When we first enter ...
It was with a certain amount of trepidation, that we crossed the border into Iran. Our views on this country are well tainted with recent history of disagreements with world, and in particular American politics. And while there is little doubt that some of the country's laws are extreme, was hoping it did not reflect the true feelings of the populace within it's borders. I knew a little about the plight of the Kurds, but mainstream political issues still dominated my limited knowledge, giving are rather negative impression of what to expect.
The border formalities were a pleasant and relatively well-ordered process. With us being introduced to a very nice young lady, who'd been appointed to deal with us english speaking touro's. She took us through the requirements that included insurance for the bikes, and then helped us get our carnet stamped. The only downside for the whole affair was a grumpy carnet stamper. Leaning forward in a conspirital tone, she told us that he was often like this, and not to worry about it. I liked this young lady a lot and had an idea I was going to like Iran too. As border crossing's had gone to date, this one was reasonably efficient without any major difficulties, and to give further weight in the right direction, was completed in good time. It was an encouraging introduction to the Islamic republic of Iran.
After leaving the border post buildings area, we came to what looked like another check-point. A couple of non-uniformed yet smartly dressed chaps came out with smiling faces. The smiling continued as they questioned us in a clearly friendly way. It became quickly obvious that they were genuinely interested, rather than trying to impress us with their authority. I was offered tea, which I found while travelling this part of the world, a good way to break down cultural boundaries. Going into the guards booth discovered that even though it was fairly compact and bijou, I was still nevertheless offered a seat. Sitting supping a rather nice cuppa, I was happy to provide answers to their questions and satisfy their evident curiosity. The tea was good, as was the brief yet amiable banter. We went on our way with more confirmation that our visit to Iran could well be a pleasant one.
Our first taste of Iranian tea ... and famed hospitality!
As a motorcyclist the roads are always a point of interest whenever you enter a new country for the first time. Iran was no different. I do remember noticing how green everything seemed in comparison to Turkey. At the furthest reach of Turkey things were definitely on the dry side, with little evidence of agriculture. A short ride into Iran and things had definitely improved, with pockets of edible growing things all over the place. It wasn't exactly lush, but irrigation was a quantum leap ahead this side of the border. So for us the feeling of a journey through arid semi-desert, had left been swapped for something more verdant.
Tabriz
Tabriz town was our first night's stopover, and while on route there we did get a few clues as to what was to come. Each time we had to slow or go through a village, heads turned, and if for some reason we had to come to a halt, the people in the vicinity would be intent on either speaking to us or shaking our hands. These were people who clearly welcomed visitors, but didn't always know quite what to make of them when they suddenly appeared. Hardly a surprise though, as we arrived on *shiny-steeds, were garbed in odd looking clothing and with unshaven faces that were framed by our storm-trooper style helmets.
* Not really... but please excuse my authors licence, as most of the shininess on our bikes had long since been buried under several layers of road grime.
First hotel was a nameless characterless place of refuge, but the manager did let us put our bikes inside the lobby. A routine that was fast becoming commonplace. While adequate facilities, we did have to wear the cost of a room big enough for a small family, or band of travelling salesmen. Dollar signs ching-chinged in front of my eyes once more. And once more began getting nervous as to how long my travel budget would last. Looking at a map of the world, there was still a very long way to go. And as it wasn't one of my happier thoughts, pushed it to one side for the moment. But with a promise to myself, it wouldn't be too long before I'd need to review things.
One other issue was, that now we were getting deeper into the less charted countries of travel-land, found that we couldn't always get internet access too easily. We asked about internet, but got a firm no from the manager of this the first Iranian hotel, with few clues from him as to whether there was anywhere locally where we could plug into our respective friend and family networks. After advice before leaving the UK, which told me that there was 'wireless internet everywhere', it had prompted fantasies of hour-long chats over Skype every few days while off on my travels. Well that might've been so, for anyone with resource enough to stay in 'quality' hotels when hopping from town to town. But our tight budget's drove us to investigate the cheapest hostelries. It seemed then, that following the trail of the fleas and cockroaches, was to lead to a big disappointment regarding on-line access.
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