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| 27 June | Shiraz |  |
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We arrived at Shiraz sometime about 8:30. As I groggily collected my stuff, I saw the man who had remained on the bus all night get off and move away. On his hands. After an entire night sitting across the aisle from him, I had failed to notice he didn't have legs...
Taxi drivers are the same all over the world. Here, even though another passenger on the bus had told me I shouldn't pay more than 1000 for a share taxi, the drivers demanded 5000 and wouldn't go any lower. Not a chance. I walked into town. It was a nice cool morning. The sun was shining, a pleasant breeze whipped into town. What a way to enter a new country. I quickly thumbed through my book to pick out a few phrases. "Sobh bekheir!" (Good morning) Where is the centre? Prices have gone up a lot since Matti had been here at Ramadhan. The Hotel Toos was 800 for a single room, now it costs 1000. The Hotel Arvari was 900, now it's 1200. The black market rate had gotten as high as 700 before the government stamped on it. Unfortunately, I'm here just a few months too late. I'd better find the black market next time I need to change money, or my time here will be bit more expensive than I hoped for. I was too tired to look around much. I settled in the Arvari. I found a nice big, clean room with private shower. And that shower felt so good. It took me long, luxurious minutes under the scalding, high-pressure flow of water before the water ran clear down the drain and I was willing to leave. After I got out, I bounced around on the big, clean, comfy bed before taking a well-deserved nap.
I'm afraid the black trousers I bought in Delhi didn't last very well. Between the train, the desert, the knife and the bus, they were torn and bloodied all over. Now I need to see if I can manage with my heavier ones or find some new ones to buy. Sigh, more shopping. Once again, I decided to risk the water here. It is supposed to be safe, and after 6 months in Asia, I think my system's strong enough to deal with any minor problems that arise. I drank the water they passed around on the bus last night, and again at my hotel in Quetta. I could filter it, but I couldn't be bothered. I just hope I don't regret it. Now, for some food! My body is still not adapted to the idea I can eat again. I walked about, but found nothing promising. There was nothing that looked like a restaurant to me. I was just about to give up and return to a stand up place across the street from my hotel when a kid snatched my hat and took off with it. Not a good idea. I was still not recovered from my travels. I caught him after a short chase, lost my temper, and slammed him to the ground with a kick to the back of his head in front of his friends. Unfortunately, in my tired grouchiness, I forgot an old rule of my old karate instructor. Seconds after he hit the ground, I joined him due to the slippery, sandy footing. It turned what should have been fatal to his image - what this was all about - into a farce. His friends were laughing at both of us, but made no move, so I walked away. After that mess, I was fed up with being hungry and found a restaurant in an expensive hotel. The food was mediocre, but the experience of dining in grand solitude was worth it. No one staring, no one trying to talk to me, no one bothering me at all. The trip is in serious danger now. I am no longer thinking of another year or two on the road. No more overland through Africa. I am really considering ditching everything except for Turkey and Kenya (for Mom and Dad's sake), and Ireland for me. Thinking and reading back, it's been over a month now since I have really enjoyed myself. Little spots here and there, but mostly, I've just been in a bad mood. Little things, like today, set me off when 3 months ago, I'd have gone no big deal. It could be that I've reached my limit. Part of it is also the time pressure, knowing I can't just drift anymore. If I ditched it, it would go Iran 26/6 - 16/7, Turkey 17/7 - 20/8, Kenya 21/8 - 3/9, Ireland 4/9 - 8/10. It sounds so tempting, I ask myself why I'm forcing myself to continue. I think, personally, I just don't want to give up. But autumn in Ireland would be so nice... I took another short nap this afternoon. When I woke up at 16:45, I was completely disoriented. I thought it was 4:45, and I was thinking I had slept through the night. I started wondering where I'd find breakfast. That passed, but it was still hours before dinner time, so I passed the time learning more Persian. I forgot to write before, I'm totally confused around this country. They drive on the right hand side! I was in a state of constant panic on the bus, we're on the wrong side! Very strange. I keep looking the wrong way when crossing the street. I'm sure that I'm going to get flattened before long... [Arabic characters](Seán Connolly) It's amazing how much a good meal can improve your outlook. I wandered an hour before I found a promising place for dinner. It had a good size attendance, you could sit down (rare around here) and it was on a side road, so I wouldn't get the crowd standing in the doorway. I sat down and an apprehensive waiter approached me. He looked relieved as I ordered "yek chelo kebab, naan, salad, mast, cola." (Kebab, bread, salad, yogurt, cola) He knows these words! It was a good, very filling meal. Yum. After I had mellowed from the good food, I sat and "talked" with the waiters. They laughed at my Farsi penmanship. I can't help a giggle watching them write their English. When it was finally time to go, the waiter gave me the bill. [Arabic numbers](4000), I can read that! Walking home afterwards in a good mood, I found myself chatting with another guy in Farsi, kind of. He didn't know where Irlandia is, so we went through the continents in Farsi. Europaea, that sounds right... I bought some bananas at a fruit shop, shared one, and just spent a pleasant evening. Finally. So, let's see, today cost me 28700R in all, about US$8-10 depending on the exchange rate... I think I should be OK. I've already found many people around who want to change money, so I'll just find a shop and do it there when it comes time. I just don't want to risk trouble here. It is not worth the thirty or forty dollars I might save... It feels so good knowing that tomorrow, I'm staying right here in town. No buses, no trains, no rickshaws. Also, what a relief to be in a modern country again. I drink the water, eat fresh salads, have ice in my soft drink... I like travelling, but sometimes, it can just be so nice to have comfort as well. |
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| 28 June | Shiraz | |
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The visa I received in Delhi is only good for one week. So if I want to stay here for any length of time, I need to extend it. Matti said that the visa office was no longer where it was listed in the book, so I went to the police station nearby to get directions. The office is now all the way out on Chamran St, a long walk away. I got lost a few times along the way, but I found the people very nice and helpful. "Um, shoma inglizi baladid?" (Excuse me, fine sir, but could you do me the great honor of speaking English to this ignorant infidel?) The men would take my hand, put an arm around my shoulders, and walk me down the street to where I needed to go, chatting with me the entire time. I sometimes wonder what exactly it is they were saying, but I appreciated their help nonetheless.
When I finally found the place, it was not at all what I expected. A guard showed me the way through the small complex to the office. Once there, they asked me to wait, then an officer walked in who spoke English. Two forms, 1000R, 2 photos and that's it, come back tomorrow at 10:00. That was easy! This country continues to surprise me. Despite the relatively cool day, I was sweating on my way back, so I stopped at a store to buy a drink. The shopkeeper took my money for the drink, then put some biscuits in my pack for free. I like this country I think. It is modern, but retains its culture. Clean, but not repressive like Singapore. I also like how so few people speak English well, how signs are all only in Farsi. It forces me to make a real effort to learn how to speak and read Persian. Unlike Nepal, India, Thailand, where most things are written in both, here I either learn or have a rougher time. Now that I have taken care of business, sigh, I guess it's time to do my tourist duties and see some sights. o o o Well, I did it. I became a true tourist for a complete two hours! I visited Baghe-ye Shah-é Cheragh, the tomb of the "King of the Lamp". Beautiful. It was like Versaille's Hall of Mirrors, multiplied a million times. All surfaces were covered with beautifully patterned mirrors, colored glass windows, and Arabic calligraphy layered over everything. This is an important Shiite pilgrimage site. The people were praying and kissing the structure containing the coffin. It was all very impressive. I was properly dressed for the place, but I could tell some people were not happy I was there, so I only stayed long enough to take a look, then went outside to the cool courtyard. I wish I could have taken a picture, but I didn't dare.
I went to check out the bazaars next. I had a rough time finding the entrance, but when I stumbled across the doorway, what I found was very interesting. Long arched corridors, mazes of shops selling everything from cloth to spices, metal work to electronics. Every now and then, a courtyard would open up on one side or the other, revealing a fountain, or sometimes a mosque. The air was fragrent with saffron and other spices. There was not one souvenir shop in the entire place, though a few of the carpet shopkeeps spoke rather fluent English trying to get me to come in... I'll wait until Tabriz or Rasht to buy anything on that order. Today's total was 28600R, again under US$10. I think I'll be just fine... |
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| 29 June | Shiraz | |
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I was a little nervous walking to the visa office today, but I collected my passport and got the extension just as I requested with no problem. Good.
Going over my plans, I finally made my decision. Turkey is the end. From there, I'll either fly to Kenya, then Ireland, or overland to Ireland, stopping to see Francesca and Sabine, then fly to Kenya. It depends on Dad. Either way, I'll spend over 2 months in Ireland, a prospect that does excite me. And I'll make it home for Xmas, which actually is no big deal for me, but very big for Mom. I no longer have any interest in the tourist sites, and I seem too burned out to truly appreciate the people and places I visit, so I should just stop and leave the rest for another time. At dinner, I was playing with an Oz 20 cent piece, doing my usual magic tricks. One of the waiters asked to see it. He took the coin, then shook his head, tsk, tsk. He looked at me and slid his hand over his head with a disapproving expression. Oh yeah, the Queen's head isn't covered! Trust a Muslim to point that out! My impression of Iran so far? One big convent permanently set in early spring. All the women with their big black chadors look like nuns. All the men are wearing trousers and long sleeve shirts. Even on a hot summer day, the feeling is cool spring, maybe late winter, the women are so bundled up... The mainly dark, black colors add to the effect. |
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| 30 June | Esfahan | |
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I overslept this morning and almost didn't catch my bus. On the street, public transport continued to elude me. Whenever I stood and waited for a taxi, the road would be absolutely empty. Five minutes later, running out of time, I'd start to walk and suddenly there were taxis all over the place. But they were all moving too fast for me to turn and wave one down. So I'd stop walking and look for one, and the road would be empty again! Argh. I gave up and just walked the entire way.
After a short, hot ride, the bus pulled into Esfahan... and passed Esfahan. Um. Wasn't that the bus terminal back there? The bus stopped at a street corner in the middle of town, a couple people got off, but most of the rest stayed on. I figured it was going to another station. The bus kept going through town, but then got onto the highway. Um. Maybe that wasn't Esfahan? Maybe I read the sign wrong? 10 minutes later, I was worried so I asked the man behind me. Nope, that was it. Damn. I got off at the next town with a couple of Iranians. The man asked me, "You want Esfahan?" Yes... It turned out, I was luckier than I deserved. There was a minibus right across the street for only 200R back to Esfahan. Once back in town, a taxi took me right to my hotel for 2000R. Then the day really got expensive. They wanted US$20 for a room! Rials! "No rial, $20." He lowered his price down to US$18 after some haggling, but that was it. No fucking way. I met a German guy outside the hotel who told me that all the hotels in town were the same, no one will take rial. He was paying US$10 at the same place, so I could get that, but I refuse to pay in US$. I tried next at the Hotel Iran. The guy typed into his calculator, 14, "dollars!". Uh uh. Rial. Shrugs, types 15 x 3000 = 45000R. I don't think so. I walked out, but I was tired and didn't feel like fighting it, so I went in, typed 30000, 4 nights! He finally settled for 35000R. Highway robbery. The room was not even as good as the one in Shiraz I paid 12000 for! The German traveller said that it was the same in Tabriz, so it looks like costs just doubled. It's supposedly illegal to charge in US$, not that anyone really cares, I'm sure. It's just infuriating that they charge foreigners prices many times that of locals, though it happens in many other places as well. Places I won't go. Maybe off the traveler route, I'll have better luck. I hope... |
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| 1 July | Esfahan | |
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Well, I managed to eat two entire meals today, but contrary to being full of energy as a result, quite the opposite occurred. My body is still not used to food and especially not meat, so all systems shut down to process the unexpected nutrition. I basically slept through the afternoon, waking for dinner, then after taking a long walk, back to bed. I had a nervous afternoon today. I was almost out of toilet paper and needed to buy some. But none of the stores I found stocked any. It was looking grim indeed until I stumbled across a dusty package at the back of a shelf in one dim store. Long bus rides I can handle. Different foods add excitement. But let me run out of toilet paper, and I think it's time to get home fast! :-) I never did finish my sightseeing... But I did go back to the square at night. It was very nice. The mosques were all lit up, glowing cool blue. People were strolling, kids are playing with balloons in the park in the middle. It was a very good scene. The moon is new, the air is cool, it's time for Arabian Nights! |
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| 2 July | Esfahan | |
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Out to get my train ticket. I decided to skip Ghazvin and instead go straight to Sari. My tourist energy is low, but I really feel I should see more of Iran while I'm here. So I don't want to just leave. I think I'll chill on the Caspian coast for a week or so. I couldn't find the train booking office until I asked for help. There was nothing to indicate what it was, just a glassed in office with a little window in the door. The signs inside I guess were schedules, but I just couldn't find Sari, although I did see Tehran. The guy at the window didn't speak English, but I understood I could only get a ticket as far as Tehran from here, then I would have to buy the next ticket to Sari in Tehran. The train leaves Tuesday, at 1900. I think... When I decided to take my chances, I had to hand over my passport for him to record my travels. I had forgotten to retrieve my Irish passport from the hotel before leaving, so I only had my American passport (without visa stamps) to offer. This caused quite a commotion on the other side, with the man laughing at the top of his lungs and shouting to his mates. At first I was afraid I was in trouble, but then the man, who up until then had been rather surly, came back to the window full of smiles and said "Welcome!". [Despite what the media seems to want everyone to believe, I found the average Iranian very friendly to Americans. Posters and murals of Khomeini covered the side of most buildings, but posters of Michael Jordan were almost as popular. Any time I told people I lived in the US, I received nothing but curiosity and increased hospitality.] There was a very nice park along the other side of the river. I found myself wishing I had brought a book, and I would have stayed all day. The tea shop was under the Si o So Pol bridge, not the other one as the book said. The atmosphere couldn't be beat. It was cool, damp and quiet, with men in robes smoking water pipes and boys jumping the channels of water to serve tea in fine silver services. There was nothing to jar the mood, nothing to remind you that this wasn't sometime a hundred or a thousand years ago. Back to the square, to start my damn souvenir shopping. There was plenty to choose from, all hand made, but it was still tourist junk. I saw a framed beaten silver bird for Mom, a beaten copper platter for Angela (and maybe me), and maybe a wall hanging and some jewelry for Jeni. One place actually had prices on their stuff, 20k for the platter, 10k for cloth, I hope they're talking Rials. If so, this could be cheaper than I thought, because that's just the starting price for haggling. Perhaps I'll buy tomorrow as long as I can find someone to change money first. I walked all around the bazaar. Other than the amazing fact it was all indoors and the many mosques and gardens I kept stumbling across, not much of what was on sale was of interest to myself. Unless you wanted to buy shoes, cloth, etc. I became totally and completely lost in my wanderings, eventually coming out on a main street. I found my way back after 2 or 3 hours of walking around town, visiting many mosques, and parks. I asked back at the hotel where I could change some money, giving them the opportunity to volunteer, but they just directed me to the Central Bank. Hm. |
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| 3 July | Esfahan | |
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I did nothing but write letters all morning, seeing if Francesca can meet me, if Sabine will be around, etc. After lunch, I wandered the shops. There I met Masoud, a very talented miniature painter. One thing I really like in this country is that people don't push you to buy. They make sure you see everything, but then if you want to go, that's fine. We started talking, his English was remarkably clear. He's considering moving to New Zealand where he can get a visa because of a friend. He asked me about prices, could he find a wife there, how much would it cost to fly there, etc.
Interesting fact. He mentioned in our conversation that he's been to Singapore. It seems that many Iranian men go there like the Japanese go to Bangkok, for sex. I can't see it myself, but he said that until very recently, the government didn't allow Iranians to go to Thailand because of its image. Very interesting. I found it just as interesting to once again see that Muslims, just like Jews, Christians, Buddhists, also differ in their faith. Some are just less strict in their conduct. Even in Iran. The conversation turned to money. He said his friend could perhaps get me 400 if I came back later. Hm, good enough. The bank indeed only gives 300 (I checked) so this would be much better. I think I'll give it a try... And so the day went. I sat with Masoud much of the day, discussing the decline in tourists after the revolution, how his father went practically bankrupt because of it. But now, tourists are again starting to come to his city. Later, before dinner, I wandered back to the square. Once again, I had a shock. A group of 3 Iranian girls walked up next to me when I was alone on the street. This alone caught my interest, because up until then, I have had no contact with women in Iran. But what happened next completely blew my remaining image of a devout Islam nation out the window. They were giggling and covering their faces with their hands and pushing each other forward. But then one managed to speak to me in English and actually offered to sleep with me for hard US dollars! I must say, I didn't expect prostitutes in Iran, but they didn't seem professionals. They just looked like teenage girls looking for some hard currency and perhaps some fun. I can't say I wasn't tempted. The faces of all three were exquisite, and what was hinted at by their cloak of Islam... While I was walking around the square, an Iranian student about my age approached me, and even though I was a bit gruff, he sat and talked for a while. He was intensely curious about what America is really like. It might have been dangerous for him, but he kept asking, so I told him what I thought. I probably shattered a few of his illusions in doing so. The idea that I was trying to leave the place he dreamed of living was utterly incomprehensible. Before he left, Ali invited me to a party with some friends of his later that night. I grabbed dinner at a place called "Only Kebabs". I wanted to try some place different from the other. It was a strange place. I asked for kebab, mast, cola. "Na mast, only kebab!" the guy responded. Oh, that explains the sign I guess. OK. My food came just as a large family sat around me. Um, what do I do with this? I had grown used to something else. This meal came on two plates, one with bbqed tomatoes, the other holding two big pieces of flat bread with meat inside. The family watched me, laughing as I poked at my food. But it wasn't mean laughter, they kept joking with me in limited English. I tried to make a sandwich out of it. They roared. Their food finally comes, oh that's how you do it! Make small sandwiches. A small piece of bread, fold it, put the meat and tomato inside, two bites, and repeat. They ate quickly, but sat and talked some more. As I rose to pay, one guy said, "No money! I pay you." Wow. Very nice. We shook hands all around, and I was off to haggle. It was what sustained me through the onerous task of shopping ahead, giving me just the buzz I needed. Back at Masoud's shop, I found disappointment. His friend would only give me 350. Damn. It was still better than the bank, but I think I'll check around first. I went into a rug dealers shop. He was the exception, a very pushy, persistent individual. But as soon as I mentioned "change money", he changed his tune. Right off, he offered 320. Nope. "Better than bank. " I know, but I can get 370 in the shop right across the square. I want 400. We haggled for over an half hour, and he eventually went up to 390, but I must agree to buy an absolutely beautiful hand printed cloth he wanted to sell me. He wanted US$40 for it. It was very nice, and I would take it for US$30, except that it was huge, 3m x 3m. I had nowhere to put it, the folks don't either. That was the only stopper. If he'd have let me buy something else, we could have worked it out, but he insisted only that, so no go. It looked like he might give in, but I had a feeling I won't find better than 350 here, so I'd better take it tomorrow. No other shop showed any interest when I mentioned money, so that's it. Tomorrow. Maybe his friend (if such a person even exists) will reconsider and offer more. It's doubtful, but maybe. I was resigned that once again I won't be buying anything here. But just as I thought that, I spotted a wonderful copper and silver beating. I really liked it, but I was sure it would cost too much. It was well done, with calligraphy, etc. Another shop that spoke English and had Visa signs, etc. wanted US$100 for a similar piece. This place wrote down 120,000R (in Farsi). Wow, and that's starting. Tomorrow. I had a party to go to, so I couldn't stay and haggle. I met Ali back at the same place in the square we talked earlier, and he led the way. It was probably the strangest party I've ever been to. I was the star attraction (of course), but it seemed like something out of the Prohibition days of America. The music was played almost too quietly to hear, there was (horrible) home-made distilled drinks, and strangest of all, the women were all in normal clothes! Not a chador to be seen once they came into the apartment. I even spent some time with one girl who spoke excellent English. She had the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. Be still my heart... The common attitude there was that Iran used to be great fun before the Ayatolluh. "But we used up all our fun..." |
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| 4 July | Train to Tehran | |
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Somehow, I don't think the 4th of July is celebrated around here. After I packed, I took a walk out to the square. Everything was closed, so I just sat, relaxed, and enjoyed the view. I bought a stack of not very impressive postcards, mailed a few letters, and waited for Masoud to show up. Eventually he arrived, and we sat and talked, drinking tea. He had my money for me. Oh well, better than the bank.
Next, to haggle for the plate. Unexpectedly, the guy stood absolutely firm on the price. He wouldn't budge one Rial, not even if I paid in dollars. I said fine, walked away, and he just put it back and went back to work on another piece. But after thinking about it, I knew Mom would love it. I shouldn't be cheap now. It was very nice. So I gave in. The artist didn't react much, so I really don't think I overpaid much. But after counting out my 120000R. Ouch! he goes "doh! doh!" He's now saying 140000! Nuh uh. He had used the piece of paper we haggled on as an oil rag on his work, but you could still make out his writing 12000. I had tried to haggle in Farsi, but he kept using English and it turned out that he made a mistake. The price he wanted was 140, but he mixed his English numbers up! So I did get a better deal, just through no haggling of my own. It was too big to put in my pack, so I decided I'd better mail it before it's damaged. Out to GPO. 35,000R Ouch Ouch. This is an expensive gift. They wrapped it, stamped it, and I wrote the address on the package. They got a kick out of the USA address, but I think it'll get there. But now, I'm poor again. I don't have enough cash to last until Rasht, the next bank, and I don't want to risk not finding someone willing to deal. So back to Masoud. He said maybe, come back later and he will find out. If not, I can change in Sari, it just means I must stay a day. Lunch, then out of my room at 2:00. I sat in the lobby for the next 3 hours and wrote postcards. Now to visit Masoud and see what's the verdict... Good news, he could make the change. No more worries. Before I left, I ask him directions to the train station. He was surprised I wasn't taking the bus. "No one takes the train..." It turned out, the station was far outside town. I decided to be adventurous and take the bus. I bought my ticket without incident, but then got on the wrong bus. Jo'ha han? Istgah? "Na, na." The next bus I tried, I got lucky. I sat with a couple kids. They were babbling at me in Farsi, of course I couldn't understand, but they decided they like me anyway. They were also going to the station. As we were getting off, one of them even paid my way! I know, I already had a ticket, but wow, even the kids! The station was quiet, sane, and except for the cursory bag inspection at the front gate, nice and easy. I found my train with the kids help and collapsed in my seat. Hm. The train was about the equivalent of an Italian train maybe. It had six person compartments, it was much cleaner than Pakistani trains, but worn around the edges. And hot! Another difference is that the windows didn't open! Only tiny little vents that didn't help at all. When the train left the station, there were five of us in the compartment, and I thought it was going to be a long night, but two of them were women, and the conductor quickly found them a seat elsewhere. Now that there only three of us, we pulled the seats down to form beds and got some sleep. A hot, sweaty night. |
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| 5 July | Ramsar | |
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The train stopped for morning prayer about 5:00, just like it stopped last night at about 9:00. Muslims. I couldn't get anyone to answer about when we'd arrive in Tehran. I just received the frustrating "Inshallah!" So I didn't know if it would be 7:00 or 12:00. Very annoying. At 7:30, we stopped, a lot of people were getting off, but I didn't see any signs to indicate where we are, Farsi or otherwise. I finally decided it must be Tehran. I woke the others, and yes it is.
Again, it was very easy to get around. I decided I'd had enough trains for now, I would get a bus right to Ramsar. There was a train taxi ticket office outside, 1500 for a shared taxi, good enough. Terminal-é Gharb, pure chaos. I managed to find the bus offices, and Company 1 was going my way, but I would have to get a taxi at the other end for the last stretch. 3700R. Nice bus, good window vents finally, so it was a cooler ride. A friendly Iranian (what's new?) sitting next to me gave some interesting commentary on the passing scenery. As we passed a dam, "good fishing!" As we went through a village, "bad people!" He gave me another shock. He's a microbiology professor at University. OK, nothing unusual there. But he teaches his subject as proof of Allah's power. His plan in plain site. The man really believes in it, and spends time trying to convince me. Hm. He told me my name, Seán, which means "gift from God" translated as Khodadad (Allah giving). So I've now acquired another name. It's finally happening. We all have different names as we go through life, I'm finally gaining mine. Running Bear, Lathi, now Khodadad. Hm. When the bus went as far in my direction as it was going, I got off and caught a taxi the remaining 30km on to Ramsar. The town was not what I expected at all. The beach is 2km from "town". I had met a couple Czechs on the bus previously, and the three of us found a cheap hotel room. After dumping our gear, we walked out to the beach for a swim. It was also not at all what I expected, but I should have. The beach was segregated. The women were on one side, the men on the other, and an amusement park was in the center, all separated by large cloth barriers going out into the water. The water was murky as well, but hey, I'm swimming in the Caspian Sea, largest lake in the world! Back for a cheap 1800 kebab, early to bed. |
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| 6 July | Ramsar | |
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Yesterday was a very cheap day. I spent only 13000R, about US$4. Maybe I didn't need to change more money in Esfahan after all... Out to buy some breakfast. 8 apples, a peach, a baguette, a small slab of butter, and a huge tub of yogurt. All together cost a back breaking 4000R. I went back to sit in an upstairs bay window and gorge. I think I may even be getting my energy back. I planned to take a walk today, except, get this, I couldn't because it was pouring down rain! 2nd day of rain in a long time. It sounded so nice when the street noise quieted. But Ramsar's not as nice as I expected. I think I'll leave tomorrow. Maybe go to Rasht, or possibly Bandazar... whatever. The guy on the bus was telling me that there is a beautiful little island off there that's worth a couple days. Maybe. Or maybe just keep moving, and leave Iran a couple days before my visa expires. It seems a shame, seeing as I've encountered so little of Iran this time, but there's not much else for the tourist around here unless I go all the way up to Mashad, and it's pilgrimage season now, or down to the Gulf, which is just too far to backtrack. I'll decide tomorrow. For now, sit and wait for the sun, ironically enough.
The sun never emerged, so I went down to the beach for a walk. It was windy, the skies were dark, it looked like a storm was coming. The barriers have been taken (blown?) down. I walked along the shore until I left civilization behind. Soon after leaving the beach, there were no more people! For the first time in months, I'm alone without hiding in my room. It felt so nice. I sat and listened to the wind, the surf (rattle, rattle, rattle), there were no people sounds. I spent a few hours there, watching the storm roll in, then strolled slowly back to the hotel. The others haven't been seen all afternoon, but they were smoking hash when I left, so they're probably staring into space somewhere on the shore... I decided that I changed far too much money, unless I run into some unexpected expenses. I can afford to live it way up. I'm sure I'd lose the difference anyway changing it all back. I ran into Hynek while walking down to the corner store. I was only going to get some bread, but the storekeep called the two of us aside in a whisper and invited us into the back room. At first, I thought he was going to try to sell us something, but it turned out, he was just being hospitable and showing off to us a little. He offered us a cup each of what appeared to be water. I took a sip, and almost spit it back into his face. Homemade brandy! Hynek also had a distillery back home, so they compared designs while we proceeded to get plastered in the Islamic Republic of Iran. This country keeps surprising me... |
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| 7 July | Bus to Tabriz | |
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Up early again after a good nights sleep. Another baguette and fruit for brekkie, then a minibus to Rasht. Once there, the others decided that they were going to Tabriz tonight. I looked at the weather (shitty) and the scenery (beautiful) and made the split second decision to just ditch it and go to Tabriz myself. I have far too many Rials left, but I'm just not in the mood to exert myself. I'll get to Tabriz, find a nice hotel, stay a couple days, see if I can find anything to buy in the market, then go on to Maku and Turkey. We took a taxi to the terminal and bought tickets to Tabriz. I bought two (4800 each) so I could have the whole seat to myself. I felt really decadent doing so, but it is time to really stop skimping and just do everything I can to be comfortable and enjoy myself. The others were almost out of money, so I changed US$10 for them (back at 350). Then, we sat and waited in a field of grass...
The bus left at about 3:30. It was the poorest bus I've seen yet in Iran, very worn and old. At first, it looked like I had wasted my money, as the bus was only half full as we left the terminal. But the driver kept stopping every 5 minutes, and eventually the bus filled up. But no one contested me my two seats, so I spent the night in comfort. |
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| 8 July | Tabriz | |
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I actually slept on the bus last night, almost 7 hours! But at 4:00, we stopped again. I figured another rest stop, as others were getting off. But then I hear Ondray ask, "This is Tabriz?" Yes. Groan. I stumbled off the bus out into a bitterly cold morning. My long sleeve shirt was not enough, out comes the fleece... The other two were still moving on, now they want to take a bus today all the way to Istanbul. Whew, enough for me, I'm staying put. Wait for the sunrise. After the bus today I really needed my lathi, my knee was crippled this morning...
We had breakfast at the first place we found open. Tea, honey, butter, and bread that was so fresh out of the oven, it was too hot to hold. Yum. At the terminal, the others were told that there was no bus direct to Istanbul until Monday, so they bought tickets to Maku, to do it by parts instead. Next, I got a hotel room. Matti recommended the Hotel-é Marvarid, so I checked it out. Only 9,500R for single with bath, TV, and a refrigerator. I was expecting to have to fight about dollars, then pay far too much rials, so I was pleasantly surprised. I'll take it! The others dumped their bags in my room and we went to explore the bazaar. The market was in a nice building, but there was nothing touristy/"cultural" for sale, just shoes, cloth, and household goods. Hynek saw a banner he really liked, so he tried to buy it from the shopowner. It was a political rally banner for Khomeini's son, written in Arabic, but he just liked the look of it. The shopkeeper spoke no English, and so after trying a good long time, Hynek gave up and tried at another shop that had the same banner. No one could understand what he wanted, but he kept trying until he found one man who understood. The man took a ladder out of his shop, climbed up, took it down, and gave it to him as a gift. Nice. Their bus left at 1:00, off to Turkey, first stop Maku... I was hungry, so I went to find food, and of course didn't find any. The place where we ate breakfast had a big sign outside saying it was a kebabari, so I thought that was a good place to start. But when I walked inside, it was full of old white bearded men smoking their waterpipes, and no food to be seen. I timidly asked for chelo kebab, and got a barrage of responses from all around, none of which I understood, but the message was clear, no food. Strange. They saw my disappointed expression, though, and a boy was dispatched who came back with some bread for me as I was motioned towards a seat. I felt like a child in the midst of all these longbeards, with every eye in the room on me as I ate my bread and answered their questions. Eerland, John, 1 o'clock, Turkey, Iran's great... I was in a good mood afterwards, and chatted with a couple Iranian English students as I walked back to my hotel. |
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| 9 July | Tabriz | |
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I woke up early this morning to buy a bus ticket to Maku. There was no 1:00 bus today, only 7:30 and 20:00. Hm. (It was 7:05.) OK, give me 7:30. "All full, autostop." Meaning go stand outside and wait for the bus in case someone doesn't show. Nah, I still need to pack. I'll wait until tomorrow.
Walking back to my hotel, I passed a delicious smelling doorway. I poked my head inside and found it was a bread bakery. I joined the queue, and waited in a nice warm tiny room filled with the smell of baking bread. Yum. The bread came out of the oven, and they placed it right into my hands. Ouch! It only cost 70R for two loaves! Nice. I thought they meant Tomar and tried to give them a 2000 bill, but honest people, they took a 100R coin out of my hand instead and gave me change. Mm, very good bread. So I'm stuck here until tomorrow, but I've found a good place to eat, a good bakery, a good shop, and a good room. What else could a traveller wish for? Breakfast of bananas and hot fresh bread. I relaxed and read until about noon, when a knock on the door requested my presence downstairs. I thought they were expecting me to leave today, and I was mustering my minimal Farsi to explain that no, I am leaving farda, tomorrow. But instead, I met Adam, from Belfast. He just arrived this morning and was short of funds. He wanted to know if I'd share a room with him. Eh, why not. I'm hardly short on cash, but anything to help a fellow countryman (he carried an Irish, not a British passport). I had heard about him while I was in Esfahan: one of the shopkeeps told me another guy from Ireland was here. How many could there be at the same time? He's a character. He's been here a month now. Yesterday, with one day left on his visa, he went to Rasht, planning to explore the Caspian coast. But the visa office/police said that after two extensions, they can't or won't give him any more. Uhoh. He hopped the next bus to Tabriz, where lucky for him, they gave him 7 more days, but also wrote "no more extensions." on his passport. He's been living in Asia 4 years now, but only travelling for the last 10 months. He told me there were a couple Dutch people he met at the police station earlier today who had just entered the country. They were bicycling from Holland to Calcutta. Wow. Maybe they'd like to change money. They are staying at our hotel as well, but they were not in when I checked. Adam has been on buses for the last 2 nights now, so I left him to nap. Again to the bazaar one more time to try and find something to buy. Nope, nothing. Having nothing better to do, I sat in the park to draw. Immediately the usual friendly people wanting to talk drew near, but I just wanted to draw, not have the same old questions repeatedly asked. So. As ashamed as I now am to recall it, I put myself in a truly nasty mood, glaring and snarling at those curious people who drifted too close, ignoring the repeated inquisition, and driving people off with my sullen rageful atmosphere. I just wanted to be alone, impossible for a Westerner in this country. It started to rain, so I gave up and went back to the hotel. Talking with Adam some more. I didn't notice how much I missed speaking with a native English speaking person, it's been so long. He had a shortwave radio. Wow, world news! Kidnappings in Kashmir, more shootings and death in Karachi, near war between Egypt and Sudan after a failed assassination attempt on the Egyptian president. Even if I wanted, there would be no way to travel overland to Kenya now... I gave up on the Dutch, they hadn't been in all day, but Adam didn't want me to get screwed, so he kept going down to their room until they returned. We spent an enjoyable evening talking. They shared fruit, Adam had tea, and I had biscuits. No, they had just changed US$100 this morning, and didn't want any more right now. As a favor to me, they changed US$20, but that's all. It was frustrating for me, because I know they'll need to change again, but I don't want to push them too hard. I'll see what I can find at the border... They've already had quite a time on their journey already, and after 3 or 4 months, they're only 2 days behind schedule! Pretty impressive if you ask me. The girl had an interesting time when they first entered Iran. She had been wearing a long raincoat over her clothes to respect the hejab. But truck drivers kept catching glimpses of leg as they passed by. They would stop their huge trucks in the middle of the road, pull into reverse, and almost run her down trying to get a better look. This continued until she had a chador custom made for her that gave her the proper modesty for this country. Bicycling in Muslim cover, what a pain! |
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| 10 July | Maku | |
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Up at 5:30 to move out. First to my favorite bakery, buying a couple more loaves, then to the terminal. I could finally read the signs well enough to find my bus out back. The bus left on time. True to form, it was the most luxurious bus yet, with only 3 seats across, windows that opened, and it never stopped except at one checkpoint. We drove through some very beautiful land. Ridges, hills, mountains, all colors, fading away into the distance. When I was not fixated on the surroundings, I was ripping through Danziger's Travels, a book I traded Adam for my Railway Bazaar. I've been looking for this book ever since Barry told me about it in New Zealand, 8 months ago. It's just the kind of book I need right now.
The bus arrived in Maku very early. My LP said it took about 5 hours, we did it in 3. But when everyone started getting off, and the taxi drivers start calling out "Bazargan!", I guessed we had arrived. No one believed me when I said I was staying here tonight. I guess few Westerners do. I could continue on, but I'm just going to take it slow and easy. I walked the short distance to town and checked into the Hotel Arvand. I had a big clean room with sink for 8000R.
I don't know what it is about border towns, they just put me in a good mood. In Shiraz or Delhi, Yogya or Sydney, I may be in a good or bad mood. But something about going to a new country just gives me a real buzz. Even Jakarta was better the second time, when I was leaving for Singapore. Taftan was interesting, Amritsar magic. Each time, I'm just bursting with good energy. Today, I was walking along, giving everyone a salaam, accepting the occasional offer of tea, gracefully turning down the many others, having a mellow time. Just maybe it's the town. The people here seem exceptionally friendly. The town is set in a huge gorge. Beautiful cliffs rise up immediately on both sides, leaving only a very narrow strip where houses are built. The effect was breathtaking. All this extra energy went to my brain and made me stupid. I raced up the streets on the side of town to where the cliff began. It looked gradual enough, there were good holds, yeah, I'm gonna climb up to that viewpoint, maybe 30m up. Um. It was an easy enough climb, but the rock was very crumbly. I made the mistake of looking down once and froze when I realized the steep drop below. Just before my goal, a foothold gave way. I fall. Only luck caused my flailing hand to catch an outcrop and stop me from going all the way down, a definite broken leg at the very least. Shaking, I hung there with my feet dangling until I regained my nerve and climbed back down, trembling the entire way. A group of kids who had witnessed this followed me down the street, shouting and pointing up at the cliff, telling newly arriving kids what this crazy foreigner was doing. Soon, I had a troop of about 20 of them trailing behind. They kept asking me questions in Farsi. I've been asked so many times, I understood. I'm from Eerland, John, 2 o'clock, Turkey, Iran's great... I'd had enough rockclimbing for now. Other than the wonderful scenery, there was not much to do here, so as usual I retreated to my private room and finished off most of Danziger's Travels.
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©Copyright Seán Connolly |
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