Did we know what to expect in Iran? Not at all. We had hoped to visit here when we left NZ over a year ago and finally it is reality. All the cyclists we met who had biked through absolutely loved it and spoke of the amazingly friendly people so we felt comfortable to see for ourselves. But I, as a women have to be fully covered in loose fitting clothes and a scarf covering my hair at all times. Could be interesting.
As I waited with the bikes while Trevor changed some money at the border an older lady came over, grasped my hands and said "It is so wonderful that you are here, I hope you enjoy Iran" This set the tone and was reiterated many times in the weeks ahead. Trevor arrived back with 7 million rial, his pockets bulging.
I forgot to mention the photos of the trucks in the last blog. Not sure if it is because this is the only border open at Bazargan but there were 2 lanes of fully laden trucks on both sides of the border stretching over 10km each way waiting to be processed. I think it would take many days. Some mini vans selling hot food and drinks to the drivers doing a roaring trade.
Off we went just 25 km to Maku, a town built in a narrow valley with amazing cliffs all around it. Young kids all yelling hello, where are you from and many toots and waves. We checked in to the tourist hotel pleasantly surprised at how nice it was and not smoky as we had in Turkey. We had time to visit the old ruins above the town just before dark, being shown around by a lovely old guy. In any other country we would have inadvertently hired a guide. Not here, just a handshake and a goodbye. We also watched a small parade and found out later today was day 1 of 40 days of (annual) mourning for Imam Husseini, a famous prophet who died 1500 years ago. This mourning time peaks on day 10, more on this amazing time in the next blog!
Then it was time to find somewhere to eat. Encouraged to come in at the first place, Goats head soup was on offer, the smell alone kept me away. Next a photo shoot with young girls at the pizza place on the corner but it did not appeal. Finally after putting our lives at risk crossing a few streets we found a burger place which was fine. 3 for 100000 rial or 10000 toman as they call it, confusing but about $5nz.
Day 1 and the scarf makes me feel sooo hot indoors. And the hotel has the central heating on.
Maku - Qaraziadin 90 km
Off early after a good buffet breakfast, similar to Turkey but flat bread, feta cheese, cucumber, tomato, eggs, honey, yoghurt. We hadn't gone far when we were invited into the local tea shop complete with water pipes and old guys smoking. Classic! (Photo)
A pretty easy ride on a noisy highway but a good shoulder to keep out of the way of speedy drivers. Feel like we might get RSI of the arm with all the waving going on...
Just as we got to the turn off close to Quaraziadin there were lots of buses and cars and people milling about, also a guy waiting for us, Tahud. He had passed us a few km back and decided to invite us to his house to stay for the night as he enjoys the company of foreigners and can practice his English. We chatted for a bit, he is an English teacher at a high school, a real extrovert with a great sense of humour. Another guy came along to talk to him, also a teacher. They quickly organized for us to leave our bikes at another teachers house nearby as Tahud lived out in a small village back the way we had come and as it turned out there was no hotel in the town so it was a great option.
Considering English was his third language, he spoke Turkish and Persian, he was like a walking talking Thesaurus! He had a cd playing in his car spouting English words and their meanings, most of the words neither of us had even heard of and those we had were not words that are used very often. He quickly decided he was a better English speaker than us.
His wife was away for the weekend at her parents but he invited his cousin over. His first question was "how did we know Tahud was not a terrorist?"
Because he told us...(as did everyone we met)
We enjoyed a meal (photo) and lots of laughs then went next door to meet more family and have tea. They were all very surprised that our children were not married and were adamant that it was my job as their mother to choose their spouse, as their mothers had, because mothers know best and have much more experience in these things. So look out kids, I will be home soon...
Qaraziadin- Marand 80 km
Reunited with our bikes early the next morning now sporting Iranian flags and a lovely breakfast all laid out awaiting us.
Tables and chairs are not the norm. A table cloth on the floor is how it is done here. Trevor is already struggling with sitting cross legged on the floor for more than 5 minutes.
Tahud headed off to school, 60 km away, close to the border with Azerbijan. It was drizzling but we thought all right to cycle in. Not so and too far according to our newly made friends. Tahud phoned to say wait for him to get back from school, so we did, enjoying a look around town then lunch and time with a nice young couple and baby. (Photo)
Tahud duly arrived back, stuffed our bikes in his small car and off we went to Mirand where a warm showers host, Akbar, was expecting us sometime that week. Everyone has a car here, they can have any colour as long as it is white, seriously 95% of cars are white! Petrol is very cheap as is gas that is used for heating and cooking.
Jakob, a German cyclist was also at Akbar's shop when we arrived. Akbar is famous for his hosting, we were numbers 685 & 686 of cyclists that have been through over the last 4 years. We enjoyed looking at his photos and seeing quite a number of cyclists that we have met on our travels. Whether you contact him or not he finds you! Truck drivers call him to tell him if there are any cyclists heading his way. He runs a grocer shop and is also a marathon runner. He knows what cyclists need after a day on the road. He took us to a falafal shop for dinner then we cycled in the dark through busy streets to a place to stay, basically a carpeted room with bathroom, we organized our camping mats and sleeping bags and all had a good sleep, he picked us up again in the morning, we headed back to his shop for breakkie, then he escorted us out of town and onto the right highway to Tabriz. He also had a NZ flag that he had been given sometime ago so that was duly attached before we left.
Marand - Tabriz 85 km
So it was 3 of us today. The landscape is amazing. Almost lunar like, brown red rocks and hills, not quite desert but very few trees. Easy cycling until we reached the outskirts of Tabriz the 4th largest city. Jakob had a GPS so we managed to find our way through the city traffic and busy streets to a campground that was free for foreigners. The drivers were great, we were obviously not the everyday occurrence and they gave way with many yelling welcome to Iran. The campground was safe and secure, fenced with a caretaker. Just no shower, they were out of order till next summer...
We got in touch with Ashkan and Hamid, two young guys, both warm showers members and they came over to spend the evening with us which was really nice.
A definite drop in temperature in Tabriz overnight, rather chilly but fine in the tent.
Ashkan came back the next morning loaded up with food, we had also been out to get supplies so we enjoyed breakkie outside in the sun, including fresh flat bread with cream and honey. Traditional! Tabriz and all of this northern area is quite Turkish, a lot of the people are actually Turkish.
We headed out to sort out our Iranian sim card, nothing foreign works here. That took a while then we made our way to the famous bazaar by bus.
Something very new to me - Women in the back half of the bus, men in the front. It was really crowded so it was difficult for me to keep an eye on the guys especially as all the women kept offering me a seat but I did manage to get off at the right stop. Gender segregation starts early here, actually at kindergarten, separate for boys and girls as are all the schools. Sport is also separate. Girls can play indoor but no male spectators if the women have their head scarfs off. Cycling is very uncommon for women on the highways or in the cities, not approved of but a few do cycle.
We wandered the covered bazaar, (photos) then had a traditional meal called dizi. A dish/pot of stew, meat, tomato, potato, chick peas, (I exchanged the chick peas for more potato)
The eating is then quite a process. Tip off the juice into a small bowl then tear of small bits of flat bread to go into it and soak it all up. Eat that first. Then mash up all the rest, we were all given a small masher, finally pull off small bits of bread and spoon on the mashed food. We were all given a jug of douk each, a watery tarty yoghurt drink similar to Ayan in Turkey but in Iran it has mint in it as well - It's great. It was all great!
Ashkan insisted all 3 of us come to his house to stay. We told him we were fine at the campground but he explained when he got home the night before his mother was concerned as it was so cold and woke him at 2am worried about us!
She was busy preparing dinner so we could not refuse, packed everything up and cycled to their apartment where we had a lovely evening, fantastic meal and were very warm.
So far we feel completely safe here, the people we have met are very friendly, very well educated, very generous, have lovely homes and seem to really enjoy having guests - they do not let us do anything - simply saying, No,No you are our guest.
Very humbling.
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