum which was really quite good. Then the photographers gallery, which had a celebration of the Hajib, much to Marayam's disgust (she wasn't a fan of this item of clothing), then the National Jewel Museum. My god Iran has alot of jewels and jewellery. Really the most incrediable peieces, I think I have ever seen, not that I am an expert, but I did do a show for a Prince once, don't you know.
Later I met up with a Dutch journalist I had met. He was in Tehran, undercover to write about the US election. To be honest I didn't think there was much of a story here as people didn't really seem to care... perhaps slightly in favour of Barrack, but to them it was all the same.
Then we bumped into a another Dutch journalist however she wasn't writing a story. We went to the Armenian Club, which I think is one of the only restauarants in Tehran where you don't have to wear a Hijab. Armenians are generally Christians and tend to be more openly drinkers and non hijab wearers. I think about 5% of the Iranian population are Armenians.
Day 52,
Tehran,
Hung out with Maryam again, we went to the Bazaar, which has a huge economic influence on the country, it is where alot of the big deals are done. Then we went to the Iran National Museum, which had some great pieces from Persopolis.
Later met Farzad and his girlfriend for dinner. Had very tasty kebabs... I have had alot of kebabs since I have been in Iran, however these were definitely worth a mention.
Day 53,
Tehran,
Saw a demonstration outside the US Den of Espionage (Formally the US Embassy), this is where the CIA, with Britains backing, plotted to over throw the Iranian goverment with a Coup that took place in 1953 as it had nationalised Anglo-Iranian Oil and we weren't happy about the loss of revenue.In 1979 this where the revolutionary guard stormed the building at the begining of the revolution and took everyone hostage for 444 days..
Now there are anti-US murals on the outside and I imagine it is were most anti-US rallies are held, such as the one I saw.
Later I went to the Golestan Palace with my Dutch friend, the palace is a shrine to all the excesses of the Shars of yester year.
We then went for a tour on the bike and ended up at the parlimentary libiary and we were recieved by the head of PR amd international affairs for the libiary, it was very nice, but slightly disconcerting that he asked us to write our full names down for him, so he could "learn them"...
Later I bumped into the Kiwi couple, whom I had met in Tabriz, weird! Unfortunately Racheals boyfriend, Tristian had just been hit by a bus and although seemed fine, I am sure was pretty shaken. He had gone to hospital and had all the checks and had the x-ray transparencies to prove it. It was another reminder of why the roads in Iran are the largest cause of death.
Later went back to my bike to go back to the hotel, I had complacently left it on the street till about mid-night, this was not such a good idea. Unfortunately someone had, had the mirrors away, some billy cans for camping and most depressingly my bell from Austria. C'est La Vie...
Day 54,
Esfahan
Arrived late after a long day's riding. From Tehran I had stopped to see the great Imman Khomeini's Shrine a massive complex just south of Tehran. Talk about biggin your self up!
Started to really ride in the desert now and pass by more barren mountians.
Have to be careful with petrol here as the stations are not so close together.
Met a young lad, also riding in Iran, he was harmless but a bit of a plonker.
He like me had just passed his liscence, bought a large 650cc motorbike, had it stolen twice, broke down severly in Germany with a huge 3700 Euro repair bill. Then crashed it and broke his leg for 6 months... actually I have to respect him for keeping going!
Day 55,
Esfahan,
Stunning city! Absolutely beautiful. Imman Sq is incredible and the bridges and river make a beautiful place to stroll in the evening.
Met the a ridicualous Philosophy student called Saman and his friend. He is desperate to marry an English girl and move to London... so if anyone knows anyone... i have a photo and he is willing to pay...
Day 56,
Esfahan,
Went to a couple of beautiful palaces and then hung out with Saman. He like many is really fed up with the lack of freedom under the current goverment. He in fact had trained to be a clergy but had, had a huge U turn in belief and become an athiest. He was very well read and obviously had talent that would be wasted in Iran as idealogically he could never work with or within the current state, hence his desperation to leave.
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