From Barcelona to Tehran: Day 66

Day 66: Free Food and Riding Fast; From Arbab Kandi to Khalkhal in Iran 

July 5, 2012; Distance covered today: 167 Km; Total: 5435 Km

Although I was wearing my earplugs last night, I woke up a couple of times to the noise of dogs barking just outside my tent and travelers stopping for whatever reason. 

At 4 o’clock, the owner of the restaurant who also has a bakery woke me up. I packed up and bought some bread from him and left at 6. The ride started with some climbing, but after an hour it was a slight downhill all the way to Ardabil. At 9 o’clock, I arrived in Ardabil where I bought some cheese and milk, and had it with my bread when, out of curiosity, two guys stopped to talk to me. One of them was a funny man whose job was to hunt mice and sell to the laboratories. He said that Iran is a good country where you can easily make money, even by catching mice. He and the other guy invited me for lunch, but I had to get going. 

The breakfast took me 20 minutes. I started riding nonstop until 1 o’clock. While yesterday, I was entertaining the idea of getting a bus home, today, I was determined to finish the trip no matter what. I was fast and full of energy. At one, just before I turn toward the town of  Kowsar, I saw some crowd up ahead. It was a special day today, Nime- Shaban, one of the biggest holidays in Shia’a. There was free Sorba and cookie. People were dancing and having fun. I stopped and soon someone gave a bowl of Shorba. I finished it, and then there was a second, and some cake as desert. The way the people were approaching me was so funny. As usual, they thought I was not an Iranian, so they would start speaking English. There was a guy who would make fun of me and made up some kind of language just to have fun and make others laugh. After some time, it was getting too crowded. I left immediately after I finished my Shorba.

The Shorba event spot

Some kids at the event

Another free Shorba station

Some really good kids

The sun was really scorching. I could feel my skin being burned. I stopped at a gas station to wash my face and apply some new suntan lotion. I started climbing really steep roads in really hot weather. After two hours or so, I  arrived in the town of Kivi, where there was another free Shorba event. I got three bowls of Shorba this time. There were some really good kids I talked to. Around the free-Shorba station, there was lots of garbage from the disposable plastic bowls and glasses.

The road after Kivi was in a really bad condition, narrow with lots of potholes. At about 6:30, I arrived in the city of Khalkhal. As I was riding on the streets of Khalkhal to find a public park to camp for the night I saw an interesting bicycle. 

Interesting design but does it work?

I found a park where it was said lots of tourists camp at night. It was a very crowded park with lots of people hanging out. The toilets were filthy though. Some people in the park came to me to talk. I then cooked and got prepared to sleep.

From Barcelona to Tehran: Day 65

Day 65: Carrying Food, but no Cooking; From Gharakhan Beiglu to Arbab Kandi in Iran 

July 4, 2012; Distance covered today: 93 Km; Total: 5268 Km

I woke up at about 7, had breakfast, and said goodbye to Hosein the owner of the restaurant. I had to climb 30 Km before I got a break. Then I was biking mostly in a rather dry region. It was such a change from the areas I was riding for a couple of days. There were only wheat fields, and in this time of year, they have turned gold, which looks rather dry. It was really hot, so riding was not very much fun. 

The road I was riding on most of the day

Nothing special happened during my ride today. It was about six thirty when I started seriously looking for a place to make my camp. I checked a side road where a woman was washing some clothes . There were two boys standing and watching her too. I figured they were her boys. I asked her if the water was drinkable. She said yes. I was going to take some water and leave, but I couldn’t find a post or a tree to lean my bike against it, so I asked the boys to come to me; I was thinking of asking them to bring me water. But when I asked them to come to me, one of them shouted, “Na?” meaning, “What?”. I asked them to come to me again, and he shouted angrily, “Na?” again. They did come to me, but I changed my mind and just gave them some candy. One of them got the candy, but the angry one refused to get it and said, “give it to him (meaning his brother) so I did.

For some time, I was wondering why he was so angry. I put myself in their shoes for a sec. Their mother was washing clothes with her bare hands; apparently, they were so poor that they didn’t even have access to water in wherever they lived. The boys were too young to work and give their mothers a hand, but old enough to understand what was poverty. And now this flashy looking tourist (me), in his shorts, has come here and orders us to go over to him. I don’t blame him at all.

I left the spring and the spot I had found earlier. I decided to look for some other place somewhere else. I rode for another 5 km until I arrived in Arbab Kandy, a small village by the road. I stopped to buy water and then leave the village to find a place. I asked the owner of the shop I bought water from where I could pitch up my tent and stay for the night, he told me there was nothing after this village, only dry land. He said that I could camp in front of his shop. It was a terrible place to camp, but I had no choice—I was too tired to go on and it was already 7. 

I stayed there, talked to the people who were there having tea and smoking hookah. It was fun. Then I set up my camp, washed myself, and wanted to cook pasta. As I turned on my stove, the owner of the shop came to me and asked what I had for dinner. I told him that I was going to have pasta like many other nights. He asked me to turn off my stove. He was going to bring dinner for me—the same kind of food, Macaroni, but homemade. I wanted to pass the offer, but he was really firm, and asked me to turn off the stove immediately. 

The Owner of the Cafe

Dinner, not exactly pasta but close

The cafe's owner and his son

They also had a baker

 

I had a tea and after a few minutes, the owner came to me with the food. It was much more delicious than my pasta I was going to make. After dinner I prepared to sleep.

From Barcelona to Tehran: Day 62

Day 62: From Jolfa to Dozal in Iran 

July 1, 2012; Distance covered today: 72 Km; Total: 4963 Km

I have lost the time. My watch is still in Turkey’s time, so I don’t exactly know when I left the park. I went to Jolfa, bought some groceries, and made a couple of phone calls. The way was still very beautiful. The mountains were stunning and the weather was fine, but the wind was still there—very strong. 

The road, the river, and the sky--all awesome

I stopped at a village and had some bread with a bucket of yoghurt when a guy, who was actually from Tehran, told me that the best place to spend the night was a village called, Dozal. 

I cannot ask for more.

I kept riding and at about 6, I arrived in Dozal. I went to a mosque (emamzadeh) and pitched up my tent on the terrace overlooking the village. In the evening, two officers came and ask me many questions about me and my trip. I was a little nervous, but kept my cool and even cracked some jokes with them. They wrote down everything I said. When I asked them what was the questioning for, they ignored my question. 

Gold miners--seriously!

Beautiful mountains

My spot in the mosque overlooking the village

The village and sunset

At night, I watched the World Cup final with the superintendent of the place. I didn’t watch it to the end since it was obvious Italy was losing.  

From Barcelona to Tehran: Day 61

Day 61: A Tough Day with a Good Finish; From Makoo to Jolfa in Iran 

June 30, 2012; Distance covered today: 138 Km; Total: 4891 Km

I could not sleep well last night: the hotel was dirty, hot, noisy, and there were mosquitoes. In the middle of night, after tossing and turning for a long time, I put on some mosquito spray and my ear plugs. Only then I could get some sleep. 

He dropped out of school for poverty--so sad

I woke up at 5:30, packed everything, and left the hotel. Before I left the town, I managed to find a map of Azerbaijan. The weather was nice, and I got to Poldasht, the first town by the Aras river. I bought a Barbary (An Azeri kind of bread), and had it with some cream. As I was biking on a lonely farm road, I saw a big motorbike coming form the opposite direction. I and the motorbike rider stopped to have a chat. He was an Austrian traveling by bike. We talked and exchanged stories for about half an hour in the sun. We had a lot to say, but we had to get going. 

From central Asia through Iran to Austria

The weather couldn’t have been better. I kept riding and riding until the mountains began. And there started the wind. It was really strong head wind. The road was getting ridiculously steep at times so much so that I had to walk my bike. 

It was getting a little boring to be on a road like this most of the day!

At about 6 o’clock, I saw a road sign for an old Church, Nane Maryam Church. The road to the church was really steep. I knew there was no way I could ride the bike there, but I wanted to go there to see if it was possible to camp there. It was really torturous to walk my bike up there. I was sweating so much. Every ten meters or so I had to stop to catch my breath. Very close to the end, there were a few families sitting by their cars and having tea or watermelon. They just kept watching me. I thought they would say a kind of greeting or invite me to have tea or a bite of watermelon, but not even one person spelled out a word. There was a water tap there. I put my head under the water and enjoyed the flow of cold water on my sweating head.

These cab drivers were so much into politics. We had an interesting discussion! Mostly about sanctions.

I parked the bike there, took my camera, and went to the entrance of the church. I walked up the pathway, and as I wanted to get into the church, an old man stopped me and said that I could not get in wearing biking sorts. I had completely forgotten that I should have been more conservative when I am in public places. I got disappointed and humiliated. Then I went down, got on the bike, and left the historic church. At the bottom of the steep road to the church, I stopped to take a photo to remember the fact that I was denied access to the church because of my biking shorts. 

The Aras and the road to Jolfa

A guy, who was the security of that road saw me taking pictures and said in Persian, “You cannot go there in ‘Bekini’. There are women and children there. Iran is an Islamic country.” I was not upset about not seeing the church. I was really angry at the guy’s tone, and choice of words. If you know Persian, you must have guessed what he said, (short o korsette).  I just told the guy, “Have a nice time in this Islamic country”. 

The park I camped in and watched spectacular lightening show

It was getting late. The sky was full of ominous clouds as well. I could hear Thunder claps and lightening. I kept riding until I got to Park e Koohestani, where there were some designated areas for pitching up your tent. 

After washing myself and my clothes, I sat and watched spectacular lightening show.

From Barcelona to Tehran: Day 58

Day 58: On the Road Again—Alone; From Erzurum to Aktas in Turkey

June 27, 2012; Distance covered today: 113 Km; Total: 4524 Km

We woke up at 5:30, packed up and left the hotel. We had Shorba and hit the road at 8 am. As soon as we went out of the city, we started riding downhill, and after a while, downhill gave way to a flat road. After about 2 hours of riding, we heard some farmers shouted, “Chai, Chai”. We couldn’t resist it, so we stopped and had some really good tea. We had a long chat with the farmers, and listened to their life stories. The farmers, two brothers, had lost their father when they were very young, so they had to work to support their mother and sisters.  Now, they work only two month a year, and the rest of the year? There is nothing to do. There is no job. What’s worse, it snows so much that they would be stuck with nowhere to go or no possibility of farming . They said that they barely make ends meet. They would work more if there was something to do. 

Drinking tea with friendly farmers

We soon arrived in Horassan where we went to an Internet Café to check whether Iranianvisa agency had responded to Fausto’s application. There was a positive tentative acceptance, so Fausto had to send eighty Euros to the agency. 

An old bridge on our way

To send the money, we went to the only bank in the town and tried everything we could. We had a couple of options to make the payment, but the one that Fausto could do in that situation was through Western Union. We had a hard time making the bank clerks understood what we needed to do. Then the problem was that this branch could not put Euro in any accounts. The staffs tried really hard to find a way, but at the end, they said that they were sorry. Fausto had to go to Erzurum to wire the money.

The staffs in the bank tried hard to help us out

It was 3 o’clock already and Fausto had to double back to Erzurum, 85 Km. So I suggested him to go by minibus. He agreed. 

We hung out for 20 minutes or so before we said goodbye and I departed. We had a lot of hope that we would be riding together again soon, so departing was somehow easy. 

Saying Goodbye to Fausto

I was on the road by myself again. I kept riding toward Iran. I couldn’t believe that there was only one town left to Iran, only one. 

For some time, the road turned into a real mess—lots of potholes and almost no road. I kept riding for 40 km or so when it started to pour down. I then took a side road toward a village where I saw a man inside a house looking at me through the window. I parked the bike in front of the house and went to him and said that I wanted to pitch up my tent there in the village. He warmly accepted and pointed at a spot in front of his house. It was still pouring down. He invited me into his house, but I didn’t accept it. There were some children in front of the house. I talked to them and asked them questions about their schools and what not. Then the guy invited me in again. I accepted and went in. They brought me tea and we talked for about an hour. I then took some pictures and promised them to send a copy to them.

Friendly people in the village

My camp spot in the village

I pitched up my tent in the village with lots of people watching me. A couple of guys invited me into their house to spend the night in. one guy asked me if I needed a duvet. Others asked if I needed bread, cheese, etc. It felt great to be among these hospitable people. Of course I had everything I needed--pasta, so I assured them that I didn’t need anything. 

The happy kids in the village

Seeing me off in the morning

From Barcelona to Tehran: Day 57

Day 57: Stuck in Erzurum

June 26, 2012; Distance covered today: 0 Km; Total: 4411 Km

For the first time after a long time on this trip, I woke up rather late, at 7:30. I then talked to Hamid, my buddy in Tehran, to see if there was a chance to get a visa for Fausto. To make the long story short, there is none. The rule: “No foreigner could enter Iran with a personal vehicle, and if they do, they should be accompanied by an agent from the government all the time. Besides, they can only visit big cities”. How stupid!

Make no mistake! They are not gay. Friends, boys and girls, father and son, etc. walk like this.

I found this gym in the basement of a sports store. I had a chance to flex my fingers.

Patching Fausto's Pants

There was only one more avenue to venture: applying through www.Iranianvisa.com (Caution! The Website turned out to be phony. You will be reading about how the agency ripped off  Fausto and didn’t reply his emails after getting his money). Fausto filled out a form online. He then decided to go to Georgia and Azerbaijan instead of to Iran. So, he could ride with me tomorrow, and then we should depart. He would go toward Georgia, and I toward Iran. 

Then we went out to do some shopping. Fausto needed tent pins. His were so soft that they would bend so easily. We checked a couple of shops, but there was no way we could find them in Erzurum. As we were hopelessly walking from one shop to another, I saw a bicycle shop. I went in to see if they had a kickstand. They didn’t. As I was going out, I asked the guy where I could get tent pins. He looked at the pins and showed us some metal bars which actually were parts of old bike mudguards. He was trying to convince us that they would be strong and serve the purpose. We thought that he was trying to rip us off. We wanted to leave, but he said that he would not charge us for making them. We asked why, and he said that he wanted to help us out. We decided to give it a try. He cut the metals, hammered the points to make them a little sharp, and bent the tops. Fausto was amazed and wanted to pay the guy, but he wouldn’t accept money. Then he agreed to take a picture with us. What a nice gesture!

Helping Fausto out for free!

After eating dinner we went to the hotel and relaxed until we went to bed.

From Barcelona to Tehran

From Kapodokya to Erzurum in Turkey