6^th October Nokkundi, Pakistan To Dalbandiin, Pakistan

Jeroen’s bike needs jump starting off the Levies Pickup. A new battery has been strapped to the side of the bike. It doesn’t appear to being doing much. If Jeroen stalls or puts his sidestand down in 1st we need another jump start.

We make slow progress from checkpoint to checkpoint. The scenery is amazing. Some of the roads have a covering of fine sand, sand that is invisible until a vehicle passes over. When wheels roll over….  the sand then rises up and shimmys over the road surface. Dust devils roll across the landscape. Sometimes they cross our path… they carry leaves, paper and plastic bags.

Jeroen’s bike is now overheating.  This is a double whammy. He can’t turn the bike off at checkpoints because it won’t re-start, as a result it gets very hot!

Balochistan petrol station

We reach Dalbandin and are escorted into a Levies compound. We see another occupied jail cell…. A large painted, Pakistani truck fills some of the space inside the compound… we notice a massive gash along the underside of the truck. We imagine it has been involved in an accident. The Levies tell us that the truck has been cut open by their staff, it had been carrying 100’s of kilograms of opium in the fuel tanks and in a false floor.

We realise that we are going no further and check into Dawood  Hotel, London Road, Dalbandin. Our moods are elevated considerably by the fact that we can have a beer and that there is wifi.

I go out shopping for a sim card and to change some money. Levies guards accompany us, AK 47’s over their shoulders. Whilst at a chemist changing money…. Yes unusual…. One of the guards slaps a man around the face. It’s not clear what’s going on but it makes for an uneasy atmosphere.
The chemist money changer was a smiling assassin…..I negotiated a rate… a very poor rate at that, then when he used that rate to calculate the number of rupees I would get he rounded the amount down. I corrected him. He then counted the money out and it was short by 200 Rs, I corrected him. He then ordered us a couple of bottles of 7Up. I have a feeling this I how business is done here.

After buying a Pakistan sim card… we head back to the hotel.  The guys have ordered in a Petrol take away. A pickup arrives with a 50 gallon drum. 10 litre jugs are served to our bikes via a funnel with a cloth filter.

We have a few Pakistani beers. “Murree” beer is brewed in Pakistan for consumption by foreigners only. We order both 5% and 8% strengths. A nice evening that the Austrian lads finished off (I discovered the following morning) by smoking ganja with the hotel staff. I disapproved!

 

5^th October, Mirjaveh, Iran to Nokkundi, Pakistan

We breakfasted and are ready for our escort to the border. Of course the escort is late. We reach the border to be met by long, long queues of trucks. We zig and zag our way to the first checkpoint…. Iranian, customs clearance. We get our carnets stamped and onward. I ride on ahead and find massive crowds of people waiting for their Iranian exit stamp. I meet an old Iranian guy who appears to deal with customers relations for international tourists. He takes us through the passport control building shortcutting the assembled masses. They must have hated us…….

Pakistan! We have our passports stamped with entry stamps and then proceed to customs. The first office is efficient and friendly. The staff gather information and write it down using pen and paper. The head officers tells us he won’t bother searching our bikes.  We go to another office inside a compound wall. Cars seized by the customs officers have been placed upon the roof….. presumably as a warning! Suddenly we are directed to look at the jail cells, that had otherwise gone unoticed… Illegal migrants rush forward from the shadows, they look lifeless and crushed. One asks me if I am a Nato Soldier… because of the Camo trousers I guess. Don’t get caught passing across the border between Iran and Pakistan… the consquences are grimy and hellish.

Our last border control office processes our Carnet documents. The guy handling the task is nervous and agitated. He works at a snail’s pace and something that otherwise should have taken minutes ends up taking 2 ½ hours. Welcome to Taftan, Pakistan. As we enter Pakistani Balochistan, the sun is already plummeting. We are picked up by our first escort. West Pakistan is even more barren than Iran. There are small villages of mud brick houses. Single storey, single room dwellings that blend in colour and hue with their surroundings.

It quickly becomes apparent that we will make little progress before nightfall.  As the last rays of the days sun fall to earth we are escorted into the village of Nokkundi. This village is simple beyond belief. Our destination is an old desert fort. The Pakistan security force in Balochistan are called the “Levies”.  Our Levies guards lock us inside an old clay building with towers to each corner. This is to be our resting place for the night. A large wooden pole, rammed into the earth, is used to secure the main gate, large boulders are rolled against other doors. 

Nokkundi Desert Fortress (Our resting place)

Jeroen’s bike is making a disturbing siren like noise. We are unable to work out what is wrong. He disconnects the battery and we discover the noise is coming from the battery. The battery is incredibly hot, swollen and near to exploding.

My cell, great view....

My bed ??!!??

Portrait of a Levies guard

I and Martin head into the bazaar of the village in the back of the Levies pickup. The bazaar is ancient. Donkey carts plough back and forth, barefoot, dusty children scatter about. We buy Tuc biscuits, crisps, coke and water. The village is largely unlit, in parts pitch black and intimidating.

We arrive back at the fort and eat whilst watch episodes of “The long way round” on an Ipad. The Levies are fascinated by scenes from Africa, particularly of tribal women dancing. We are told to quieten things down by 9.30. I spend the night in a jail cell, I have no sleeping bag, no mattress, just a stained quilt that the cells previous occupant has used…

An entertaining night, good camaraderie, travel close to edge.

Nokkundi mileometer 22449 (less than 90 miles covered today)

4^th October Bam, Iran to Mirjaveh Iran

We left early enough… but there were already police outside the guesthouse. They escorted us to the highway….. and couldn’t keep up. 20 miles into the journey Richi discovered he had left his mobile behind. Jerone and Stephen went on, I and Martin waited whilst Richi did the round trip to collect his phone. Phone collected we were on our way again.

The deserts that we pass through become bigger and bigger. Nothing prepares for the vast emptiness of the deserts. Sporadically strong winds collect themselves from nowhere and everywhere. They change direction without discussion.

We pass watchtowers built from mud brick. Some are pockmarked with bullet holes. The area approaching the Pakistan border is well known as a drug caravan route. Opium produced in Afghanistan passes across the lengthy and prorous border with Pakistan and Iran, Europe bound. This area is almost a no mans land. There are almost no signs of life, just a strip of tarmac stretching in desert haze and mirage.

We pass more disturbing sights. A burnt out bus by the roadside… .. it looked very much as if it had been blown up…. In the middle of a gorge on a steep and winding road from which escape was impossible

We are finally stopped by a checkpost and escorted. At the next checkpost we meet up with Jeroene and Stephen. Their escort had been a powerful  Hilux pickup. At times they had ridden at 100mph.

We travel on with a Hilux crewed 2 guys with Kalashnikovs and another guy manning a machine gun mounted to the rear of the truck. We roll into Zahedan around 12. We need fuel but surprisingly the Iranian police are unable to persuade the petrol station to give us fuel. There is no dispensing card available… !!??

We move on and into the police barracks. An armed compound with young cops larking around inside. They offer us food which we gladly eat. Speed is our priority but not theirs.

We leave after an hour or so to get fuel. We arrive at a major roundabout and are dropped outside a UPVC cabin containing a single older cop. We sit on kerbstones to the rear of the cabin. There is an intense stench of shit and piss. This provokes Jeroene into a rant about “Poo flinging” and a vebal assault upon the cabin officer. After much much time we are collected by a Hilux to be escorted to the other side of the roundabout (at least 50 metres) to where we buy petrol on the black market from guys with plastic Jerry cans. The Police are anxious and manhandle a guy who sits down next to me. There urge us swiftly onward to the city limits.

We stop at another checkpoint. We are a massive spectacle. 5 shabby European bikers perched on the steps of their mobile office. It is rush hour, 1000’s of vehicles are passing within metres of us … we understand that we are vulnerable. There is further larking around. The escorts hold our passports so we are unable to ride away into the distance. I grab the passports and run off ….. luckily the cops have a sense of humour.

We are escorted to another stop a further 10 miles down the road. It is getting dark. We are now being escorted by a single cop… no guns. He attempts to flag down passing cars as we refuse to allow him to ride pillion on our bikes. I feel sorry for the guy, In desolate territory with unappreciative guests, the sun having now set this must have been less than rewarding and positively humiliating. A carpenter in a pickup finally offers a ride and we are on the way. The next Checkpoint is maybe 20 miles down the road. We are sat in pitch black next to a fuel  dump. Hundreds of jerry cans of diesel piled up a few feet away from us. Finally we get our last escort to Mirjaveh, the cops manages to flag down a minibus. We check in at the government guest house, slightly frustrated, very tired. I have sore eyes from following the minibus… fumes and dust

Mirjaveh Mileometer 22364

 

 

 

3^rd October Bam, Iran

A day of waiting.

I spent the day roaming around the city. I visited the ancient ruins of the old city. The old city was considered to be one of the greatest architectural marvels of the ancient world. The world’s largest mud and clay city. The old city had been abandoned centuries ago after a war so savage and barbaric that the inhabitants were unable to bring themselves to return. The old city was pulverised by the earthquake….. It is now being restored, nobody will ever live there but the place is remarkable. With a footprint of 1km * 1km, 15 metre high walls with a huge citadel rising from the middle of the city.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Austrian lads returned; 1 became3. An hour or so later another biker pitched up… Jerome a Dutch guy, resident in Dubai. Another few hours later his mate Stephen from Scotland arrived; 3 became 5.

Stephen is travelling from Perth Scotland to Perth Austrailiia on a Triumph Tiger 1050. He has already covered 12000km.

We agreed to travel onto the Iranian border together. I decided to ride out of the city to buy Benzene Super (Best quality Petrol available in Iran) I got to the station 15km from the guest house to discover they had none. I filled up on regular Benzene….. which is ropey. I headed back to Bam and unknowingly took a wrong turn…. I hit a roundabout that seemed familiar and followed a mental map. I should have realised I was in the wrong place as soon as ended up on dirt trails.

The police found me and held onto me. It was clear they were going to organise an escort to the guesthouse. In the meantime one of the cops sat on my bike and rode off (uninvited…) What can you do when 2 guys with a Kalashnikov and handguns take a fancy to you bike. ….. I wasn’t very impressed  or comfortable with this. They cops then started escorting me…. It felt all wrong so I stopped dead. They reveresd back to me…. There was some shouting and then it dawned on me that I might not even be in the city of Bam… which in fact I wasn’t. I had exited the highway a town before Bam…….

That night we had a meal together, swapped stories and relaxed before the ride to the Iran : Pakistan Border.

My Iranian dates...........

 

 

2^nd October Yazd, Iran to Bam, Iran

Having met up with Martin and Richi the previous day, today I rode the first 200 miles with other riders.  We parted company at Kerman because they wanted to camp the night in the desert. I travelled on alone to Bam. The last 50-60 miles of roads were tough… High side winds made for unpleasant riding. On single carriage way roads every oncoming truck smashes through the air creating a wall of turbulence that tries to topple a motorcycle. The last 50 miles were through a very remote region. Huge mountains, barren rocky desert….. No petrol stations. The temperatures peaked at only 26C and fell as low as 18C

Upon arriving in the city the Traffic Police pulled me over. They had a speed trap radar… however I felt that since cars were overtaking me when I hit the speed trap they were just curious. A few photos and some directions later I was on my way. Another pause for directions and a guy on a small scooter escorted me to the guest house.

I arrived at my desitination in Bam “Akhbar Guest House”  at exactly the same moment as a German guy, Gunther. He was 62 years old and riding a BMW 1000GS….. probably early 1990’s

He was a professional bike tour guide and it was fascinating to collect bits of information from him. He had travelled from the Himalayas and was heading to Oman. He had left Lahore on 25^th September and arrived in Bam on 2^nd October.

Akhbar is a simple guest house. The owner is a friendly guy who speaks excellent English. Akhbar spoke to one of his friends who escorted me and Gunther out for a meal. We ended up in lovely restaurant with really great food. A wide range of salads and of course grilled meat. The restaurant’s main feature was a courtyard with dining booths around the outside. Very Persian… sitting on carpets and bolster cushions. It was fascinating to see groups of girls dining out together without male company. Very relaxed .

Tomorrow I wait for the Austrian guys and explore Bam.

Bam mileometer 22074.                                       

 

 

 

Bam was devastated by n earthquake some years ago. More than 30,000 peopl died in the disaster. The city is now largely rebuilt using steel frame constructions.

 

 

30th September Yazd, Iran

I've hung around in Yazd because tomorrow I will meet up with a couple of Austrian guys, Martin and Richi travelling to India on KTM 690 Adventures. I spent the day giving the bike a bit of attention. Oil and filter change. The garage just a few metres from the hotel had a choice of 3 oils. I went with the proprietors recommendation of Shell Super Plus !!!. I then had the bike washed......

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I spent the afternoon doing a little cultural sightseeing. Yes really. I have surprised myself. Yazd is an ancient city. It is famous for it old city with wind towers which allegedly capture every ounce of wind and divert it downwards to cool underground dwellings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

29th September. Kashan, Iran to Yazd, Iran

So i managed to checkout of the Negarestan. The first 40 or so miles of my journey were on a motorway. I then moved onto highway. Great roads.  When you are travelling through desert you expect....

You don't expect 17C and rain. When I took the photo of the camels I was freezing. I had removed my jacket's thermal liner days ago and was wearing a short sleeve shirt. I approached the camels with caution, still wearing my crash helmet (you can't be carefull enough) I think the disguise meant that I was able to get quite close.

Very strange weather, at one point I changed into my "Decathlon Pac a Mac" I almost put on over boots. Seconds later the rain stopped and temperatures went up to 28C....things ended in a dust storm.  

After some 240 miles I reached Yazd. A group of Greengrocers helped me locate a hotel I had read about... Hotel Dad!?

Slumming it again, Dad is 4*. It has underground parking, spot my bike?

I appologise that I am unable to offer any thoughfull insights into Iranian life, culture, history etc!!!  

Yazd mileometer 21730