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Published: July 12th 2006
Ararat!
Our first glimpse of the towering giant that would dominate the sky for days.So we stayed in Van longer than planned, trying to make sure our bikes were in full working order before we crossed to Iran. With only 21 days on our visa we did not want to have to make any unsheduled stops. Thanks to Bush, Blair & the “war on terror” it is also impossible to use foreign cards in the numerous ATMs in Iran or to cash travellers cheques - in fact all international banking is closed. Our only option was to stock up on dollars - perversely despite the US financial embargo and the depiction of the USA as the “Great Satan”, US dollars are the only way to go in Iran! Once we had all this sorted we just needed to decide which road to take from Turkey into Iran. One option goes north past Mount Ararat and through the main crossing point - it is longer and we had been warned the road would be busy with trucks and other traffic. The second option goes south, through remote mountain passes and would probably save us time once in Iran, and would be quieter and more beautiful, at least so we had been told. The problem with
Pile of shite....
With no trees around this is the main type of fuel in Eastern Turkey this route would be the high military presence on the Turkish side and possibly more encounters with Turkish soldiers trying to protect us from terrorists - something we were not to keen to repeat. We couldn’t decide so we flipped a coin - Ataturk’s head came up and we figured this meant we should go north (though don’t ask me why….)
We finally set off from Van but not on the straight road north along the lake. We spotted a short cut on the map that would take us through the hills and past another, freshwater lake, before re-joining the main road. We had a lovely cycle to Ercek Lake and saw some good birds and lots of terrapins beside the lake. However the short cut over the hills was seriously character building. The track went straight up and got rougher and rougher as we climbed. We have seen better looking footpaths in the mountains of Scotland than the set of tyre tracks that set off in front of us. However the views back were amazing and the sun was dazzling. The blue of the lake below and the snow topped mountains to the south made our hearts soar.
Yellow!
Only the alpine flowers break the black of the volcanic rocks and the white of the snow fields Finally we made it over the hill and found a really nice hidden and quiet valley full of Kurdish villages and a winding river. The houses all had strange conical formations beside them. On closer inspection we realised that these cones were in fact made from animal dung and that a whole complicated process of dung drying was taking place around every house, including building all the walls of a farm yard with dried dung. The dung is obviosly a vital fuel, since there are no trees around at all in these parts.
We had climbed quite high but the temperature did not really drop at night as it had been such a hot day and we found ourselves still sweating our way up hill at 7.30pm as it was getting dark. We pulled off the road and found somewhere to camp but the ground was alive with buzzing. It was a strange phenomenon of night bees. We have no idea why (perhaps it was to do with the full moon) but for about 45 minutes after the sun had set the bees were everywhere and the ground looked like it was moving in the dark below our feet.
Just as strangly the bees all just stopped at once and the place went very quiet.
We really enjoyed the rough ride downhill the next day back to the shores of Lake Van and the views to the massive volcano to its northern shore. We headed north on the main road to Muradiye and had lunch beside its famous waterfall. The road then climbed slowly along the river and the valleys started to get biggger and bigger. The scenery was fantastic; wide open grazed valleys with the lines of hills running far off at the side and the blue sky clear overhead. The road was not too busy at all and the gradient was pleasanat enough. We pulled off the main road at Serpetmas lava field to have a look for some rare birds and have a cup of tea. The black lava flow was very strange and I could not think of a more lifeless place on the planet. There were barely any plants there nevermind birds, and unsurprisingly Robin did not find anything and I did not even try looking as the short incursion I made intothe lava to find a loo spot convinced me that my
already disintergrating shoes would not last the walk out again.
We cycled on, the road was flat and fast and had entered a high, wide open plateau between two lines of hills. We were fast making progress around the side of a 3000 metre plus volcanoe and the line of hills far to our right separated us from Iran. We got water from a standpipe at a village and watched the local women washing sheeps’ fleeces, sheets and clothes in a freezing stream with their bare feet. They were very amused by us but we were just as interested in their strength of character too, since their feet must have been totally numb. Robin asked one of them in Turkish if the water was cold, she just laughed and cackled back in a way that we decided proabably meant she thought we didn’t know the meaning of the word.
That night I was getting nervous that there was nowhere around to camp as the scenery was so open to the road and this was a main road. We always try to be hidden from the road when we camp and I was thinking that we were going to
Another great shortcut.....
And this is down as a road on the map! have to ask to camp beside one of the farm houses. This is always a last option since although the house would give a bit more security from passing traffic it is very rare that the people would actually allow us to camp. People round here would probably engulf us with hospitailty and generousity once they found out we are foreigners, this is amazing but it feels very wrong to accept it, when you have purposely gone up to the house. Also sometimes we are just too tired to be polite guests and just want to eat and sleep. This night however, Robin spotted a good spot just as it was getting dark, some vehicle tracks went off the roadside into a small patch of soft, flat green grass amongst all the rough, razor sharp lava flows. The stars were totally amazing but soon blotted out by an almost full moon which meant we could cook outside the tent without needing to use our torches.
We were woken in the morning by cattle munching away beside the tent. The day was bright and clear again and the scenery and hills totally amazing. If the southern route to Iran really
Offroadin'
Somewhere well off the map between Van and Muradiye..... is more beautiful than this road then it really must be something. Once back on the main road we began slowly climbing again, with various military posts and watchtowers high on the hills to our east suggesting we were already very close to the Iranian border. The road wound back and forth gently higher up the side of the hills and the high snow-capped volcano we had seen yesterday began to loom closer and closer. Then we rounded another bend to arrive at the top of the pass - 2644m high! We had no idea we had climbed so high and were now on the shoulder of this same volcano. We stopped for a rest and to marvel at the views across the snow and lava fields before setting off down the northern side. The road dropped gently but fast at first and we were soon joined by an enormous golden eagle that breifly soared alongside - it was amazing to be flying down the mountainside on our bikes with this huge bird gliding a few hundred metres away at the same pace and height as us. Then we rounded another bend and screeched to a halt. In front of
us stood something totally spectacular - Mt. Ararat. It was truly enormous and even from our altitutde totally dwarfed all of the surrounding mountians and hills -an enormous snow covered volcanic cone that seemed to reach up to the very top of the sky. Neither of us had ever seen anything like it, Erika simply exclaimed “Allah Akbar” in wonder. The mountain would dominate every view for the next few days, and as we dropped steeply down and down towards the town of Dogubayazit it only seemed to grow taller. We arrived in town at midday and the road surface instantly deteriorated. The town seems to comprise only low breezeblock buildings that nobdy has bothered to finish properly. It has an air of being conscious that oneday it will proabably be completely and utterly destroyed by the monster that looms over it.
Our plan was to make a quick dash up the hill to Isak Pasa palace for a picnic lunch, then to push on towards the border and camp before crossing early the next day. The unsurfaced track up the hill was rough, long and steep and hard work in the afternoon heat and we arived at the
Amazing Scenery
Makes it hard not to keep to stopping all the time, and this was suposed to be the 'less beautiful' road! palace later then palnned and exhausted. We were then greeted by some local kids lobbing sizeable rocks at us from high up on a rocky bluff above the track. I had actually thought it was a genuine rockfall until one of them hit Erika and she started to scream curses up at them. This only seemed to encourage them and I saw totally red. I dropped my bike and flew up the cliff, half running, half scrambling up the steep scree and rock towards them. Breathless and slighlty dizzy I reached their ledge to see the last of them disappear through a hole in the mountain looking completely shit-scared and somwhat amazed that I had got there so fast. Its probably just as well I didn’t manage to catch any of them as I hadn’t really thought out what I was going to do and dangling them over the edge was probably not such a good idea with hindsight! They tried to hide by an older man who made some theatre of giving them a slap and a shout, I was not convinved and would have hit them a lot harder. They plodded off down the slope on the other
Top of Turkey
Every day we seem to break the altitude record we set yesterday........ side and then when they thought they were a safe distance starting making rude gestures back up at me. Well if they had never seen anyone run up a cliff so fast I bet they never saw anyone come down so quickly either! Once they were cornered at the top of the car park area we sat down to rest and enjoy our lunch - I was now totally knackered but intent on getting a photo of them as they could not leave the area without passing us first - I would then give this photo to the local police. They probably figured it was harmless fun, and no real harm was done, but if they had hit either of us in the head from that height we would have been seriously injured or worse. They manged to escape without passing us so I never did get a photo, but maybe they will not feel so safe doing something like that again.
By the time we had finished our picnic it was late afternoon already so we decided to stay in the campsite just below the palace. Erika manged to grab a lift down the hill to buy some
Isak Pasa Palace
In the hills above Dogubayazit - the last town in Turkey. food and we spent the evening chatting to some German guys riding motorbikes overland to Vietnam. Isak Pasa palace is perched high on some rocky hills above Dogubayazit, looking across to Mount Ararat, and was built by a local Kurdish cheiftain.
It is also famous among overlanders as the last stop before Iran (or the first coming out of Iran) and therefore the last place to enjoy a beer for a long time….. With hardly any Turkish lira left on us this was not really an option for us though.
Our plan to set off early the next day went wrong when we slept later than planned and then even more wrong when the campsite staff couldn’t find the key for the shed we had locked our bikes in! We got down to town at the time we had hoped to be at the Iranian border and set off on the main road. After 3km Erika had to stop beacause of problems with her bike - the bottom bracket was making some very nasty noises indeed. We decided to go back to town and eventually found a bike shop and a mechaninc who knew how to remove it. Basically
Hills above Isak Pasa Palace
The fortifications on the cliff to the left of the track are where we were attacked by stone throwing children. it was a little bit loose and totally full of dust and dirt. Once cleaned and re-greased and put back together it was fine. It was also now lunchtime. I decided to get mine cleaned and re-greased too, though it was not as bad as Erika’s. The whole thing took nearly 2 hours but the guys gave us free tea and were most amused when their friend arrived saying “good morning” and I replied in Kurdish. They then asked which Turkish football team we supported - I said Diyarbakir Spor and they loved this too. We didn’t have to pay for any of the repairs! We figured there was no point crossing to Iran this late in the day as it would just waste the first day of our visa, so we went back up the hill to the campsite below the palace. The place was now totally overun with a convoy of enormous french campervans, all headed to Iran on a tour. We pitched up next to a dutch family in a cute little van and soon made friends with them, especially when they offered us a cold beer! We ended up having dinner with them in their van
Up in the Air
Robin perches high in the hills above Dogubayazit looking back at Turkey. and also sharing a bottle of Turkish wine, none of which helped with the planned early start the next day, though it was very nice all the same.
We woke in the morning and decided to stay again, and went for long but easy walk in the hills above the palace, enjoying great views across to Ararat. Our dutch friends were replaced by a Catalan couple in a landrover heading down to Jordan, and we spent another evening chatting to them. Next day we did manage an early start though and in full sunshine sped downhill to town and turned right towards Iran. The road was big and wide but empty with only the odd truck passing us every now and then. The road cut across a flat plain around the base of Mount Ararat and then climbed slightly towards the customs post. Once we sighted a big line of trucks ahead we stopped to change - I swopped my t-shirt for a long sleeved shirt and Erika had to put on a headscarf, something she would not be able to remove in public from now on. Excited, nervous and a bit apprehensive we pedaled through the lines of
The Road to Iran
Erika on the way past Ararat, clad in hijab in preparation for the border. trucks and up to the border post.
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alienrage
non-member comment
it was about fuckin time, i was worried! yesterday i told some friends about yo trip and, really, i was worried if u iz ok! good luck, write mo' often