OnTheRoad

Another chapter of the journey is closed then; two days ago I finally left Iran. It's the longest continuous time spent in any one country on this trip, and the second longest in total time (Thailand wins by having three visits that add up to about 2.5 months). 54 days all up, or panja o chaar ruz in Farsi. Not bad.

There's a reason for the stay too, it really is a great country with the most hospitable people I've met anywhere, possibly even beating out the Thai and Laos people, if only because they're already inundated with tourists in South East Asia. If Iran didn't get such bad press in the western world, and their visas were less hassle to get, they would probably be crawling in tourists too.

For people such as myself, growing up in the fertile, lush greeness that is most of New Zealand (sorry to any of you from Central Otago!), the deserts are a striking and beautiful landscape. It's not something I seem to be able to capture on "film" (digital camera...), unfortunately, or the photos in my collection would show more of this. Well, it is hard to take good photos from a moving vehicle, through glass windows... Check the photos from Garmeh though, there are some around there that might hint at the scenery.

Then there's the history; people have been hanging around this part of the world for thousands of years. Even the Maori have only been in NZ somewhere around the 1000 year mark (my NZ history is poor - must read Mike King's book again), which is a new city by local standards. The amount of history, and the beautiful architecture resulting from it, is staggering. There is so much to do here, I could easily come back and spend as long again visiting nothing new.

The hospitality, as mentioned is great. I've been invited to stay, to sit, to eat, to drink, to talk so many times that I couldn't count them. Even people who spoke no English at all were happy to extend their invitations, relying only on my very broken Farsi and pantomime to have any kind of communication at all. The people have really been the part that have made my stay in Iran what it was. Thanks to all of you :)

Of course, it isn't all roses. Some small things did hack me off; religion, religion, religion. Urk. People fail to even grasp the idea of athiesm; the closest word to athiest is kafar, "unbeliever", which is quite an insult it would seem. Even the idea is foreign to most people. And yet taxi drivers, as part of their conversation, will try to ask your religion... A spin on of this is that I, despite being non-Muslim, was restrained by their laws. I can't drink alcohol (well, that wasn't so bad, my waist needed a trim after Eastern European beer anyway), women have to sit separate from men on the city busses (a hassle when travelling with Mum), I can't wear shorts or singlets (that country can be hot, damnit), I can't really talk to any women. None of these are huge, but they add up to a nagging irritant. A few people asked if I would like to live in Iran. I tried to explain to them that, much as I loved the country and its people, I could never live there while Islam makes the laws.

A minor issue, for those who've read this far - it came to my attention that some people haven't realised that there are THREE different sizes of photos. You can get large, full screen size pictures too! That's why some of the pictures look oddly truncated, the portrait style ones anyway. On the photo collection pages, you'll see two different sizes - if you click on the larger of these you get a BIG one. Clicking on that one takes you back to where you were.

After that public service announcements, I guess I should give a quick rundown of the last few days. Last week or so really, but, well, I'm lazy, so I'll brush over it.

Where were we last time? Shiraz? Yeah... So, my passport arrived finally and we skedaddled (how the hell do you spell that? I don't think I've seen it written), heading north to the city of Esfahan, the must see city on any Irani tour. I'd been before, of course, to extend my visa, but had avoided seeing anything much so that I could see it new when Mum was with me. And, I must admit, the city is impressive. Lots of parks, gardens and greenery, with some awesome architecture to boot. Check the photos is my recommendation (I took enough, what's up on the site is a fraction), a picture is worth a thousand words they say and, lazy as I am, who am I to contradict them?

Again north, almost back to Tehran, we went. To Kashan, on the edge of the Dasht-e Kavir, one of the Irani deserts. A quick stop for Mum, even quicker for me, as I nicked up to Tehran to grab my snowboard from the hotel I'd left it waiting at. Kashan isn't bad either, the main highlight for me being the flash houses under restoration. Originally from governors and wealthy families, these houses are under very heavy restoration and are looking absolutely great; once work is complete, they're going to be even better. It was also interesting to see the hordes of manteau and chador clad school girls wandering around. Some of this strange, covered breed have even been captured on film! The giggling was harder to catch on film, but you can probably imagine.

From Kashan there was a quick hop to Yazd, which isn't so bad, nor so flash. A tour out of the city itself was a highlight, with the ruined mud city of Kharanaq the highlight for me. Strangely enough, Dru tells me he has some of the exact same pictures I took on this tour; we're developing a theory that I'm not actually on holiday, just hiding in the mountains in NZ, and I'm stealing his pictures and posting them. Anything with me in it is just Photoshop at work.

After Yazd, we headed for the border, stopping overnight in Kerman and then Zahedan. Zahedan was interesting; after bullying the hotel into letting us stay (they had to call the police to check if it was OK), we weren't allowed to leave; too dangerous (aka the police don't want the hassle of dealing with missing foreigners if something does go wrong; which, in all fairness, it does seem to do in Zahedan often enough). In the morning, when we wanted to leave, the police came along and gave us a slightly confusing escort to the savari (shared taxi) stand. There was some driving in circles, some picking up and dropping off of escorts, but eventually we made it. Here they tried a good old fashioned taxi overcharging, something that's a rarity in Iran (normally they're great). After negotiating unsuccessfully we went to jump in another cab, who was fine with our price (I suspect it was the right price). The poor taxi driver was given an airfull by the guy who tried to overcharge us, who then dropped to the price we had asked and off we went. Well, not quite; he piled an extra passenger in, which was not what we'd paid for - we'd agreed on a private taxi price.

Ah well; it just made for more fun at the end. When the driver asks for his cash, he seemed a little put out that it wasn't all there. My Farsi is, by this point in time, well up to arguing about money, so I was able to explain that we had agreed 80,000 for "closed door" (only us, no other passengers), and he had put in an extra passenger. First we had agreed 60,000 not "closed door", so we would now pay that. He wasn't so keen, and hassled us until we had our passports stamped and walked out into Pakistan. Sigh. Poor man. I hate taxi drivers, really, I do.

Anyhow, Pakistan. Hot, dusty and dirty. Yes, Iran really is quite wealthy, and the central and western cities are clean and (in spring) green. Here, it's dirty and dusty. Oh, did I mention hot? We're in Quetta, tomorrow heading to Moenjadaro; apparently it was in the mid-40s near there yesterday. Wicked.