Into Iran

Well, it has finally begun.

After a sad farewell to the family, I was on my way in style (Qantas and Qatar Business Class – thank you frequent flyer points). Needless to say the flat beds are amazing. After such little sleep in the frantic lead up to departure, these were a life saver. I slept like a king (ever so slight alcohol inducement). I had been looking forward to flying Qatar Airways and I can assure you, they didn’t disappoint. The Business Lounge in Doha was beyond spectacular and given my overnight wait, it made for a surreal experience to be one of only a handful of people cruising around a football field sized lounge that catered to every whim and fancy. (I’m not going to feel too guilty about a little luxury on a 31 hour trip before 125 days on a motorbike.)

Boarding the flight to Iran was the best feeling. Finally, everything felt real. Flying over this vast desert nation and thinking, “Wow, I could be riding through that in a few days” was quite awe inspiring. Upon landing and disembarkation, the dry heat could be felt instantly. The path through Immigration was a breeze (I was first and it took 30 seconds tops). Customs didn’t even scan my bags and getting an Iranian sim card was quick and painless. Wait for it: 20GB of data for USD$20. Trying to work out how I could possibly use that much in three weeks. Maybe I’ll harass family and friends back home with FaceTime (err… not likely). Before I knew it I was on my way to a currency exchange counter with my “taxi driver” who I’m pretty sure wasn’t a taxi driver. But he got me to where I needed to be. Well, at least where I thought I needed to be.

The hostel looked abandoned. I would find out soon after it actually was abandoned. Fortunately, some Iranian guy chilling out a few metres away was able to ring the number I had and put me on the phone. (Pretty impressed with that, given he didn’t speak English.) Turns out some gas leak meant they had to temporarily relocate. So the random guy offered to take me on his moto for US$5. Normally, I’d be pretty stoked with this arrangement. I love getting on bikes everywhere I go despite these sorts of countries not having the highest safety standards. (i.e. no helmets). But for the first time in my life, I was actually nervous. You see, it’s hard to mitigate every known risk to mankind just so you can get yourself and your bike to the other side of the world both in one piece and then ignore all that for the sake of expediency. I have literally spent the last three months avoiding anything that might injure me in a way that would ruin this trip. Even a small wrist fracture can be enough to destroy a year of planning and saving.

But, I did it anyway. And it was fun. Just glad he got me there safely.

The temptation to sleep was great (it was about 2pm by then). However, I showered and headed out into the sunshine. Met a tour guide from the Alamut Valley and his friends whilst strolling through the park. He was very fluent in English and quite interesting to talk to. He’s taking a group of Dutch on a 12 day hike, but I might stay with his family when I leave Tehran. Very keen to ride the motorbike around these mountains and it is in the direction I want to head initially – North. Pffft, hiking. No thanks. Not yet anyway. I’m itching to get on this motorbike.They were also kind enough to point out that shorts were a no-no in Iran even for men. I did do a quick scan of the Lonely Planet before heading out, but let’s face it, I didn’t look too hard. Turns out, no-one (police included) really care. I mean some cops said yeah, you should probably change when you get back to the hotel, but that was about it. It’s bad enough to be noticed as a tourist in a foreign land, but when you’re that one idiot who isn’t even aware of the most basic cultural customs, yeah, you get my point. The long walk of shame back to the hotel felt endless. Although the guys in the restaurant were interested in what we men could where in Australia. When they enquired about women’s dress code, they informed me they would like to live in Australia too.

I stayed awake as best I could when I got back to the hotel. But I reckon I was out before 7pm and then proceeded to sleep for 13 hours. Waking up from a 13 hour sleep is the best feeling.

Day 2 proved to be a busy and interesting one.

Found myself a hotel that changed currency (only did a bit at the airport) and then won me over to moving to their establishment. Unfortunately, my current lodging has no secure motorbike parking so the owner of the newly discovered hotel offered to park it in the entry way. Yes, literally the hallway people have to use to get in and out of the hotel! Of course I said yes and the rooms are way, way better at only a cost of US$8 more than my current lodgings.

Took in more parks and three museums: the National Museum, the Muslim Museum and the Carpet Museum. Pretty interesting ancient items in the first two, including the famous Salt Man (preserved from being buried in salt for thousands of years. Kind of eerie when you look at his head up close. Even the hair is preserved. (Beard looked real, but I wasn’t so sure about what was on top.)

I found a very nice place to eat and the young hostess could speak a little English. She was eager to practice English and this mildly terrified me because I’m still not 100% clear on how and when I am supposed to talk with women here. Nevertheless, her husband has approved (apparently) and today we’ll meet at the cafe next to her restaurant. (Ironically, that was the cafe I was looking for initially. It just happened to be shut at the time.)

Later that evening I went for a stroll through the winding alleys to find another cafe I had heard about. It is still light after 8pm and 36 degrees. The alleyways are quite desolate given the madness of the roads around them and I think they were designed many years ago to ensure no one place copped direct sunlight all day. I emerged at a main road and across from it was a lovely open pedestrian mall. Quite the contrast. Very busy with families everywhere. The shops looked just like any other mall I’ve seen in the West. Brightly lit, quality goods on offer – shoes, clothing, accessories etc, buskers singing and playing and even a guy dressed up as mickey mouse. That last bit was not expected.

Every now and then I might see a Western girl. At first they are easy to miss as they are dressed similarly to the locals so you kind of do a double take. Most seem to have a female local guide, although I don’t think is mandatory or necessary. Tehran feels very safe. For the first time in my life, I think I might be the one that stands out the most. Well, not quite, the older Europeans still have the goods there.

So, as I arrive hungry at yet another closed cafe (maybe to do with the holiday, hard to say), I stumble across what is probably some sort of Arts complex in an old factory. This place was so cool and artsy, I wasn’t sure what I was meant to be seeing. Something to do with Slavs and Tatars and Iran’s unique place between Russia and China… or something like that. The guys were fluent in English and I managed to get a quick view of the installation and then a much deserved meal. They were kind enough to book me a taxi using Snapp which I think is the German equivalent of Uber. Would have been handy knowing that sooner because I can’t seem to download from Apple’s App Store in Iran. Speaking of which, every now and then a site I visit on the web is blocked. Seems random, but hasn’t affected me to date. Having a sim card here changes everything. I have been hammering google maps each day to the extent that my phone needs charging at least twice a day. Painful, but it sure makes independent life easy and hassle free. And forget what everyone says – Internet (and wi-fi) speeds here are fine.

Day 3 is underway and I’m thinking a visit to the Jewelry Museum is in order. If time permits, the Grand Bazaar and the Golestan Palace beckon. If not today then later. I’m pretty sure between sorting the bike out and a couple of embassy visits I won’t be out of here before Wednesday. When the open road beckons, you feel quite constrained awaiting your golden chariot. Desperate for Monday to come around so I can go and collect it. Of course, I’m now having dreams about how I manage to ride it out of air cargo, but I’m sure I’ll find a way to open the crate and have them let me leave it there! At least, I’ve now gotten a good sense of traffic and whilst it is chaos, it is a chaos I am more than comfortable with. No worse than being on a motorbike in Vietnam. I guess the key difference is that Vietnam/Cambodia is probably more chaotic, but they are mostly on motos. Here they are chaotic, but a higher percentage of cars. Not ideal, but they are pretty amazing drivers. This would simply not fly in Australia. Until next time.