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.
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