25th September Erzurum, Turkey to Marand, Iran

I am writing this entry 3 days after the fact. Thus my recollections are already fading. 3 days when you have ridden 1000 miles is a very, very long time. It is a certain truth that time is relative.

I should say that today, the 27^th has ended well and I hope my account of the 25^th isn’t in any way tinted by my feelings at this time.

I left Erzurum with blues skies overhead. I was anxious, knowing that I was crossing into Iran. Anxious at 2 levels; Firstly, major border crossings like Turkey to Iran are a complicated maze of bureaucracy, where in reality you to some degree must surrender yourself to events, otherwise you will collapse in upon yourself. Secondly, I was entering Iran the unknown.

The landscape heading towards Iran (through an area the Kurds call Kurdistan) is spectacular.  Steep sided gorges, high mountain passes, the highest I crossed was 7500 feet. The road is great biker terrain, sweeping corners, absorbing and distracting.

As I got closer to the border I could sense growing poverty. At one point 3 lads maybe 16 years old tried to stop me. The largest was carrying a big stick. I didn’t stop…. He hurled the stick at me.  He looked stoned on glue. The stick missed by a mile. Minutes later a young boy waved a knife at me.

Nearing the border I passed very close to Mount Ararat. If you look closely you can still see Noak's Ark just below the snowline.

Finally I arrived at the border. Initially your exit is processed by the Turk authorities. 3 stages… Exit passport stamp, Customs clearance, Police check. You are not guided in any way, there is no signage, you are accosted by tenacious, wily money changers who somehow find themselves operating freely in no mans land! In the instance of my crossing the customers officer had done one! This gave me no option but to sit down outside the cabin of the exit stamp police. My unusual and dignified approach caught their attention! A police office called Fatih came up to say hello and asked my name. He asked if I’d like a cup of tea. This offer was in the context of fevered crowds of other travellers… Turks and Iranians milling around. I had tea with 3 young Turks. Lovely guys, all posted to the Iranian border from distant home towns.

Finally I got all the signatures and stamps needed and then moved on to the Iranian entry authorities. Passport and visa check, entry stamp. Fairly painless and hassle free. Next vehicle documentation and Carnet check. A man with no uniform takes your Carnet document and passport and disappears! The carnet is worth £1000’s …. This is nerve racking, I have no idea whether he was an official or a chancer who took 30 Euro’s from me!? My Carnet and passport were returned to me.

As I was waiting for the return of my documents a guy came up to say hello. His name was Peji. He spoke good English. He gave me his phone number and said if I needed any help to call.

I was then in Iran. This is what the UK Government Foreign and Commonwealth office have to say about Iran:

Iran
Still current at: 05 November 2012 Updated: 20 September 2012

No restrictions in this travel advice

Avoid all but essential travel to part(s) of country

Avoid all but essential travel to whole country

Avoid all travel to part(s) of country

Avoid all travel to whole country

This advice has been reviewed and reissued with amendments to the Travel Summary (demonstrations). The overall level of the advice has not changed. We advise against all travel to Iran.

The border formalities had taken 2 or more hours. I felt stunned and without bearings. I decided Iranian Rials might be a good starting point. I changed some money…  I have no idea whether this was official or not. The guy gave me rates in excess of those quoted on Xrates.com.... It later transpired he could have been more generous still. 

I found a petrol station and filled up. In Iran petrol is cheap (CHEAP!) 25p a litre cheap.

I bumped into Peji again. I met his friend and father. They were poultry farmers from Tehran and I would judge successful business men. I followed them out of town and slowly into Iran. After some time they stopped and bought me dinner, a realy delicious dinner. They were returning from Georgia. Peji was 23 years old and had already covered much of the globe. His familiy’s passion was travel (I think this is probably very unusual, because travel is expensive for Iranians) They were very kind to me.

We travelled in convoy and then in the darkness I lost them. Iran at night on dark roads is frightening. I eventually found my way into Marand. I showed a guy the note Peji had written in Persian for me. He gestured for me to follow him in his car. We drove for miles and I became very concerned. I stopped and asked someone else… the reality was we were a very short distance from the hotel, I had nothing to fear. The hotel was basic, but none the less offered a bed and shower.

I locked the door, left the key in the lock and shut out dark thoughts and foreboding.

Oh….. the speeding ticket! It never got paid. I will be persona non grata in Turkey. Next time I enter the country words will be spoken I am sure

Marand Mileometer 20878