Greetings from Pakistan

Dear All,

Another quickie! We crossed the border into Pakistan two days ago and received a very nice welcome. The border town on the Pakistan side is called Taftan. We had hoped to stay in a motel there but it was shut, so the customs official Shammi offered us their courtyard to stay in. We wanted to go and buy some food, but he said it wasn't safe and that their cook would rustle us up something.

At 7.30 we sat down to a dinner of Tandoori chicken, daal, vegetable curry, rice, meat patties and roti! It was so delicious. He had the chicken especially prepared for us. Can you imagine this in British customs!!

Anyhow, we set off to Dalbandin the next day and when we arrived were taken to the prison where we could stay in the courtyard! We decided to look for alternatives and ended up in a hotel courtyard - still behind 4 high walls, but with slightly different company!!

Dalbandin to Quetta was a long drive - the road was pretty rough. But we are now staying in the courtyard of the Bloom Star Hotel. Tomorrow we'll go over the Bolan Pass - an ancient trading route from Afghanistan to India - on the way to Sibi. This is the best route apparently. So we'll end up driving from Baluchistan to the Sindh and then up into the Punjab to Lahore.

Iran was a new world to us, but Pakistan is something else. Driving into Quetta last night was so exciting. The life on the streets is amazing - the food stalls, the shops, the tuk tuks, donkeys and carts, the ammount of people - wow.

We'll write again soon, but probably won't be able to tell you about Iran until we get some more time - maybe in India.

We are still travelling with Mark and Brigitta.

Lots of love

Jo and Mark xx

Iran 21 October

Dear All,

It would be great if we could give you a proper account of Iran, but alas this will have to wait; time and internet constraints! I am writing from Bam, a town in the South East of Iran that was devastated by an earthquake in 2003. The hostel car park that we are sleeping in tonight is still half built.

We are here with two fellow overlanders, Mark and Brigitta. We've just spent a few days out in the Kaluts with them and are heading into Pakistan together in the next couple of days. Our plan is to drive to Zahedan tomorrow and then to the border on the 23rd October.

We are very excited about going to Pakistan.

We'll send updated messages as soon as we can.

Lots of love to all,

Jo and Mark

A quick hello!

As suspected, internet and email is not readily available in Iran. We're now down south in Shiraz after seeing Tehran, Esfahan and the Zagros Mountains. We're off to Persepolis tomorrow and then Yazd, Kerman and Bam.

We have our Pakistan visas and are currently in contact with other overlanders to get a convoy to cross the border. We're both safe and well and having a great time in Iran.

Love to all,

Jo and Mark

PS No mobile contact or facebook!

Our Iranian village experience

Iran - 2nd and 3rd day

Mark left you the night before where we had just settled in for our first night wild camping in Iran. There aren’t any camping sites to speak of in Iran and although it may seem brave to go off and wild camp on our first night, it actually felt pretty safe and we were remote enough to be very unlucky to bump into anyone or be seen from anywhere. Parked up in the middle of the hills, a stones throw from a dried up river bed that we had driven up, we watched an electrical storm unfold around us without much impact on ourselves. When you’re on a wide expanse of land you can see a lot of lightening bolts! The winds were strong enough to shake the van, and woke us a couple of times, but by the time we awoke in the morning it was a silent, still and beautiful morning.

We set off with the intention of stopping in Tabriz – Iran’s largest most northern city. We arrived there by early afternoon and after driving around the centre of the city decided to try and find El-Goli Park, recommended by Yvonne and Tobias. Not only couldn’t we find it after the third set of instructions, we were so far out of the city on the way to Tehran that we decided to just keep going.

When it had reached nearly 5 o clock we were just going past a town called Bostanabad. We decided that we needed to look for somewhere to stay. In an attempt to replicate the previous night’s success we pulled off the main road down a track towards some hills and found ourselves in….. a chicken graveyard! Yuk! Someone was obviously supposed to take the dead chickens to the dump, but found a more convenient spot! However 4x4 got a testing as one wheel disappeared down a big hole.

After another couple of attempts later we were getting close to dark and spotted a little village set into the foot of some hills. We thought we may be able to drive through into said hills, but the road stopped at the village. As we approached a group of men were carrying a large side of a shed into the village. We stopped them and asked if we could park and sleep anywhere. A man whom we later learned to be Saleh took us into the village and opened up a gate to a courtyard. The only problem being the gate was too low. We carried on round the corner and stopped, but they thought it too windy and took us further into the village. They showed us up a small track between two houses and we stopped there.

Let me describe the village. First of all, when you see it from the road it almost blends into the hillside. The houses are the same colour as the earth. It was almost like little square houses with little windows had grown out of the hill. With a closer look we realised that the houses were built from rocks and mud and straw. Nearly every house had a hay stack on it. I can’t call them lanes or roads, but the ways through the village were hardened mud and rocks.  There were chickens and dogs wandering around, joined now by some very bemused villagers.

We had parked next to the house of the man for whom the shed wall was intended. This was a reinforcement for winter. The men were putting the wall in place and as Mark wandered over to look he noticed they were using a blunt saw. Mark being Mark, the newer saw from the tool bag (thanks Alan) was fetched immediately and he managed to help out. They were all intrigued by us (and the van) and after much looking and chat, which we couldn’t understand we were taken to Saleh’s house for tea.

To enter Saleh’s house you have to bend down to go through an entrance around 5 feet tall. The other side was a yard with a low basin in and steps up to the house. Shoes off and we were inside, taken through a small kitchen to a beautifully warm living room. (It is cold enough for jumpers and jackets in northern Iran at this time of year) I say living room, because that’s literally what it was. They sat, ate, talked, slept, everything in this room. There was a heater, a TV and their bedding. The floor was covered in a mosaic of carpets and we were invited to sit, whilst tea was prepared for us.

Everyone in Saleh’s family came to see us. Our communication was ‘Salam’ and lots of smiles and shaking hands. The men shake with the men and the women shake with the women. As the grandmother entered the room - everyone got up to greet her and clearly show respect. She sat down next to me after we had greeted each other. She had a face that just melted your heart. As she sat down she clearly struggled with her knees. Although I have to say, I can’t think of many other older women I know who could sit cross legged for any length of time! We both rubbed her knees when she sat down. These things are important when you can’t speak a word!!

The other women there couldn’t help but look at me. The men didn’t so much out of respect and the fact that they had Mark to look at! We didn’t even know how to introduce ourselves as we had left every notebook in the van! Our saviour walked in through the door; Yunus. He was a student and knew a little English. He immediately asked ‘what is your name’ and after half an hour of struggling with sign language to get names, our conversation was started with renewed vigour as we all went round the room saying our names!

Their children were also a focus and entertainment. Mo’adissa, Honiyeh, Reza and Fatimeh were between 1 and 5yrs. The men took most responsibility for the childcare and the entertainment of the kids. Mark and Yunus were busily engaged in a language lesson and I was sat with some of the women who still couldn’t help look at me! This is how it went; they look at me and I look back and smile. They smile back and keep on looking. I can’t hold the smile for much longer and start a sort of nervous laughter. They laugh because I’m laughing, I laugh harder because they’re laughing and it goes on through most of the evening!!

Saleh and A’azem his wife asked us to eat with them, and after refusing a few times due to being full from lunch, we realised that resistance was futile! A plastic sheet was placed on the floor and rice, quarter of a chicken, spring onions and yoghurt were presented to us. The dinner was delicious. We were again humbled by the generosity of our newly known hosts.

Whilst we were eating, some of the women who weren’t were watching TV. A make-over show came on and they all gathered round intently watching as this woman had some extravagant make up put on her. I said I had some make up they could have. Yunus and Mark were also struggling with a leaky pen, so we went back to the van and picked up a packet of pens and I gathered together as many toiletries and bits of make up that I didn’t really need and we went back to the house.

The pens were dished out to all the kids and the women and I sat together whilst I gave them lipsalve, lipstick, mascara, eye shadow, eyeliner, an eyebrow pencil, face creams and oils and nail varnish and remover. Saleh was just as interested as the women were and was watching intently at the descriptions of things!

We had also asked if we could bring the camera. Mark, Yunus, Saleh and Ishmail all took turns taking photos of themselves and Mohammed, Rajam, Fatimeh and me. There should be some on here for you to see. Mark had by now spent three hours on and off with Yunus teaching English and he had taught us some Farsi. This was another source of great amusement in the room. Every time we tried to repeat a word they laughed at our poor pronunciation – it wasn’t nasty in any way, I think it was just funny to hear something said in such a peculiar way!!

The atmosphere in the room was lovely. We really appreciated their generosity and they appreciated ours. All of it was so unexpected. In fact, after I had given them the make up, one of the women went off and came back with some home-made bread, cheese and ghee. I had been sat there with a cold all evening and as we said our goodbyes to go off to the van and sleep, Saleh gave me some cold medicine.  It was the best evening. When we got back to the van we were just bowled over by it.

The next morning, woken by the cockerel at 6.30 we struggled out of the van with our coffees and were met by a herd of cows. Could you make this up?! Some men were struggling with a tractor – Mark was in heaven as he donated insulation tape and squirted WD4O all over it! We went in search of Saleh and Yunus to say our thanks again and our goodbyes.

As we drove off, we couldn’t help smile to ourselves and just recount stories of the evening for the whole morning.

Day three.

We pressed on that day, although we are now not driving as fast as we were because of the tyres. Four punctures in 9000km makes you re-adjust. Instead of our speedy 50-55mph or 80-90kmph we’re now doing 40-45mph or 65-75kmph! We’re driving the national routes instead of the freeway or motorway. It doesn’t make much difference to us doing those speeds and you see so much more.

The other thing that’s better about being on these roads is the petrol stations. There are lots more of them. Just before we came into Iran and from various other stories we had heard, it seemed that you needed a fuel card to get diesel from any of their stations. We think it’s because fuel is so subsidised by the government, or at least not so heavily taxed. Anyhow, whatever the reason we were slightly concerned that we may as western tourists find it hard to get fuel. We bought a fuel card worth 200 litres off a Kurdish guy for 30 Euros in Turkey as an emergency back up.

We didn’t need to worry (too much). We tried at every station we saw – we were refused at the first two, but the third garage gave us 50 litres for £1.50, the fourth, 65 litres for 65pence and the fifth 75 litres for 75pence. I kid you not. I’ll let that one sink in a little. Yes, re-read the figures, it’s true!!

With the tanks full we were full steam ahead to Tehran. We stopped that day only to get the truck weighed. We wanted to see the weight on the back wheels. Yes, it was heavy, so we re-organised some of the heavier items and carried on.

We were pulled over by the police twice again today. They don’t have any issue with us, they’re just interested in our journey. The copper today asked for our papers, looked at them and then gave us two apples to eat on our journey!! 

The scenery so far has been different to anything we’ve seen before. The mountains and rocky scenery make you think of seeing pictures of Mars on TV, very red and stark in places. The other thing it reminds you of is Wild West movies. In some places it is like you are driving through lots of small canyons. It is a landscape that has its own rugged beauty. You almost can’t take your eyes off it – its intriguing because you don’t know what it will offer next.

   

Welcome to the Islamic Republic of Iran

At approximately 12 noon today (Sunday 27 September) we crossed the border from Turkey into Iran. 

How did it go? Almost perfectly, when you get to the border you bypass the queue of trucks waiting to be weighed and processed

Before we got to passport control we were stopped by a friendly gentleman in plain clothes that asked to see our passports.  He disappeared to a kiosk and then came back offering to see us through the many complicated procedures that lay ahead! He proceeded to try and get in the van and said he must come with us. Then it twigged, he wasn’t an official but a guide who offers to see you through the border for a small fee - 10 dollars.

Passports safely back in our hands we politely declined and move on up to the real

Passport control on the Turkish side, where they check you haven’t been up to no good -which we hadn’t- and let us on our way.  On our way being between two large metal security gates. We are effectively now in Iran

More guides were trying to guide us and get paid – solution; ask a nice man in uniform.  The Iranian officials were fantastic, I pointed out to Jo that her hair had come out her scarf, and was politely informed by one of the female staff it was fine, making me look rather silly. 

Passport, fingerprints, Carnet de Passage (van passport), wheels disinfected all completed, barriers raised, we were in Iran. Wow all that talk, planning was really coming to fruition.

Ahh XXXX I forgot to buy insurance despite asking where I would get it at passport control. No worries will get it in the first town we come to.

At this point I would just like to say through the whole border procedure Jo has not said a word to anybody but myself, why, because apparently all business is completed by men not women.

So we stop at the first insurance place we see, but it does not seem to exist.  So we go next door to Sinay insurance and it all goes pear shaped from here.

We are sat in what can only be described as a 1970 office covered in blue wrapping paper  - taking the place of wall paper. I had a young gentleman looking at me slightly bemused! Salam, insurance?

He shouts for the boss and a rather portly gentleman with a very bad taste in jumpers arrives with a counter part.  At this point Jo is sat down not saying a word and my gut instinct is saying go somewhere else.  That’s ok you say so where did you go next? I didn’t I stayed, there goes mistake number one.

So a man comes in and asks for van documents so I hand him a copy and point at our beloved ship across the road.  Man disappears returns with a young gentleman with him announces it will be 6000 Rials for 5 days inform them I want 15. 

Maybe its may imagination but feels like more people arriving in office and getting involved.  Man leaves to find quote, I think for 15 days.

During this time the king of jumpers asks if I would like to pay in dollars on Rials I said dollars mistake no 2.  I successfully negotiate the exchange rate upwards. and hand him forty dollars! Mistake no 3 and 4 in one hit.

Jo at this point discreetly brakes silence as I sit next to her, informs me that I have just handed over 40 dollars for insurance that should cost 180000 rials!  (20 dollars) Duhhh!

I start to try and politely explain that you have just ripped me off! sorry made a mistake.  They are having none of it! Insurance turns up and wooly jumper man thrusts insurance at me signaling get out. Welcome to Iran has just gone sour.

So how did something so easy go so wrong? Language obviously does not help, strange money possibly a factor.  Not being able to work as a team and discuss openly, definitely.  The final factor was one of jubilation, it’s a bit like when were in Scotland climbing, you navigate your way to the top, celebrate, wander around and loose your compass bearing! Sxxt now we’re lost late and its getting dark, its high, wet and cold!

Lucky in that situation due to some excellent compass reading from friends all was not lost and luckily today yes we did get ripped off and its gutting but in the grand scheme of things its only 20 dollars (14 quid).

So, exit border head for Tabriz cursing on the way. Got to Maku and got lost. A taxi driver stops and asks us ‘Tehran or Tabriz? Tabriz, follow me! Jump back in to car and he takes us to the right road, no charge, just good luck and a wave.

So where are we now on our first night in Iran? We have pulled off the main highway and drove up a dry river bed and across a couple of smaller ones, into the hills for a quiet worry free night’s sleep as there isn’t a soul or sheep in sight.

Ah, forgot to say its just gone rather black with spectacular thunder and lighting, first pitters of rain with Jo informing me she saw on the news that Tehran has had heavy Rain and it’s probably that!  Heavy, what does she mean by heavy? Short and heavy, prolonged and heavy ,flash floods, Noah’s ark ;what! Actually it is said that Noah’s ark rested in Turkey just before the border after the great flood subsided.

So, here we are wild camping In Iran on are first night next to a dried up river bed with two more to cross in the morning with lightening and thunder over head, with Jo asking if we will be alright, how exciting and how the bloody hell do I know! Too dark to move, book too interesting to put down and van too snug to leave.  Jo, we will be fine!

There has been several moments on this trip where I have realised how little I know about nature’s forces, being out in unfamiliar countryside and how dark and quiet it can really get, a little scary but also rather lovely.