Tag Archives: forest

Day 290 – Princes of the Caspian Sea

the mountain wearing a veil

the mountain wearing a veil

We were lucky: Despite the thunderstorm at night, our tents were dry by the time we got up. Again, we could hear the wolves howl at night but Flo said they must have gotten into a fight with the dogs as he heard some serious fighting noises. I am just thankful for my earplugs otherwise I might have lost A LOT of sleep…

Joris was all packed up by the time one single cloud dribbled rain drops on us but our tent was still standing. It wasn’t too bad though; we narrowly escaped the really bad weather. For now, the sun returned and we followed a road around the mountain for another 20km before getting back onto the main road.

Stop time is photo time!

Stop time is photo time!

Leaving our camping spot, we had to wait for a flock of sheep to get off the road which made for quite the picturesque scene.

Mountain roads in Iran are lovely but as soon as we got back onto the main road the traffic became horrific. Not dangerous or crazy just pulling-your-hair-out-in-despair congested. It was one single line of cars crawling up and down through the valleys with no end in sight. Since it was Thursday, I wondered if all these cars belong to Tehranis who escape to the Caspian Sea for the weekend. The riding wasn’t fun even if we made way better progress than any car as Joris and Flo were overtaking left and right. Behind us, dark, stormy clouds were gathering and thunder rolled over the valleys. Somehow, we managed to skirt the rain only ever getting slightly wet. So we kept going and going and going through bad traffic and chased by bad weather.

Time to say goodbye

Time to say goodbye

Finally, we arrived in Muhammedin, the city where our paths would separate again. Flo sorted out the data code for his mobile phone so that we have mobile internet again and while waiting, Joris found a bakery where he bought lunch and we got doughnuts as snacks for the beach. Thus, a Transalp and an Africa Twin arrived at the shore of the Caspian Sea.

The Caspian Sea…the Lonely Planet already warns travellers that it is not pretty. Polluted by every country that borders it, an algae grows rapidly in it and it is close to extinction of the fish (and thus caviar) population. The reason why it is a popular spot for Iranis is because of all the lovely rain the shore gets; a fascination no European will ever share. With our treasures from the bakery, we sat down in a shoreside pavilion for a shared lunch. Then, it was time to say good bye. It was the first time we travelled together with a fellow overlander for a bit and we liked the experience. Plus, Joris is probably the most laid back traveller possible. 🙂 Looking forward to meeting up again at some point in Europe but for now: Safe travels, Joris!

Back on our own, we continued along the Caspian Sea. It is not pretty. Most of the time, the sea is completely hidden by the 1970s hotel complexes in rather poor repair. Between the hotels, you find all sorts of shops for brands like Levi’s or Hilfiger and we were not sure if those are copies or the real thing. After a while and some desperate searching we ended up at “KFC” for lunch. As one might expect, it was overpriced and not good. Continuing on our way, it drizzled on and off and the grey sky made us both really tired. However, we couldn’t find a hotel that looked inviting so we decided to try and camp. Since we had descended to the Caspian Sea, forests were the main feature of the landscape. With so many trees to hide behind, camping shouldn’t be a problem. We stocked up on food and started looking. Shouldn’t yes, but it was a problem; suddenly the density of population was overwhelming. Behind every hill was a village and on every slope was a house. After three serious tries with getting off the main road and trying to get into the no-mans-land, we gave up. By now, Masuleh was only 70km away. Masuleh is an ancient mountainside village that is known for its houses; it is so steep that the roofs of one row of houses work as footpaths for the next row up. Getting there would be a real push but camping was impossible here and we didn’t want to stay in a probably overpriced ugly hotel.

almost there, only 35 km to go

almost there, only 35 km to go

Once we left the city of Rasht behind us (which was annoying in the evening rush hour) and started to get into the mountains again, we both felt better. It was pretty here and we could probably find a camping spot if we had to. A lot of people were around, most of them having a picnic and all the restaurants had colourful light outside.

It didn’t get any emptier on the way up to Masuleh. First, we passed a “toll booth” which luckily, we didn’t have to pay, then we came across many tour buses all parked below the village. But the locals kept waving us on, further up into the village. Here, colourful decorations were put up in every street…so many indeed that I started to wonder if there was a festival going on. In one of the turns to go further up, a local stopped us and asked which hotel we wanted to go to. Hearing that we didn’t have a room yet, he got all business-like and dragged Flo off to show rooms and negotiate prices. I was quite happy guarding the bike as I was super tired by this point but people kept coming up to take pictures with me or have a chat. Just when Flo came back, I was standing in front of the bike with a baby on one arm and a little kid standing next to me. Unfortunately, WE don’t have the picture.

Got settled in just as the sun had set

Got settled in just as the sun had set

Flo found a beautiful room with a balcony and a view of the village for 1 million rial. That is on the pricey side but by far not the most we have paid for rooms here. So I just said that we take it and we dumped all our things in it. It turned out that somehow we had rented the whole house as the owner gave us the key and told us to lock it when we go out and also at night.

It was just getting dark and also just started to rain so we put on our rain gear (first time for the hoods, yay!) to explore the village. It might be a village that lives off tourism and it might also be not authentic anymore but at night with all the lights on, it was a magical place. It felt a lot like wandering through a Christmas market. Everything looked pretty and inviting, bathed in light. After exploring multiple levels of the village, we sat down in a tea house to have a wonderful cup (or three) of hot tea with rock sugar. The perfect ending for a looooooooooooong day.

Day 102 – Mehs and Yays

Google is wrong! Well, maybe not in general, but regarding the geolocation of Dalam Loka, a historic sultan’s palace.

Build in the 19th century for the Sultan in Sumbawa

Build in the 19th century for the Sultan in Sumbawa

But in order: We managed to do as we set out to and pack up early enough to get on the road before the heat is too unbearable. Nina wanted to see the weaving of traditional cloth, called ikat by the lonely planet, first hand. We have seen woman dying cloth and weaving in mountain villages on Flores, but did not stop to take photos or have a chat. Going into more and more developed parts of Indonesia, this felt like one of the last good chances to do so. But alas, the geolocation demons struck again. The directions in the lonely planet were sketchy at best, the open street maps has the village mentioned in the wrong place and it was Friday early morning in an Islamic part of the country. We did not even find the right village in the end, but the round trip on beautiful back roads through lush green rice paddies was worth it none the less.

With that first failure under our belt, we decided to give the sultan’s palace a go. Google said it is 20 km south in the mountains. It was also a point of interest on the OSM map, so we let the GPS guide the way. Turned out we ended up back in Sumbawa Besar after all – within walking distance of our hotel …

The palace was a nice photo-op but not much more, and we decided that it was time to head east for good. When we came upon the fork in the road, leading either south to some more Sumbawa surfer beaches or east to the ferry to Lombok, the discussion was a short one. Although we met amazing people, we never really warmed to Sumbawa and we went towards the ferry. We are here to enjoy ourselves after all.

nice place for a ferry port ...

nice place for a ferry port …

The ferry was quick, painless and reasonably cheap. The sea was roughest of all ferry rides so far though and poor Rocinante got a good spray of salt water on the way. Well, at least it was quick this time.

On Lombok, the route was pretty clear: North, up the mountain where it is nice and cool. And green, oh such sweet green. I can honestly say, I am over savannahs. Too dry, too hot. And gosh, Lombok delivered. Lush, green rainforest enveloping the beautiful, winding road. Vistas, monkeys. Our spirits sored. Nina got fresh strawberries in a mountain valley!  Although, we got more than a little homesick for New Zealand at this point.

The accommodation was good, much better than what we got for that price so far, and the climate really suited us. We booked a guide for tomorrow for a half day track through the surroundings and two waterfalls nearby, since Gundung Rinjani (the big volcano on Lombok) was still closed for all climbers due to its recent activity.