Category Archives: Iran

Our route through Iran on way to Mongolia on Big Trip

Iranian border to Zanjan

Border crossing took 90 minutes. Turkish border control just checked paperwork for safe export of vehicle. Border police on Iranian side opened automatic gate, which clanged shut behind us. They asked us if we had any alcohol (no), were we German as our visas had been issued in Frankfurt (no) and could they inspect the car (yes of course). Atle’s table fell out, they were impressed with my drawers ( thanks Tino), then they stepped away from the cars. Passport control asked if we had any alcohol several times, passports were stamped, carnet de passage filled in and we were on our way.

Bank exchange rate too low, so just exchanged Turkish dosh for billions and billions of Iranian Rials with money changer. He comes back agitated, but we don’t understand what the problem is. Drive out of compound, only to be chased by said money lender and two cronies. This does not bode well. Apparently we should have given a piece of very important paper in a mobile office. Asked for 50$ each, pay only 5$ each.

Drive to Maku, can’t find hotel. Atle asks young men for help. They lead us in convoy to hotel, no rooms at the inn, and we get accosted by youth drunk on whisky. Darn it. Apparently you are breaking the law if you are in possession of alcohol, but not breaking the law by being drunk. So if the box of red wine, two cans of beer and bottle of white wine had been on our inside, we would have been ok. The convoy then drives all the way back to the border, to a hotel 50m away from crossing!! Thanks lads. All tired and emotional so go straight to rooms. Bread, honey and water for supper. Move clocks one and a half hours forward. No Internet. Claire sends Happy Fathers’ Day text, but I can’t send reply. Gutted.

Wake up in Iran. Egg peeling competition at breakfast, Atle won of course. Remembered we needed local currency, got more billions of rials at hotel. Insurance company just next door, so now we and the vehicles are covered. Feel a lot happier now. People curious about Isabel, Hilde and LRs as they wait outside for us. Getting hotter. Know we have long day’s drive to Zanjan ahead, and don’t feel so great. Ask Is to keep me awake, so she thumps me intermittently and without warning for the next eight hours. Secretly she enjoyed that.

Strong crosswinds, 33 degrees – feels hotter in the car – and drinking water is boiling. Will have some in fridge for tomorrow. Landscape opening up, becoming more arid and sandy. Amazing rock layering, thought we were in Isles of Wight. Many speed traps and check points. Police and soldiers waved and smiled at us. Only pulled over once, they had cursory glance at passports, just wanted to chat.

Get on E2 motorway to Tehran. Little parking bays, no facilities. One service station over hundreds of kms. Toll booth attendants happy to talk to Isabel, asked where we were from, welcomed us, charged 5p for both cars. Next toll attendant held out phone to Is. “Talk”. “Hello!!!????” Whole row of attendants laughed, he handed her change and welcomed us to Iran. When she checked, he had returned her note. Fantastic.

Several big hill climbs, had to stop to let engine cool. Only once. GPS mapping not giving road names, so negotiating cities will be interesting. Good call on using ring road around Tabriz – a huge, wealthy city where financiers live. We need several breaks to stretch legs. Eat on the move, bread, olives, and dried plums. Ran out of water, but nearly there.

Motorway amazing. Variable surfaces, people walking along, sheep grazing, coaches dropping off passengers, food stalls, cyclists, family picnics……..

First impressions of Iran not favorable, tons of rubbish, miasmic smells. But now we are falling in love with it.

Arrive at Zanjan, sat nav says turn left – road closed. Sat nav says turn right – no right turn. Manic traffic. Families coming out of huge mosque, real party atmosphere. People honk horns at us, wave, shout welcome, let us in. Head towards hotel on street which sat nav says doesn’t exist, cross crazy junction, drive wrong way down one way street and park outside gates to secure car park. Made it.
Girls attract large crowd as Atle and I book in. Isabel talks to woman from Insurance office. “Why did you come to Iran?” Lots of discussion about election, everyone excited and looking forward to bright future. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

Walk around town after dinner, taking in sights and soaking up atmosphere. Shattered.

Zanjan to Tehran

Knew we had a shorter day driving, but told to get down to breakfast early as hotel full. The early bird gets the worm. A lot of foreign travellers. Isabel thinks she sticks out like a sore thumb wearing baggy clothes and dubious head scarf arrangements!! Iranian women very stylish.

Nasty smell in car, surely we don’t stink that much. I furtle around and fine slimy mushrooms. Atle catches gaz bottle on security gates, but no harm done. We have only been driving a couple of minutes when we find a LR garage. Well, we have to stop, jump out and have a nosey. As we drive off a police car pulls Atle over – just to have a natter. Need fuel, fill both cars for 250,000 Rials -Nasty smell in car, surely we don’t stink that much. I furtle around and fine slimy mushrooms. Atle catches gaz bottle on security gates, but no harm done. We have only been driving a couple of minutes when we find a LR garage. Well, we have to stop, jump out and have a nosey. As we drive off a police car pulls Atle over – just to have a natter. Need fuel, fill both cars for 250,000 Rials – £26. Bargain. Atle is leading, and we miss the turn for the motorway as he is ogling a Landie. We take lead. Suddenly can’t see them in mirror, they had stopped to change drivers. Hilde had noticed other women driving, so she knew it was ok. Soon lose them again. Diagnostic kit said “Driver error!!!” Hilde thought this was hilarious. Park by a vineyard. Throttle cable was oiled and ECU changed. Landscape more arid, but can follow water courses by the lush trees. Large iron mines and lumbering lorries. Really excited about going to Tehran.

Toll booth attendants wave us through and waives the fee – all 2.5p. Broken down lorry uses stones to cone off area. Good team work driving, CB radios help. Couple who waved at us on motorway come and talk at services. Isabel takes picture of first sign for Tehran. She is moaning about her camera being too slow to capture the moment. She’ll be wanting a new one for Christmas, no doubt. Traffic heavy through Tehran, and many new roads are not on say nav. But find Norwegian Embassy, to collect stuff for Hilde and Atle.

Very swanky apartment hotel. Handbrake doesn’t hold us on hill, so we park up to garage doors. Huge suite each, ours has balcony with 5 patio doors. Five loads go into washing machine, and dry within 40 mins. Beat that Will. We were going to taxi to a restaurant, but Iran has just beaten Korea in a World Cup qualifying game. We go outside to join in the celebrations. Cars whizz past with people hanging out, waving flags, horns tooting. They wave at us and shout welcome. We order a take away and eat together. Hilde says that if the Turkmenistan visas don’t come through, at least we have driven from home to Tehran. We feel privileged to be visiting Iran, but also it is such a historic moment to be here. We are sharing some of their joy at the election results and share their hope for a bright future.

Tehran

Wednesday 19th June 2013.

Wake up in Tehran. Lazy morning, reading paper, drinking tea. A lot about the recent elections here. Bring coffee making stuff from car, and Hilde joins us on balcony. Natter. Order two taxis, as Ali will be our guide. We career through the traffic. The drivers are amazing, I think they must have eyes in the back of their heads. Stop for several photo opportunities. We visit the Golestan Palace. Tehran is not a very old city, and is the 39th national capital. Palace and treasures have world wide influences. Art, pottery that was similar to Wedgwood and Delft, gifts from Queen Victoria and Tzar Alexander. French furniture and Chinese vases.

Walk through working mosque to bazaar. Only saw a tiny part of it. Much cooler on inside that out. Bought something for home. Vibrant, colourful and teeming with people. Back outside we buy a frozen lemon juice drink, delicious. See man selling baby chicks and ducklings dyed florescent colours. He put them in a paper bag when sold. Hot and tired we head back.

A couple of hours later we head out to dinner. Witness two men fighting over a car bump, one had a stick. Our route runs parallel to the mountains, quite spectacular. Clutch on taxi smoking, so driver drops us at the bottom of a steep hill, and points upwards. We have the name of the restaurant written in Farsi, so we ask a taxi driver (green one as Ali insists upon), and eventually a waiter says we have found the right one. Walking up the hill was amazing, lights strung everywhere, stall keepers putting out their wares, cars crawling along. This is obviously a very affluent part of the city. We are all hungry, so fall silent as we eat. More kebabs, and not surprisingly Isabel has fish. Try to pay for over 20 minutes, leave money on table. Waiter comes running out, but not after us!!! Phew.

The parking is crazy, nowhere to turn easily, alarms and horns blaring, more cars and people coming up. Isabel stops to look at scarves. An old woman starts talking to her in fractured English. She insists on buying Isabel a scarf. “Why?” Because she wants her to always remember Iran. Eventually Isabel accepts, and cries. We hop into the green taxi with the helpful driver. When we get back, Ali said he had phoned the restaurant which was recommended, and we hadn’t eaten there!!!! Oh well, food was good anyway.

Leaving Tehran

Thursday 20th June 2013

Will today be the day we get our Turkmenistan visas? Leisurely breakfast, then we pack just in case. Hilde comes for coffee on balcony again. She then rushes off to pack. I have sneaky snooze whilst Isabel updates blog. We are catching up, but photo download didn’t work.

Phonecall comes, we have 20 minutes to get to consulate. Grab passports, document and spare photos. Rush out to taxi, clatter through the streets, good job it’s not too far away. Screech to a halt, all doors closed. Diplomatic Policeman says shut. Atle says paperwork already lodged and we have been called for. Policeman rings bell, someone comes eventually. Early closing on Thursdays, everyone going. Told to wait outside, Consular is in meeting and will see us after. Hilde takes a photo, bad move. Hilde and Atle look at their passports, and notice they only have two days left on their Iranian visa, so no pressure on getting this one then!!

One and a half hours later the door opens, and a young lad comes out. He nervously hands us application papers, in Russian, asks for passports and photos. We try to explain all that has already been sent. He rushes back and forth like Mr Bean. But it is obvious that they want all the paperwork from scratch. Hilde and Atle rush back to hotel for photos. Sheesh!!!! 3:30, 3:40, 3:45 – we stall as long as we can. Decide to give all our paperwork in. 85$ for GB, 55$ for Norge. Thank you very much. They arrive back, we help fill in forms – 3:55. Our visas are issued. People are leaving the building. 3:57 theirs are issued!!! We giggle manically. (If any of you have seen the film Argo, you will know what it felt like!)

Dash back to hotel, throw stuff in car. Fridge defrosted over last two days, so lost our Magnums. Can you eat them when they refreeze? Ali sends a driver on motorbike to get us to motorway – farcical. He runs out of fuel, refills, refuses money and we set out alone. Atle misses another slip-road ogling a LR. Shame on him. Journey to Semnan as dusk falls. Motorway sign says Police control the roads Imperceptibly. Climb to 1100 m. Many vehicles driving with no lights on in the dark. Hotel adequate, another buffet dinner with fish. Look at maps of Central Asia. Big countries with lots of mountains and few good roads ahead of us. Plan 2 heavy days. Cross border to Turkmenistan and spend tomorrow night in Ashqabad, famous for its British pub. Isabel washes today’s clothes in shower. Leave noisy air con on and sleep well.

Final Day in Iran?

Friday 21st June 2013

Wake early as planned. Breakfast early as planned. Don’t leave early as planned, the Hildefender won’t start. Atle weaves his usual magic on it and solves the challenge, alarm will not send fuel to engine. Fancy electronic cars! We change plans, as we are leaving later. Won’t go to Ashqabad, so no beer. Head straight to Mashhad, the pilgrimage Centre of Iran, so no beer.

Climb another 900 m. Scrubby grass and thorny trees. Rolling clouds over mountains. Stop for fuel. Man talks to Isabel, welcome to Iran. Finds out she is from England. “God bless your Queen. Queen Victoria”. Both sat navs say turn right, but the on board map shows turn left. Fancy electronic gizmos. Need to check which country we need malaria tablets for. Climb higher, large plateau, no trees here. Shame we are missing detours to see famous sights/sites, but we now fully realise we are visa driven and all have different deadlines. So if we want to stay together we have to forge ahead. Hilde is a harsh task master.

Stony desert now. Houses and mosques being built out of mud. Little boy on back of motor scooter, wearing Ronaldo shirt. 39 degrees in afternoon. Stop often to get cold water from fridge. Rationing the Coke. Miles and miles of windy, dusty conditions. Play silly games to keep each other awake – I spy something beginning with S, guess this tune Isabel is tapping out on the dashboard, and my head with an empty bottle. I am rubbish. Definitely a transportation day. I fill my Tilley hat with water to cool my head down.

See camels grazing, so must be in the desert. Just driven 7,000km since leaving home. Can’t believe we will be in the first of the Stans tomorrow. Dead fox (desert). Atle asks several times during the day “How many foreign number plates have you seen?” And the answer is always the same. We still have millions of Iranian Rials, what can we spend them on as we can’t take them out of the country? Are there underground wells here, wheat is growing and there are fountains of water bubbling up in huge concrete troughs. A police caravan, several steps up from their usual hut or even portakabin. The thousands of photograph displayed in every village, town and city must be fallen heroes. Iran/Iraq war perhaps?

Maybe the Landy is full of flies because of the forgotten courgettes. Have to have windows open, and Isabel’s scarf keep blowing off. Asked her this morning if she minded wearing it. She said no, but it made her neck hot and squished her hair flat. Whole family on scooter. CB crackles “Who would like a beer so cold that condensation is running down the outside?”

We stop at services. Full of families, pilgrims going to Mashhad this holiday weekend. There is a large pond with paddle boats in. We buy frozen water and lollies like Magnums. Yum. We attract a large crowd, who want pictures of the car, themselves and us. Decide not to go to Mashhad, we would probably not get a hotel room anyway. Feel ok to carry on near to border, and maybe even cross tonight. Will have to wash the cars before we can get into Turkmenistan, by law. What would they make of Hereford or Cornwall mud?

Not many people travelling in our direction now. Light is softer, temp cooling down and we are dropping below 1,000m for the first time since we entered Iran. Will be a bit of a shock if we leave tonight, not prepared for it. May stay in Sarakhs. See when we get there. Only 100km from an old Soviet Bloc country. More military presence as we near the border. Run out of fuel in main tank, on steep hill. Fill from extra tank. Atle says hurry up, he wants a pint across border.

Sun suddenly goes down. Shepherds here have very weather beaten faces, and look different from other Iranians in dress as well. Stop for last fill up, the lads spill fuel out of each tank. We decide to press on to the border. Hard driving at night. Drive up to border post, SHUT. Never mind, we had driven past the swanky looking Hotel Doosti. They have rooms. The place is like many hotels we have come across – stunning looking from the outside and a time warp inside. But we look at a fascinating scrap book with notes, photos and momentos from people who have stayed previously. Many of them are cycling the Silk Route.

Sit in parlour drinking tea. No Internet, so can’t update blog tonight. Shame as we have just caught up with ourselves.