snow | Chaos roaming the world

Last bit of road in Iran

Writing the blog post from two days ago in the morning, with the thoughts on returning home at the end, left us in a bit of a low mood after breakfast. Thus, packing took extra long this morning. Not a big deal, though. We had only 130 km to go to the border.

Near lunch time we hit the border town of Maku. We filled up one last time with the obscenely cheap fuel and sat down along the main road through that narrow valley for lunch. It is always good to tackle a border with all primary functions tended to. Just as we were doing some last minutes preparations (I forgot to take proof of my German bike insurance which is valid and required in Turkey) Iran decided to give us a very Iranian parting gift. A guy jumped out of a taxi, shoved a melon and some bananas into my unsuspecting hands and jumped back into the taxi with a “welcome to Iran!”. Now we had bananas and a melon to declare as well – and another amazing memory of Irani hospitality.

Random gift of bananas and a honey melon. A melon?!?

We reached the border shortly thereafter. By the looks of it, it is only ever used by thousands of trucks or pedestrians. There is a lane for passenger vehicle crossing, but all booths are abandoned and no one was to be seen. It was relatively easy after all. Dodge the hawkers, find an official and then get led to the equivalent desk in the pedestrian terminal through back doors. Maybe 45 minutes later we stood in front of the two gates that separate Iran from Turkey with all the required stamps. Iran opened its gate for us and we called over to the Turkish guys …

… and waited. A long while. The Turkish border guards who saw us after one minute played manly man games with the Iranians and us. They left us hanging for about 20 minutes before pushing the the button that would open the gate. What a great start. Smile and wave …

Note the line of truck starting at least 6km before the actual border

We had to work around a similar way on the Turkish side. Passport immigration police guy was only available in the passenger terminal, so through some more back doors we went and met Mr. Grumpy Number two. I will never understand why some guys feel the need to underline their authority with outward rudeness. It did not get better when he saw our German passports. “Deutsche? …” sneer … then he only stamped one passport and got really annoyed when I remarked that I would like to get an entry stamp, too. Smile and wave …

Great light and dark due to the rain clouds

Luckily customs guy did not know what to do, really, so our workaround regarding the insurance remained untested. I helped him with the carnet and off we went, into thick storm clouds on the horizon. We put our full rain gear on, ducked down and headed into the Kurdish town of Doĝubayazit. This grey border town had nothing to offer, neither phone shop nor ATM in sight, so we pushed on northwards along the border.

Our first sight in Turkey was the former Armenian capital of Ani. To get there, all roads lead through Kars, the regional center. En route there, I felt the strong need to answer nature’s call and we stopped on the first pass. Right then a van pulled over and four soldier type guys came out. One was a sergeant and had this way about asking what we were up to that showed suspicion hidden behind mere curiosity. We moved along.

The world appeared to end at the horizon so I, wisely, packed the camera away

The rain started for real beyond the pass, with lightning and thunder hitting left and right. It was cold, too, and just kept on getting colder as we got closer to Kars. The last pass went over 2300m, we were soaked and shivering by this point. Looking around there were still patches of snow on the ground…no wonder it was cold! We had done another 200 km on the Turkish side by then and stopped at a petrol station maybe 5km before the longed after hotel. The guys there took pity on us and shouted us a hot çay (tea). That got us the rest of the way through freezing rain without frostbite.

The hotel was cheap, which was the best to say about it, really. To make up for it, we went out that night to a really nice restaurant. What a treat – tablecloth, fresh bread and really good not-kebab food. Just what we needed to get the spirits back up again!

: Last bit of road in Iran

: Arriving in Maku, the town before the border

: Random gift of bananas and a honey melon. A melon?!?

: The smaller peak of Mt Ararat seen from the Iranian side

: Note the line of truck starting at least 6km before the actual border

: Looking back towards the border post. So glad to be through!

: The smaller cone of Ararat seen from the Turkish side

: The whole Mt Ararat in the distance

: The road led through a vast landscape of nothingness

: Great light and dark due to the rain clouds

: Glimpses of the river canyons from the road

: The world appeared to end at the horizon so I, wisely, packed the camera away

: Going out for really good food: Vegetarian plate with grilled seasonal veggies and chicken in special sauce for Flo

The mosque from the outside

Three nights in Esfahan seemed enough. But as Flo wrote, we kept missing the mosque that made it to the cover of the Lonely Planet. After breakfast, after packing everything, this was our last stop: Masjed-e Sheikh Lotfollah.

This mosque considerably smaller than the other two that we visited. It was thus a nice stop before leaving the city. Through the blue entrance, you come to a small tunnel which leads into the domed chamber of the mosque. The tunnel is necessary to ensure the orientation towards Mecca but it very subtly done. You mostly realize it because the guide book tells you that’s what’s happening. 🙂

Part of the whole thing

The chamber itself is beautiful with tiles in the lower wall section and then real mosaic for the inscription. Unfortunately, by now we are mosque-d out and didn’t stay long even though we enjoyed it. It is also possible to see the vaults underneath so we went. All the walls are clinically white and a single stall sells tiny wooden versions of the mosque…

For a good bye wave, we crossed two of the bridges that cross the river in Esfahan and rode off towards Zagros Mountains. The Lonely Planet describes the stretch between Chelgerd and Yasuj as “spectacular but without tourist infrastructure”. Doesn’t that sound exactly like our cup of tea? Since we only left Esfahan around noon, we wouldn’t make it all the way today anyway. Instead, we had a picnic lunch under trees and prepared for the height and coldness of the mountains. Well, Flo did. He put on the water- and windproof layer at lunch time. I was still feeling fine mostly because Flo acts as my wind blocker.

Snow-covered mountain view framed by trees…how very picturesque!

The Mountains. We reached a cruising height of about 2200 meters. The ranges in the distance were still higher and completely snow-capped. Snow…a sight we haven’t had in a while. With a cloud cover, wind and the height, it was now c.o.l.d. I didn’t want us to stop just so I could put on a jacket…so we had a tea break instead. 🙂 Hot drinks were amazing on such a day and got us into the right spirit to delve deeper into the world of mountains. We bought everything for dinner and headed out with the intention of camping somewhere along the way.

Sharing the road…

Which is exactly what we did. Enjoying the ride with little traffic, sharing the road mostly with shepherds and sheep, we continued. Evidence of nomadic life can be seen everywhere here. Tents, shelters built of branches and the occasional brick house can be seen on the slopes of the mountains while small herds of sheep are being moved constantly. Most shepherds have dogs to help them keep the sheep in line while some also ride donkeys. While the donkeys are universally cute and fluffy (not to speak of the loads they carry), shepherd’s dogs are a bit more worrying. Most of them seem to really dislike the sound Rocinante makes and their sense of protection kicks in. Once or twice a dog chased after us.

All set up with a gorgeous backdrop

When we had enough for the day, we followed a dirt track up into the hills. It turned out to be a service and access road to an irrigation channel. Making sure we didn’t block anything and didn’t end up pitching our tent in a field, we found a spot that was perfect. Out of the way, level and mostly private. Once we had set up camp, a lone fellow visited us on a motorbike. He seemed to belong to the house/farm further down but we couldn’t really communicate. I think he invited us to stay at the house but I’m not sure. Also, with the tent now up that would have been just more trouble than it’s worth. He came back twice in the evening; once to warn us that the sprinklers would now be turned on (which didn’t affect us) and the last time…we’re not sure but he left wishing us a good night. That is one phrase that I know even if I cannot say it; Azemeh and the girls tried really hard to teach me.