Alien in Iran

"...The place has obviously not seen many Europeans lately. We are surrounded by three groups of people who want us to come and stay in their homes. It's like a competition, where we are the prize. The four students that are studying to become English teachers win. They spoil us in a cozy but simple house that they share. We have a really good time with these guys..." (from April 19 below)

"...-Passport! He says. -Police! He pulls my arm. I think it's some kind of a scam and walk up to three uniformed police officers. I point the man out. From their body language I realize that I've been mistaken. The police constables has a lot of respect for the little aggressive man. We follow him to the hotel. I'm very upset about the hassle we get all the time and make scene about it. We get someone to translate my angry questions, but he refuses. The whole thing ends with me and both passports in the police station. I have to answer some questions and come back again tomorrow morning for the passports..." (from April 20 below)

Iran; A country of contrasts. Lovely people, suspicious police (away from the cities). Dry deserts, lush mountains. Old churches, great mosques. I can recommend Iran to anyone.

April 1, 1998 - The Tire

(Bazargan 5974 km)
There is a long line of trucks at the border. We don't have to wait for cars and trucks, but we cue up at the passport control on the Turkish side of the border. We talk to a family from Teheran while we wait. They have been to Turkey on vacation.

We get our Turkish stamp and are showed into a large hall. Only about five to six people are allowed inside in one go. In the middle of the room there is a line in the floor, the border. On the eastern wall there is a large photo of Ayatollah Khomeini. Kemal Ataturks picture hangs on the western wall.

We are welcomed to Iran and get almost no hassle in customs. A man tells me to open my panniers. He asks if I have any whiskey or pornography. I say no. He never looks in the panniers.

On the way down to Bazargan, the border town I get my second flat tire for the day. It turns out to be worse than a hole in the tube. The front brake has been badly adjusted and has worn down the side of the tire. There are no good tires in the local bike shop, but the guys who run it offers shelter from the rain and tea. The give me an offer. The will take a taxi to the nearest city to get a tire for me and come back here and put it on. They want ten US dollars for it.

I accept the deal, and go for dinner and a shower in the hotel just opposite the bike shop. When I return to the lobby, the bike has got a new front tire. Good service. Goodnight!

April 2 - Waving a Thousand Times

(Qare Ziya'od-din 6094 km)
We leave Turkey and Mount Ararat behind us and make it toward Tabriz. The first town, Maku, lies in a deep valley. The highway follows the valley down to a flat landscape and a warmer climate. It's a holiday, and thousands of Iranian families are out on pick-nick along the road. They all wave and cheer as we pass. We wave back to them all out of politeness. A couple of boys follow us on there bikes for ten kilometers. Trees are getting light green. some are in bloom. It's spring. Later in the day Janet decides to hitch up a small pass. Jörgen and I keep cycling. When we reach the top of the hill a car stops us. The driver is very upset about something. After some tricky sign language, we start to get it. He's upset because we have left a woman on her own. He obviously think Janet is my or Jörgen's wife (she locks young enough). Anything else would be unheard of. We try to explain, but it doesn't work. We keep going. Just a few minutes later the man stops again and starts to bark at us in Persian (Farsi), he's more aggressive now.

Janet saves us more hassle as she jumps off the back of a pick-up truck. We cycle together down to the next town. Some juveniles on mopeds show us the way to a little pension.

April 3 - A Bread Ride

(Marand 6194 km)
I'm in charge of the breakfast shopping today. I don't see any obvious shops or bakeries so I ask a man on the pavement. He speaks a few words of English and pulls me along to show me. He stops a taxi and takes me five minutes down the road, get out to buy bread (about a kilo of it), and then we return to the hotel. When I try to offer him money he refuses.

The ride to Marand is easy. We get stopped by the police once. They tell us to go inside to see the boss. He asks where we come from. When I say Sweden we can go. They don't look at our passports. Janet passes as a Swede as well.

The landscape is open. We see camels in the distance. It's almost dark when we reach Marand.

Something strange happens in the evening. A man sits down to talk to us in the hotel. After an hour or so the phone is ringing in the lobby. It's for Jörgen! Nobody knows we're here, so this must be some kind of joke, I think to myself. The man in the other end has warned us about the man we're just talking to. He also mentions a Swiss couple that has been robbed around here. The friendly guy later shows us his Swiss watch. How many people can get hold of something like that in Iran?

April 4 - The Japanese

(Tabriz 6267 km)
We set off early. It's a long climb up to a pass with good views. On the other side we get down to the plains around the Orumiye Lake. This is where we find Tabriz. One of Iran's bigger cities.

We head for a hotel popular with overlanders. The place has gone expensive and is also full (all because of a Lonely Planet listing, no doubt). We meet two Japanese cyclists and decide to meet them later in the evening. They have a lot of information for us. We get city maps, info on visa extensions, cheap pensions, scams, you name it. One of the guys, Osama, has traveled by bike for over five years.

April 5-6 - The Visa Extension

(Tabriz)
We only have a transit visa for Iran. It's good for a six day stay. That means we have to get out of the country tomorrow or extend the visa. Our Japanese friends got a two week extension here in Tabriz. We're going to ask for a 30-day extension. The location of the visa office is incorrect in the guide book. We find it after asking around. The office is closed because of some national holiday. We have to go back tomorrow, the last day on our visas. We eat pizza (the best in Iran according to my guide book), and I buy a new bike chain.

The next day, a Tuesday, we go back to the visa office. The officer is friendly. We have to fill in forms, hand over photos and passport and explain why we need to stay longer. We state that cycling through the whole country is important for us. Thirty more days is what we need. The man wants to give us two weeks, but Jörgen insists, and we get our one month extension.

More pizza is the only celebration I can think of.

April 7-11 - Hospitality

(Takab 6600 km)
It takes us five days to reach Takab a small town in the mountains. We camp near Azarsahr the first night. The second night we find a small hotel in Bonab. A student and a policeman turns our room into a party. They keep bringing tea, sweets, soft drinks and ice cream. They refuse to let us pay for any of it.

The next day we're invited to stay with a family. It's interesting to see how a home looks and work in Iran. The house is surrounded by high walls. It's like a small fortress. As soon as you walk through the gate, the rules from outside don't apply. The women feel free to take their hejab off even with male guests in the house. Inside the house, it's more like a western home, except you sit on the floor when you eat. The family has relatives in the next town we're going to and arranges so that we can stay there.

The last day to Takab involves a lot of climbing, but also beautiful scenery. We meet a lot of Kurdish people in this area.

April 12 - Throne of Solomon

(Takab)
We catch the bus to the Throne of Solomon, the main tourist attraction around here. We get it all to ourselves. Two or three other people walk around the ruins. The setting is spectacular. To the north there are snow clad mountains. To the west there is a village and a volcano. The site itself is built on a low volcano. The ruins surrounds a crater lake there is a high wall around it all.

April 13 - Highest Town in Iran?

(Bijar 6691 km)
catch the

April 14 - Police Trouble

(Gol Tappe 6782 km)
Janet and I go shopping after a breakfast in the hotel. When we're about to leave we get hassled by not so friendly police officers in the street. They want to see our passports, and then they tell us to leave Bijar. That's what we wanted to do anyway. On the way out of town we get stopped again, by friendly police this time. They don't ask to see our passports. After just a kilometer, a police car pulls up to tell us that the road ahead is just a small dirt road. We thank them for the information and continue. We chose the smaller road to get out in the countryside and away from traffic.

I have to stop to change a gear wire. I don't catch up the others until the next village. I don't see them there, but a man orders me to stop at the police station. J and J are already there. The police take our passports and let us wait. They are friendly and offer us cigarettes, sweets, and tea. After almost an hour, a jeep arrives. Three important looking officer come into the station courtyard. All the other policemen are saluting them. One of the men sits down at a desk in the biggest office. He looks at our passports and hands them over. We may leave. One of the men give us a few cucumbers before they get back into the jeep and drives off.

We continue down the dirt road toward Ali Sadr Caves. We get stopped by police one more time before we camp near a small village.

April 15 - On a Boat in a Cave

(Ali Sadr Caves 6818 km)
We ride into Gol Tappe for brunch. It's just another ten kilometers or so to the cave Ali Sadr. It's a huge cave quite recently discovered by a shepherd looking for a lost goat. It's now a major tourist attraction. We get there on a Thursday, and it's very crowded with families and students. The cheering from the kids spoils the experience, but the cave itself is impressive. We get into small boats towed by the guides' boat. The guide tells us all about the cave in Persian (I assume that is what he's on about). After a fifteen minute ride we all get off and walk up stairs to large rooms with enormous stalagmites and stalactites. One is called Statue of Liberty!

Jörgen and I camp near the cave in the evening. Janet splashes out on a stay in the fancy tourist hotel run by the government.

April 16-18 - The Parade

(Hamadan 6894 km)
We cycle into the city of Hamadan on April the sixteenth, and stay a couple of day. It's a nice enough city with pretty snow clad mountains in the outskirts. I make a day trip up there one day.

There is a military parade on our last day in Hamadan. The hotel manager tells us to stay inside, but I manage to sneak out to get a few photos, and hamburgers.

April 19 - Teachers Win

(Malayer 7034 km)
Jörgen and I cycle the easy 40 kilometers to Malayer. The place has obviously not seen many Europeans lately. We are surrounded by three groups of people who want us to come and stay in their homes. It's like a competition, where we are the prize. The four students that are studying to become English teachers win. They spoil us in a cozy but simple house that they share. We have a really good time with these guys.

April 20 - Police State

(Borugerd 7094 km)
Our hosts take us out for some sightseeing. We explore some old wooden mansion. It's not really set up for tourists, but our friends know about it. I hope they restore the place. It has probably been neglected since the revolution.

We take a group photo and head of to Borugerd. There is an interesting bazaar, and a beautiful mosque. Some kids just can't stop following us around. On the way back to the hotel I get stopped by a small man in a beige jacket.

-Passport! He says. -Police! He pulls my arm. I think it's a scam and walk up to some uniformed police officers. To point the man out. I soon realize that I've been mistaken. The police constables has a lot of respect for the little aggressive man. We follow him to the hotel. I'm very upset about the hassle we get all the time and make scene about it. We get someone to translate my angry questions, but he refuses. The whole thing ends with me and both passports in the police station. I have to answer some questions and come back again tomorrow morning for the passports.

April 21 - Carrot Juice with Ice Cream

(Dorud 7153 km)
I have to meet more police officers in the morning. One speaks reasonable English. I try to explain that we have a lot of problems with the police. The keep holding us up. He promises to take action. I'm dismissed for the moment but do not get the passports. I have to go back and wait at the hotel. Around ten the man with some English comes over with the passports. -Everything ok. We have called other police on your route.

It's sound too good to be true, but we're on our way.

I get sick around lunch time, but recover in the afternoon as we get to Dorud. I get into the local habit of mixing carrot juice and ice cream. We also visit the hamam (bath house, Turkish style). Our cheap pension hasn't got a bathroom!

April 22 - A Nasty Crowd

(Aligudarz 7226 km)
It's a good day for cycling. The wind only turns against us on the last ten miles into Aligudarz. A pick-up truck pulls over just on the outskirts. It's Janet. We cycle together into the center of town. There is something special about coming into a town like this on bicycle. Everyone turns around to look. We're real novelty here. Today it's a bit too much. As soon as we stop to get oriented, we're surrounded by perhaps fifty people. We're tired and not in the mood for this at all. We move a hundred meters up the road just to get away. The crowd catches up and is even bigger this time. The police is blaming us for the crowd. We finally find a small fast food place where we can sit down. The manager is a cool guy and understands our situation. He scares most of the crowd away by splashing water at them!

We don't get much peace and quiet in the evening either.

April 23 - 231 Kilometers and Two Thieves

(Esfahan 7457 km)
We're going down a couple of deep river valleys in the morning. After lunch we climb a low pass, but we're getting excellent tail wind. Jörgen and I decide to continue past Daran. Janet stops for the day.

We look at the map and head for a village/town called Askaran. It turns out to be just a hamlet. We decide to go a hundred miles. A magic record. The helping wind is still present. We do 35 km/h without much effort. It's getting dark, but we continue.

At 100 miles there is nothing. We decide to go for 200 kilometers. Another magic number. We're flying down the highway in the dark. There are four lanes as we get closer to the big city - Esfahan. We pass 200 km around ten in the evening. We're in the suburbs of Esfahan and see no reason to stop now. The traffic is getting annoying at this point. Cars and motorbikes tend ride close to us just to have a look and say hi. It's ok for a while, but very irritating after a while. I tell the most dangerous and persistent bike rider to f--- off! He and his friend on the back does just that, but comes back a few minutes later to nick my parka from the rear rack. They turn around and disappear in the opposite direction before I can say the f-word again.

I find the nearest police station the report the crime, but it's a waste of time. The police seem more interested in my passport, than to report what I have experienced. I feel like the criminal.

We continue into Esfahan around midnight. We check in at the Amir Kabir. A travelers hang out.

April 24- May 1, 1999 - Tea Time

(Esfahan 7513 km)
Esfahan is a beautiful city. I can understand why it's the most visited city in Iran. It's got a more liberal feel to it than most of the smaller towns we've seen. The Emam Mosque is one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. The tea houses is where I spend most of the time though.

May 2 - Alone in the Desert

(Koruye 7628 km)
It's time to extend my visa again. I do it on the way out of Esfahan. I get sixteen more days. I doubt that I can extend it a third time, and I might not want to.

I cycle on my own today. Jörgen starts later. We decide to meet in the next town. I get there very early and decide to continue after a quick dinner. I camp in the desert mountains thirty kilometers further on. Jörgen doesn't show up.

May 3 - Up and Down

(Meymend 7740 km)
It's getting more mountainous as I get closer to the high parts of The Zagros Mountains. Today includes two higher passes and a few smaller hills. I camp near the lowest part of the road to Shiraz.

May 4 - The High Pass and the Nomads

(Yasuj 7849 km)
I start early. There are not many villages to stop in here. I have I very steep road ahead. I sometimes have problems getting up even on the lowest gear. The last five kilometers takes ninety minutes. I zigzag across the road to make the slope easier to handle. The road also zigzags up the mountain. I reach the pass by two p.m. It's lunch time.

I cannot go fast on the way down as I hoped. The road is full of nomad families and their animals. It takes the rest of the day to get down to Yasuj. It's dark when I cycle into town. I man in a jeep, and some students invites me to stay the night. I follow the students because of their English. They take me to the collage dorm. There's a huge crowd of students outside the six bed dorm. Everyone wants to see the foreigner. I enjoy talking to the students, but I'm very tired. The noisy crowd outside the door doesn't cheer me up. After an hour the police comes to pick me up. All my luggage goes into a police van and off we go. One of the students follow me in the car. After an hour of waiting and questioning, the police wants to put me in a hotel. I ask them if they intend to pay for the stay. I also tell them I want to stay with the students. Someone translates and they look at the boss. -ok, comes the final decision. I can stay with the students. The police take me back in the van and everyone is happy.

May 5 - More Hospitality

(Sepidan/Ardakan 7927 km)
Another tough day of cycling. There are two high passes to cross. In the afternoon a bus pulls over in front of me. Philippe, a French man I met in Esfahan jumps out to say hi. We decide to meet in Shiraz.

It's almost dark when I reach Sepidan. After some food I get invited to the teacher in town. It's the son that takes me to their house. The father is surprised but welcomes me into his house. I get to see a beautiful home and meet a wonderful family.

May 6 - Summer Time

(Shiraz 8012 km)
An easy day of cycling. Only one long climb. Then it's slowly downhill to the city of Shiraz. As I get to lower altitude, it gets hot. The summer has definitely reached this part of Iran. I meet Philippe in the evening. I don't fin Jörgen.

May 7-10 - The First Bus

(Shiraz)
Jörgen turns up on the seventh. He's been back to Esfahan on a three day party with a guy who has lived in Sweden. Janet turns up on the ninth. She goes back to Esfahan the next day. Jörgen and I goes to Kerman on an overnight bus.

May 11-12 - The Cyclist

(Kerman 8067 km)
The bus stops for refreshments around midnight. We end up talking to a man from another bus going to Kerman. He turns out to be a cyclist. He shows us photos of him and several other western travelers on bicycle (or traveling cyclists). We decide to meet him in Kerman in the morning.

We meet Iraj at the little cafe by the bus station. He's got a colorful mountain bike with a lot of cool extras, like a radio and an Indian horn with four pipes. Now he guides us to a few cheap hotels. He says he would let us stay with him if it wasn't for the police. He's been arrested before for talking to foreigners.

After checking in, Iraj takes us for a long guided tour in the desert city. We stay for two days. Thank you, Iraj!

May 13-19 - Deserted City

(Bam 8112 km)
Bam is a fairy tale town. At least the old deserted part of it - Arg-e-Bam. It's a good place to hang out for a while. We stay a week.

May 20 - Desert Race

(Night bus to Quetta, Pakistan 8115 km)
We catch a bus to Zahedan. The last bigger town on the route to Pakistan. It's infamous for drug smuggling. Sometimes there are proper wars between border police and smugglers.

A curious young man cannot keep his hands off my bike. He tries to shift gears without pedaling and end up breaking my last gear wire. I get upset and demand a new wire. I do it out of desperation. I don't really expect anyone to be able to produce a good cable here. After half an hour I get my new cable. It's too thick, but I will be able to fix it somehow.

We hire a pick-up truck to take us the rest of the way to the border. There are very few vehicles on the road. The border crossing is closed for lunch on the Pakistani side!

Next