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Published: July 25th 2006
Assyrian nobles
climb the stairs to be in the presence of their master, Darius the Great (or whomever was emperor at the time). We thought that after 5 months of travelling we'd be starting to feel a little road weary but now that we've reached that minor milestone, far from been tired of living out of a backpack our first few days here in China have left us really really excited about the next 10 weeks in the middle Kingdom. We've spent the last 2 weeks racing across the western deserts of this vast country in order to get to Beijing (where we're currently at) in time to meet my mother, who has arrived safe and well. But to talk about China too much would be getting ahead of ourselves blogwise as we're still a wee bit behind, hence this post about our wonderful time back in April in a country of friendly people, abysmal driving and very very bad TV. No, we haven't snuck back home to NZ without telling anyone, I'm talking about Iran!
The tone for our time in Iran was set right from the moment we set foot in the country. Crossing the border from Eastern Turkey is supposed to be a frightening prospect, at least according to various tales on the internet, baggage searches, book confiscations, hour long
interrogations in steamy rooms, that sort of thing. But our crossing from Dogubayezit couldn't have gone any more smoothly. The biggest problem was finding someone on the Turkish side to stamp our passports. Saying goodbye to the friendly Iranian men sitting in the Turkish duty free shop having their last beer before heading home to the Islamic Republic (where, of course, booze is outlawed) we wandered across no man's land where an Iranian guard grabbed us, walked us past the queues, stamped our passports, helped us change money and put us on a bus for the nearest town (a bus trip for which we weren't even able to pay - a couple of locals sorted it for us and wouldn't accept our offers to pay them back). Even the negotiations with the taxi drivers to take us to a hotel were conducted in good humour.
Our first couple of days were a complete blur of long taxi rides and over night bus trips. But we eventually made it to Tehran early one morning, via Maku and Tabriz, where we were to find and check into a place to stay, dump our bags and then make our way to the
Bleached blondes and South Park....
....cultural icons of the Islamic Revolution? Turkmenistan embassy before its 11am closing time, to secure our visas for that country. All of the above we managed to achieve aside from, of course, getting the visa. Turns out we needed an original letter of invitation instead of the copy the agency we had paid a not insignificant amount of money to furnish us with, had sent us. So yet another sternly worded e-mail to the agency was in order. I won't name them here as I know they have an excellent reputation and are normally very good but that was scant consolation to us as they ballsed up all 3 of the visas they were supposed to help us get.
Tehran was as hectic, hot and noisy as we expected it to be. To be fair we were shattered from our marathon journeys to get there but we, like many other tourists I think, didn't quite gel with the place. The national museum was interesting and there are some lovely parks to chill out in but the highlight for us both was probably the national jewellery collection. I'm not normally too big on jewellery. For me the only thing as coma inducing on a Saturday morning
The institute of space secrets?!?
Didn't you graduate from here Dave (or should that be special agent Mathieson)? as been dragged around a women's clothing store is been led into a shop full of watches, rings and sparkly things (at least the clothes shops usually have chairs for bored partners to relax in). But this collection was something else. Diamonds the size of your fist, solid gold crowns encrusted with hundreds of gleaming emeralds and rubies, and, the pride of the collection, the 200 year old peacock throne, covered in more than 26000 gems of various shades.
Following our whirlwind stay in Tehran we headed back to the north west to the town of Qazvin, famous not so much in it's own right but more as a good location from which to visit the nearby castles of the assassins - something that a guy like me would obviously find hard to resist. The assassins were a mysterious Muslim sect from around 1000 years ago who lived in remote and terribly inaccessible hide outs high in the mountains from where they emerged periodically to, you guessed it, assasinate opponents and enemies of the faith. Genghis Khan took a dislike to them however and had them annhilated in the 13th century. After a 3 or 4 hour taxi ride
over the Alborz mountains we came across an imposing rocky outcrop upon which the most well known of the castles (Alamut) was located. A half hour trudge up the rocky face brought us to, well, not that much really - a few old mud brick walls and cavities where various rooms used to be. Still, the view was beautiful and the guards at the top were exceptionally friendly so all up it was a very good day. Our driver was an interesting chap as well. Towards the end of the day he furtively (this is the Islamic republic remember), pulled out his home brew, of which he was immensely proud. A couple of swigs later (actually one very small sip later, to smell it was enough) and.....hmmm, nice chap, good driver, but if all Iranian efforts at distilling alcohol end up like this then maybe the mullahs (the country's religious leaders who have ultimate control over the elected government) are doing us all a favour with their ban. Actually, beer is widely available everywhere in Iran but it was all non-alcoholic. Our driver also hauled out his collection of Persian pop music. We couldn't quite work out how much of
it was illegal (some of it definitely is) but in reality it probably doesn't matter too much as so many people have (illegal) access to racy Turkish MTV type channels anyway that they're hardly likely to be any more "corrupted" by some of their own stuff. Despite normally hating rap music and the various other genres it has spawned I really liked a track that started out thus - (booming Black American voice) "Yo! You ain't never heard nothing like this before - Persian Hip Hop". The rest of the song was filled up with all the normal rubbish you expect from this kind of music (apologies to any hip hop fans) but the fact that it was performed (albeit by expats in the States) and listened to by multitides of young Iranians in spite of the ridiculous edicts of their government really appealed to me. I guess we shouldn't have been surprised at all this but hip hop and home brew are not things we normally associate with Iran.
Whilst in Qazvin we also visited its main mosque, a place where local martyrs from the war with Iraq are buried. Despite the fact that Qazvin is not that
big a place thousands upon thousands of war dead were commemorated there. The scale of the place was made all the more real by the fact that photos of the vicitims were laid into each gravestones. The thing that most stood out was how young most of them looked. These were the kind of young guys whom we saw been blown up (literally) every day on TV in Iran via horrendously graphic images from the war, images that woud be far far too graphic for broadcast in either NZ or the UK.
From Qazvin we headed back to Tehran and then onto Esfahan by way of the night train. Esfahan was for us, like so many other tourists who head this way, probably the highlight of our time in Iran. With its numerous parks and tree lined streets Esfahan is an incredibly green and beautiful city, probably one of the nicest we have ever visited. But the real reason so many people visit Esfahan is to take in the many and glorious palaces and mosques that pack the entral part of the city. Kar Po's favourite was the small but perfectly formed Sheikh Lotfallah mosque, while I preferred the
Watermelon sellers
Why is it that so many people insist on having their photo taken but then don't even smile? famous 17th century Iman mosque - an enormous building covered in sparkling bright blue mosaics. We both reckon it is up there with the Taj Mahal as one of the most awe inspiring structures we've ever seen. You'll see a couple of photos of the mosque below but once again they fail miserably to convey the scale and beauty of the place.
From Esfahan it was a 7 hour bus trip across the deset to the city of Shiraz, once famed for the grape to which it has given its name. Like Esfahan, Shiraz is jam packed with old Islamic monuments and beautiful gardens - a very pleasant place to spend a few days, aside from the food that is, hamburger and pizza joints on every corner and not too much else. Whilst browsing around the bazaar one morning we met Behan and Laila, a young Iranian couple who invited us back to their place for lunch, an offer we were very happy to accept, especially given our lack of affinity for shop brought Iranian food. The meal they served up for us was definitely the best we had during or time in Iran and it was a great
Qazvin mosque
Rows of memorials to matyrs from the war with Iraq in the foreground, each with a photo. This mosque alone had thousands of them. opportunity to see how Iranian people lived at home....not too much differently than us as it turns out. We ended up spending most of the next couple of days with Behan, Laila and Rosa, their 2 year old daughter.
An hours drive from Shiraz is one of the greatest sites from the ancient world - Persopolis, the seat of Persian power during the heyday of their empire and the home of legendary kings such as Darius the Great and Xerxes. The power that the Persians must have wielded at the time can be seen today in the numerous, and excellently preserved, frescos of trains of nobles from various vassal states bringing tribute to their Persian masters - giraffes from Ethiopia, elephants from India, gold from everywhere.
Alexander the Great had different ideas about the greatness of Persia however, and had Persopolis burnt to the ground in the 4th century BC after he had defeated their army and chased Xerxes (or was it Darius, can't remember) half way round Asia. Some say he did it in a bout of drunken madness, others say it was a deliberate act intended to extract revenge for earlier Persian outrages in Greece and
Vank cathedral, Esfahan
The most important church in the Armenian part of town. remind the Persians who was boss. Whatever the thinking (or not) behind the destruction of Persopolis we are lucky in that not everything was completely destroyed and you are still able to get an idea of how grand the place must have looked during at the height of its glory as you wander through what remains of its palaces and temples.
To get to Persopolis we (along with Tom from Germany) hired a taxi for the entire day. This allowed us to see the site, and some nearby tombs of a similar age, at our own pace. It cost us a few quid more (not too much more though) than the tours the hotels offer but for the flexibility and additional time it gave us it was an excellent investment and definitely recommended if anyone else is heding this way.
Saying goodbye to Shiraz we took yet another bus to the desert city of Yazd. The most striking thing about this small city are the narrow lanes and clay coloured mud packed buildings of its old quarter. It is also home to the most sacred temple of the Zorastrian faith - where a flame has been kept alive
Iman Square, Esfahan
The flags of all Muslim nations. by temple guards for (supposedly) more than 1500 years. Just outside the city are the towers of silence - ancient stone structures, sitting atop barren and rocky hillocks where the Zorastrians used to leave their dead to be disposed of by vultures. We climbed to the top of one of these structures and lined up a lovely picture of the two of us with another of the towers on an adjoining hill, the desert and a range of mountains forming a beautiful background. The only other person up there with us was an Englishman who described himself as the world's worst photographer. Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong and so we missed out on our winning shot, despite his 2 attempts at lining us up through the camera viewfinder and pressing the button.
Due to the earlier balls up with the Turkmen visa we became pressed for time during the latter stages of our stay in Iran and had to cheat. By cheat I mean that we had to fly from Yazd to Mashad, thereby ruining our claim to have travelled overland from Cairo to Beijing. It was only by a few hundred kms out of a total of around 7500
Home for a few days
The courtyard in our hotel, Yazd (USD20 per night for a double) km (7500 as the crow flies, our actual distance travelled is far far more than this), so I don't think we'll get too worked up about it but it is another minor frustration arising from the incompetence/misfortune of our visa support agency. Mashad has a Turkmen consulate with which we had to plead to acknowledge the validity of our papers and give us visa, hence the rush to get there.
Mashad is one of the holiest cities in Iran and millions of shiite muslims from all over the world flock to the vast shrine of Iman Reza situated right in the city centre. As non-Muslims we were restricted as to what parts of the complex we were allowed to visit but nevertheless the religious fervour of the pilgrims was obvious for all to see. In fact Mashad was the only place we visited where we saw scenes of religious passion reminiscint of the images of Iran our media often presents us with. Likewise, the jeans and uncovered fringes favoured by women everywhere else we went in the country were also far less apparent in Mashad. Conversely, Mashad was the only place in Iran where we were swamped with annoying
touts trying to guide us to their favoured hotel and/or taxi (i.e. the place that would give them the best commission).
With the Turkmen border only a few hours drive from Mashad it was time to move on after our 3 weeks in Iran. Before coming here we'd heard stories about how friendly the people were, which we found to be true time and time again, but we'd also heard how dangerous the place was, mainly from people who hadn't actually been there mind you, so we didn't really know what to expect. What surprised us most I think was the level of cynicism of so many people with their government and their eagerness to share their views with us without any sort of encouragement from ourselves. Many were the occasions when someone would come up to us in the street, wanting to practice their English generally, and ask what we thought of the goverment/mullahs. By the time we bungled our way through a polite 'no comment' type answer they'd invariably have already launched into a tirade about how corrupt the mullahs are and how useless the government was at standing up to them. It wasn't just us either,
Esfahan
One of the many lovely parks, definitely one of the greenest cities we've ever been other tourists we talked to reported exactly the same thing. Who knows if this feeling is as widespread as it seemed or if those who talk to foreigners are more inclined than others to dislike the government, but either way it was certainly an eye opener and a good counter to the image we are often presented of Iran as a nation full of religious fanatics.
Similarly, walking around Tehran and just about everywhere else we went, we were constantly struck at how Iranian women seemed to be pushing the limits of what constitutes having your head covered (as they are legally required to do at all times in public). The majority of women we saw (admitedly we spent most of our time in cities and touristed areas) exposed large, generally dyed or elaborately styled, fringes and many had hair sticking out the back as well. Many women also complained to us (again without encouragement from ourselves) about how they hated having to keep their hair covered. Most dreaded of all was the chador, basically a black shapeless sheet that some women are required to drape over their heads and bodies (not their faces though). You'd see women constantly
fidgeting with it and often using their teeth to hold it in place. Ridiculous, no wonder so many of them hate it.
Oh yeah, the driving. Stupidly, ludicrously death defying at every turn. You'd think that having come thru the middle east (and grown up in NZ) we'd be used to perfectly pleasant people turning into total muppets once they get behind the wheel but nothing can prepare you for how bad the drivers are in Iran. Reversing at speed into oncoming traffic down a one way street, overtaking with convoys of rusting lorries bearing down on you from teh other direction (and ending up on the outside of those lorries before weaving back into traffic going your way), accelerating to overtake around tight (and blind) corners with a deep chasm awaiting you should the guy you've foolishly agreed to pay to get you from A to B in one piece prove to be not quite as Schumacher like as he thinks he is.....I could go on. The drivers, generally being very nice guys (always guys, never women), perform these complex high speed manouvers with broad grins on their faces unless, of course, you should insult their manhood by
reaching for the seatbelt, which is generally a waste of time anyway as it has invariably been surgically removed to avoid the possibilty of besmirching their reputation.
The TV needs a quick comment as well. I undertand most Iranians watch far more illegal satellite TV than they do their own stuff, and it's not hard to see why. It seemed to us that it was a case of prayers and/or religious discussion on most channels most of the time, except, of course, when a documentary reliving the war intervenes. Actually, that's not entirely fair as we also came across a few American movies (generally old) and, believe it or not, the odd episode of Yes, Prime Minister (dubbed). The English language news was "interesting" as well, plenty of coverage of outrages and misdemenours, major or minor, enacted by anyone vaguely associated with the "arrogant imperialist governments of the enemy".....obviously no need to be too inventive there then.
But despite the driving, the food (KP had something to say about that in a previous blog), some of the "difficult to relate to" religious practices and, even, the TV we enjoyed our time in Iran immensely. There is loads to
Iman Mosque, Esfahan
Crap photo (especially when it's been downsized for the internet) of one of the most beautiful buildings on the planet. see, it's cheap and easy to get around and, as we've been stressing throughout, the people are outrageously friendly. If we get the chance we'd go back at the drop of a hat.
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Jing
non-member comment
Beer, non-alchoholic in Iran???
When are you both due back in MY?