Tabriz to Tehran
For most, the name "Iran" conjures up images of a closed-off world, western hostility and in the extreme, acts of terrorism. My friends and family were keen to dissuade me from visiting but if it was adventure I wanted, then this would surely be the place. So despite their best efforts, with visa in hand, and a wad of crisp US Dollars, I left Turkey and entered this veiled land.
So Iran...terrorists and nuclear warheads right?...
From the border
I entered the country 150km east of Van. It was no-mans land, and a far cry from the West. These are my first sights in Iran
It was 100km to the nearest big town and with only one road to choose from, I meandered through the valley passing police checkpoints.
My first few days in Iran went very smoothly and I made good progress on flat and gorgeously smooth roads. Compared to Turkish highways, this felt like a spin round a velodrome.
I didn't understand the language however and the alphabet was impenetrable. It all felt very alien to me. There was no wifi, limited Internet and ATMs didn't accept foreign cards. Once my money ran out, that was it...
Road from Khoy
After 250km in two days I arrived in Tabriz, Iran's 3rd biggest city. This was a country with no regard for traffic rules and the city was no place for a big lad on a bike.
My first sight of a Persian domed mosque.
But in all, there was little to see in Tabriz and I was quick to leave the next day. My schedule was tight to make it to the Persian Gulf in 30 days. But I had time to pick up some pastries.
The pollution and the noise however got too much and I was pissed off with it all...this is my pissed off face
I had a strop and pulled into this roadside joint. Little did I know I would end up staying 2 days as the snow came down hard and the wind whipped up a blizzard. I had bed and board in exchange for doing a few dishes. In all though, it was a mind numbing experience and wanted to leave
I sat and watched this guy chuff on his pipe all day and stared blankly at the passing traffic.
When I left, the snow had stopped but lay thick on the ground. It was freezing and I really didn't enjoy it. The road to Tehran was for trucks built before the 1979 Revolution and the fumes filled my lungs. From Tabriz it also started to get hilly.
The reassuring sign of a mountain ski resort. :-/
The next couple of days were tough. I wore every item of clothing and just put my head down and pedalled. Nights were spent in my tent, it was baltic, and I got little sleep. But as always, at your lowest ebb, things can only get better.
And like an angel, this chap flagged me down outside the town of Miyaneh and insisted i stayed with him. He too was a cyclist and I couldn't refuse. It was a public holiday and I was taken with the family up a mountain. Cue family pics and me awkwardly holding a child..
They were lovely though and delighted in showing me their country.
This was Hushang. Me and him would share a lot of time over the next few days!
And this was Karvoos. He had hands as big as my head. He was affectionately known as Metal Man
I was taken to meet everyone in the village.The man on my right was the big cheese. Not
Sure who the kid belonged to but a nice photo
That first night we cooked kebabs, drank (illegally ;)
and they gave me a pasting at chess. Still I enjoyed
The liquor
With a sore head, Hushang and I were woken
in the shack at the bottom of a field by two
shepherds who invited us for breakfast.
This was about as rustic a breakfast as you could
imagine. Milk straight from the sheep and cooked
in a pot until it went like creamy rubber. Was
actually delicious! It was also lambing season so
new borns were breaching everywhere
Hushang was a lorry driver and I was put in his
care for the next couple of days. It seemed that
life for drivers here revolved mainly around volleyball..
I wanted to play but after testing me out, my skills were
Deemed insufficient, so I sat and watched.
When my new host offered me a bed, I hadn't
imagined this...
Top bunk in the lorry cab.
Some Scenes from Miyahah
He got a better tune out of it than me...
And then after a long two day wait, Hushang
finally got a job and we would leave first thing for
Tehran. I was behind schedule now so would
hitch a lift a couple hundred kms in the cab.
A free-for-all at the lorry depot. It's luck of the draw
who gets work and who doesn't.
Tyres checked, bike loaded, we were ready to roll.
I could get used to a trucker's life! I could live out
my dreams of being Kris Kristofferson in the
film classic "Convoy".
...sadly we had no AB Radio, so I couldn't call
my fellow truckers..."breaker, breaker,
This is Red Goose, do you copy??"
We drove through the night. Brothers on wheels,
Tango and Cash. Turner and Hooch. Me, his
loyal sidekick. He was a good good man, Hushang,
and we eventually arrived in time for dinner with his
family
After another night in the cab, it was my time to
leave. I'd said goodbye to many folks I'd met on
my travels but this was a tough one. Hushang wouldn't
let me cycle the rest to Tehran so he booked me
a cab. I hadn't showered in a record 5 days and
by now all I wanted to do was find hotel.
The lads. After some big manly hugs, we parted ways.
Off to Tehran.
I cycled through the city centre. This was a shock.
The worst traffic ever. Motorbikes come from
every angle and the noise was deafening. I
narrowly survived several head-on pile ups.
But by lord, they do good milkshakes. And the
falafel wraps were less than 50p. This was my first
experience of a relatively cosmopolitan city for a good
month. The city itself is nothing special, but the
people are as ever welcoming. I can also recommend
their dental work. An unplanned visit to the dentist
cost a tenth of the price of the UK. I spent 3 nights
there and I relaxed, recovered, and planned the
next leg of my journey...
Onwards to Esfahan!!
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