I liked this group picture as there's a lot going on, and not just the usual posed shot ...Leaving Tehran
We eventually left Tehran to a most amazing farewell. It began the night before, at around 11.am with an emotional response from each one of the family. I do have to make a really special mention here to Akhter, who shed a few tears, Omid whose warmth came beaming across as always, kind words from Sussan and a hand made picture with hearts sketched on it from Tabasson. In fact everyone contributed in one way or another ... Even Reza had whiskery kisses for both me and Bjorn (not that I can talk, with my near-permanent 5 day stubble these days).
After my earlier whinge about the cost of travel, here was a family that did all they could to make our stay as comfortable as they could. As well as ensuring we didn't foot the bill for anything while we were with them in their house. It made me realise I was being one of things that I really disliked in others, and that was small-minded. Akhtar's family altered my mind-set about people, and many things that resided in a cynical part of my brain. It was a small change, but nevertheless a significant shift in perspective. While true that the city is bound to be a crazy, wild-ride for anyone not local or native, there is no indication that Tehran should be a city to hold fond memories for anyone. But it most certainly does for me. I was to leave carrying some very profound thoughts with me. Omid, Akhtar, Suzzan, Sholee, Tabasom, Tarranom, Wian, Reza, Zenap, and not to forget Mr Mohammad, and the rest of this wonderful family, were responsible for doing something few people have ever managed during my life. And that is, in changing my mind ...
Early next morning, everyone except the kids got up to see us off. With Omid, Akhtar and Sussan going with us in Omid's car to wave goodbye at the city limits. They drove with us way past the outskirts of Tehran, just to ensure we were on the correct road. More hugs, more thanks, more gestures of sadness at our departure. But go we must, as our journey has to take us further East. We were being given a send off fit for the Great King Darius. Right to the end, the echoes of hospitality continued. My thoughts stayed with them for many many miles. Some thoughts remain with them still.
Akhtar, Omid & Suzzana seeing us off ...The Road out of Iran
The road-maps showed that while in Tehran we were around 400 miles from Bojnurd (love that name). This was to be our targeted last town in the north east region, before we made our way along the final bit of road which led to a border crossing out of Iran. Even though we'd not been on the bikes for a week or more, these short stints were becoming increasingly tiring. After a couple of brief leg-stretches, we eventually stopped for a kip under some trees that were just set back from the road for some 20 min's. The initial ride through the Alborz mountains when first setting out from Tehran, saw the temperatures dropping lower than anything we'd had for some time. It was distinctly cool near the upper passes. So much so, I even considered zipping up the vents in my jacket and getting out my scarf. But rather than stop, shivered onwards till we we began the descent on the far side of the mountains. It was the first time I'd been properly cold in what seemed like weeks, with hot to very hot days becoming the norm. When we started descending after the Alborz passes, the afternoon got predictably warm.
I'm not so sure if this piccy was taken on the ride from Tehran. But thought I'd stick it in anyway ...There were boys selling fish on 'sticks' caught from the Caspian Sea. From a distance it looked like they were holding up lances as carried by North American indians during their ceremonies. But as we got closer and passed by, could see that instead of feathers there were fish dangling from the pole. A stop-off for tea and water gave our sore butts chance to get some feeling back into them. The locals I recall were gently friendly and the tea was delicously thirst-quenching. Gulping down 3 cups in quick succession, was a sure sign I was getting dehydrated. While in mid-slurp a chap named Mohammad invited us to stay with him. We felt compelled to let him down, as we'd decided to get a few more miles under our belt before nightfall. Arriving in what was to be our last Iranian town, Bojnurd (doncha' just love that name) gave up one of it's cheap hotels without the usual difficulties. After a few semi-traumatic hotel hunts on previous overnighters, this was a breeze. Pulling up for a 'nose-about' half-way into town, glanced across the road and there around 30 metres away was a hotel. It turned out to be both basic and cheap. Just what we were looking for!
Next morning the young guy running the place invited us for tea. We'd packed up ready to leave, when he'd spotted our supplies for brekkie, which we'd planned to munch just prior to setting off. Ushering us back inside he disappeared momentarily to fill the kettle, leaving us to hunt out a seat and lay out our meagre brekkie on the cleanest spot of a nearby cofee table. While waiting we made a start with our dry-bread, fruit and packet of biccy's. Then our young host came and sat with us and poured the tea, after which he proceeded to show us a variety of dodgy short movies on his mobile-telephone. This included one noteable clip, of a lithe young lady dancing eastern styley, hands above her head and winding their way into the air above. Fully intending to feign polite approval, found myself watching this one with some interest. The lady concerned was rather gifted with sinous fluidity that allowed her dance movements to be very provocative indeed. Even though she was moderately dressed in jeans and T-shirt, have got to say that despite her modest attire, found it to be quite erotic. Thinking this was a prelude to more hard-core stuff, was surprised to find that, that was as good (or bad, depending on your perspective on such things) as it got! It seemed that either his tastes or maybe the general availability, limited the content. It made little difference though, as he was clearly delighted and laughed with glee, while he continued to hunt through the directory, for yet another forbidden treat with which to entertain us.
If we thought that the moderate content of this guys moby was a bit of a surprise, it was nothing to what the next country had in store for us. Turkmenistan might be a lot of things, but moderate was not a description that easily fits.
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