Well, it was so nice to get all the messages of concern and support after the suspenseful end to that last post! Comments, texts… nice to be thought of when you’re on your lonesome. I can assure you, the whole event was as dramatic as it sounded. So in the interests of answering the burning question (What happened next?) let me put your minds at ease… or partially at least… because lets face it. It’s still unfolding.
But first some housekeeping.
This blog is such a pain. For the little I do to it, there are so many bugs and quirks that came with the package. I’ll quickly summarise:
- Making Comments. Even though you get an error when you post a comment, it actually works! So yeah, no need to re-do. So sorry about that. Would love to fix it but that requires good Internet speed and knowing which of three or gour support teams to contact (whom I have to know some account details in order to do it). But thank you for the comments! I love them. So glad you take the time to share the journey.
- Approving Comments. So apparently, if you’ve already commented once and I approved, you are meant to have auto approval for future comments after that. Well, it doesn’t work. Not only that, but I don’t even get emailed when people comment which I’m meant to. So yeah, comments are only getting approved when (or if) I can log in at this stage. Apologies for delays for those of you seeking instant gratification of witticisms.
- Internet speed. Ignore what I said weeks ago. It is shite. I guess that ginormous government filter that blocks out mostly useful sites (and a whole lot of garbage sites) is probably the reason it creaks and crawls along. I guess everyone was having a nice holiday the day I arrived and I was led into a false sense of security. Some days I simply cannot lof into the blog at all. Other days it displays what I’m typing in white (hence why am I typing in gmail now instead). The photo uploads are torturously slow, but if I’ve learned one thing here it is patience. Sill haven’t learned how to secure my personal belongings byt that’s another matter.
- Subscriptions. If you want to subscribe the link is all good (appears after each post or beside each blog post). I see a few have already done so. Even I got a notification when I posted recently! Do let me know if there are issues
- Instagram. Finally gave in and signed up. It’s huge here in Iran and I figured it would be a nice way to share across cultures. It’s also easy, I can snap a photo on the phone and post it immediately. Will try to keep a regular stream flowing. Although I often forget. You can see my Instagram recent photos and a link to my account next to (or below) each blog post as well.
Ok, finally got that out of the way. Back to the story…
Losing the two most critical items for my journey (with the exception maybe of the bike keys or the bike itself!), made me sick to the stomach. The initial shock and “how can this be happening” sensation is not one I can recommend ever. I told the hotel and they were magnificent. The owner immediately offered everything for free. There’s no doubt they could easily sense my despair and to be quite honest, terror, at my predicament. I asked the owner if there was any way whatsoever to get my hands on some money. I think I had $50 to my name at that point. He told me there in fact was a way and how much did I need. I said US$1,000 minimum. He said it shouldn’t be a problem.
It turns out, someone had a PayPal account so later on in my stay I was able to do an instant transfer and get handed US$1400 cold hard cash. The feeling was one of immense relief.
But to go back to my arrival in Yazd. I had no sooner got my bags unloaded, when I thought, I’m just going to ride back to the lunch venue on the off chance the passport and wad of cash fell out there. I knew it was one in a million, but at this stage all you can think of is doing something! Anything! Even if it is entirely unproductive and irrational.
By sheer fluke I actually found my back to the venue about 7kms away just following my nose. I arrived and there was no sight of the families who had traveled with me (despite the crowds around the place) and certainly no sign of any passport. I sat down in the shade and decided to ring my brother Kieren, whom I’d been speaking to earlier. When he didn’t arise (was probably 11pm in Australia by then) I tried my sister Nicole. Fortunately, she answered and I was able to share some of my burden. In times like this, speaking to a loved one is about the only medicine that can soothe the despair. Unfortunately, I managed to make her sick in the stomach too! But I knew that money would be coming and I guess I would just have to deal with it. I shot a group message off to the family and some were still up. My brother Paul provided comic relief (noting that everyone in the family including him thought this would happen to him), my little sister Helen added to the number of individuals with sick stomachs. Dad even punched out a text on behalf of he and Mum to lend support. So you can imagine Kieren’s alarm waking to see 3 missed calls and 30 missed group messages initiated by yours truly.
Side note: The Maloney boys’ overseas adventures to date have now come to a score of:
World 7 – Maloney boys 0
– Paul losing his only credit card a week before going overseas for eight months and having to rely on me for funds supply the whole journey
– Paul and Shane spending the night at the police station in Paraguay
– Paul almost getting beaten up in Peru (rescued by Shane)
– Paul actually getting beaten up and mugged in Ireland
– Kieren getting beaten up in Thailand (probably by lady boys)
– Kieren losing passport and wallet in Italy
– Shane losing passport and cash in Iran
So as you can see, Paul’s comment wasn’t too far from the mark. Hence why we don’t let him out of the country anymore. Sadly, I seemed to have shifted from the Ivory Tower to the Glass House.
So after I rode back to the Hotel and showered, the tourists were rounded up and shuttled off to an evening of entertainment. I had no idea what the celebration was (it seemed no one did), but it didn’t stop us from being good guests. It turns out there were two celebrations: The birthday anniversary of Imam Reza (one of the famous 12 Imams of Shia Islam – who is actually the only one buried in Iran I believe – up in Masshad) AND the very first entry of Iran into the UNESCO World Heritage Sites for which Yazd was successful! (Yazd is famous for its ancient desert dwellings and is one of the oldest living cities in the world)
And so the local Spiritual and Religious Tourism body put on a show that included traditional music, modern music a comedic act (who had to be interpreted), some speeches and would you believe some special guest performances from the tourists themselves. When the showman asked for some help on stage I couldn’t help but laugh and he spotted me straight away. So four of us were dragged up on stage to perform. We had to sing a song from our country and then, I kid you not, sing along to an Iranian pop song! If doing Waltzing Matilda wasn’t embarrassing enough, then trying to make up words in Farsi (of which I know two) to a pop song was horrendously humiliating. My reassuring thought was: These people are never going to see me again!
And so with drinks, snacks and later on a huge cake cut on stage, it was quite the gathering. The locals really appreciated our involvement and were dealing out the kisses and hugs in large doses when we bade our farewells. (And yes, I’m talking about the men).
During the entertainment, I met some Norwegians, a Kiwi, Croatians, Japanese, Chinese, French and Hungarians. All from our hotel! One of the Norwegians commented on how calm I seemed after my ordeal, but I guess I’d had a couple of hours to get my head straight and the show was a welcome distraction.
The next day I headed off to the tourist police to make my report. TWICE I pulled up outside the complex only to be told by someone they had no idea where the tourist police were! The second person was a policeman! I drove around for ages behind his car while we tried to find it until I think he gave up and sent me to a tourist hotel. He was a nice guy though. The hotel duly informed me the location and when I arrived back at square one I couldn’t believe what a circus I’d been on riding around in the heat for an hour when I was at the place right at the beginning!
Returning to the hotel later on I was in no mood for sightseeing, despite everything Yazd had to offer and I just tried to process all the new uncertainties and unknowns that were now in my consciousness…. Would my passport turn up? Could I get any money from the hotel owner’s contact? Does this mean I have to go to Tehran? How long will it take to get a new passport? How do I get a passport? What will I do about the Uzbek visa, the pending Turkmen visa and most importantly of all the Russian visa? Shoot. How long is the ride back to Tehran? What route do I take to Italy if I can’t get into Russia? What the hell am I even doing here?
I was hopeful someone would hand the passport in. It sure hurt bad losing $2,500 (real bad), but at that moment all I cared about was the passport. I couldn’t help but feel I should go back to where I last stopped to take photos and check if it fell out there. I knew it was about 50kms out of town and it was frightfully hot, but I just wanted to check.
I was glad I did it. Even though it was bloody hot and took up two hours. It actually helped me move forward and accept that the chances of finding the passport were one in a billion. Why? Well, as I rode along at 80kms/hr I looked at the side of the road and realised just how much rubbish there was and the chances of someone even NOTICING a passport amongst the dirty nappies and other rubbish was slim, let alone actually stopping. I’m sure the passport and cash would have blown off the road, but if they haven’t well there is the tiniest hope. But that hope runs out tomorrow when I lodge my new passport application. The current one will forever by cancelled. I hope it sits as a prize inside some nomad’s tent if that’s the case.
And so having received the much needed cash on the Saturday evening (can’t begin to describe the relief it is to have money in your hands) I was set to leave Sunday. No matter which way I looked at it, I was unable to avoid arriving in Tehran’s stinking heat. When it’s 38 degrees between 2pm and 8pm it’s pretty hard to find a good leaving time for a seven hour journey.
As I loaded up the bike I noticed the front tyre was a little flat. That sense of being tested to the limit was ever present. I just, please no. Not a tyre change now. Already it was getting hot and it wasn’t even 10am. I just kept thinking to myself, there can be no adventure without adversity. This is what it’s all about. I made a closer inspection, hand pumped it up and felt confident it would make the journey. I stopped to get some more air put in and the tire was fine. I was so glad I was going to be able to get to Tehran. It’s not that it couldn’t be sorted in Yazd, it’s just that sense of… how do I put this… that sense of heaviness and pressure when you have a big journey ahead of you that you know is going to be tough and you just have to do it. You just want it over with, but first you must go through with it.
And so, I got going and yes, it was hot. As usual 2pm arrived and the scorched earth reflected back in my face with the ferociousness of a blow torch. But I was making good time. I’d also discovered a new riding position a la Terence Hill in the “Trinity” Spaghetti Westerns where I could put my feet up on the inlet of the fuel tanks half way up. Kind of like a crouch. (Terence Hill was on a horse obviously). And no Mum, it wasn’t dangerous. Besides, the road was mostly empty. Yazd to Tehran is not too popular and I can damn well see why!
I stopped two hours out from Tehran at a huge road side service station and eatery and was able to feed, fuel and cool and then I was off into the melting bitumen once more. Of course the bike cooked again in the Tehran furnace (I’m running out of heat adjectives and nouns) and I was so relieved I got to my destination without blowing up the engine.
As soon as I pulled up, a guy came up for a chat. Turns out he’s a dirt biker and rides every weekend in the mountains with his mates… wait for it… the Iranian Enduro Champion and the Iranian Trials Champion! He invited me along this weekend and I thought, actually that sounds amazing. Let’s do it. He helped with my luggage to the hotel and we swapped numbers (and dirt bike photos of course) and finally I could relax at 6:30pm.
I also found a different and slightly cheaper hotel in Tehran so that has helped too. I liked the last one, but to go back there would just remind me of the long wait I had for the bike and everything else. So yeah, a change of scenery. Slightly better place and slightly cheaper. Funnily enough it’s in the lighting shops street where you are blinded constantly, but there is a good vibe.
The bike ride gives you a lot of time to think. It’s interesting. It always just comes down to a mindset adjustment. Dealing with uncertainty and adversity is just part of the journey. Losing the passport was devastating, but it’s not life threatening. It’s so funny being back in Tehran. I feel like I’ve had three chapters thus far on this trip: 1) Waiting for the bike, 2) Tearing around the desert on the bike and 3) Being sans passport (with the stress that brings). I’m looking forward to the next chapter. What this whole shakeup has done is completely changed my itinerary. I now have time to go to the north and see the mountains, forests and Caspian sea. I can’t wait for the change of scenery and the cooler climates!
I went to the Australian Embassy today. It was seriously like Fort Knox! I’d already made my way to the Tourist Police or Immigration whatever they were and they were really helpful in formalising my report. In between jokes about Iran v Australia in the 1998 World Cup soccer qualifier (I’ve heard about that enough already), one guy asked how old I was and was so shocked that he just laughed and pointed to his colleague remarking “Look at him, he’s 46!” As if to say he looked much older than me. I don’t think the colleague found it too funny, but it made me feel good.
The Immigration Police was a strange location. All passport related. There were signs for Political Asylum amongst other things. I guess they have flows from both directions – Afghanistan in the East and Iraq/Syira in the West. Sure makes you realise that a lost passport isn’t the end of the world… even if you are at the end of the world.
The Aus Embassy was awesome. Apart from feeling like I’d come through the entrance way that Maxwell Smart would use on Get Smart, the lady was super friendly and helpful. Given an emergency passport (issued in 48 hours) is really only for getting you home, she recommended I get the full blown version which would take 2-3 weeks and the tidy sum of $430 – ouch! But I agreed. An emergency passport would only cause more difficulties down the line as I enter new places in several months time. Don’t worry, there are moments of weakness when you think, I could just go home and do this… Nevertheless, I should be right to lodge tomorrow.
And so, that is where I am. An extended stay in Iran is on the cards. Central Asia seems to be gone and Russia is still unknown. Turkey is now a possibility. Who would have predicted this a week ago?
In the meantime, my Iranian friend Mo in Australia came through with some family assistance here as did my Iranian contact Mo (yes, another Mo) in San Diego. So great to have contacts here and such willing and helpful offers! It just makes you feel a little bit less isolated.
I would have loved to have added some photos to this post, but this has been a marathon and I dread the upload process. Besides, you’ve seen enough desert photos and Tehran photos and I didn’t do anything touristy in Yazd, so you’ll just have to google that one.
All i can say Shane your some man for 1 man think i would have just turned around and came home ….anyhow look like all is working ok for you now hope you’re passport gets to you lets you continue your journey please stay safe x 💗 Rose and Eugene
Thanks Rose and Eugene, I look forward to eventually getting up your way to Ireland where we can all laugh about over a pint of Guinness!
Great post again – a mixture of heart warming and gut wrenching experiences! Hope you get many more wonderful experiences while waiting for the new passport saga to end. All the best Shane!
Thanks A&A,
It’s great you guys have your own nearby adventure! Makes me feel a little less like I’m alone ha ha!
Keep your chin up mate – much like ERP projects, the road is long and bumpy, but the experience along the way will provide you the memories for a lifetime.
PS. you idiot! 🙂
The very thought “I am and idiot” must have run through my head a thousand times bjp, but sure – go ahead and remind me ha ha
wow Shane. I’d expect the KTM to drop mission critical parts, but not you… Remember its only an adventure when someothing goes wrong.
So true Marcus. You’d be loving this adventure. Very much your style. Been using the gloves too thanks… after I dropped one of mine the other day.
your travel sagas leave me for dead Shane! feeling so much better about my last trip…… I’m only $1,000 behind you though! Great planning on the fly!👌
Thanks Nick. Nice to know one’s stuff up can make another’s seem less horrible 🙂
Hi 007,
Glad to read that everything is going to plan!:)
We miss you here, but mainly holding fingers crossed that you stay alive. Tell Paul to behave.
008
Thanks Champette!
Keep ’em crossed a bit longer 😉
Well, I’m not sure what the going price is for false compliments on youthfulness? But I guess, definitely in your case, $2500 and a Passport is fair payment.
Sounds like you’re having quite the adventure mate. Wind back on the whinging though, losing a passport wouldn’t have stopped Papa Jones from achieving his goal. He once trekked the Simpson on foot on word of good Roo, only stopping to spit into his gumboot… which he would then drank later.
When he found himself with setbacks… he was playing tennis
Ah young cousin William,
So good of you to drop in with your 2 cents and prove the adage “better to remain silent and be thought a fool than open one’s mouth and remove all doubt”.
Admire your spirit though.
Far out Mr Maloney – just been catching up about your travels… what a time you’ve been having! Although your plans are ever changing, I’ve no doubt your experience will be amazing and you’ve already gotten some crazy stories!
Cheers Burkey,
Yeah it’s been incredible. Sometimes you are just going about your day and then you realise “My God I’m riding solo in Persia” and it just seems hard to believe. So many little stories in amongst the big ones for sure. Take care mate.