Yazd

Our best city GPS ahead of Anthony - we're just 1' away from the hotel now

Our best city GPS ahead of Anthony – we’re just 1′ away from the hotel now

We set off from our beautiful hotel, which was formally a 180 year old house with three courtyards and endless rooms off them, to see the sights of Yazd.

Our hotel in Yazd - the Laleh

Our hotel in Yazd – the Laleh

Rather than take the main roads which form large rectangular blocks, we will navigate the smaller lane ways towards the centre of the old city. We start confidently, but are soon surrounded by collapsed and derelict mud brick buildings. More interestingly, they are on multiple levels, abandoned courtyards below and ruined buildings above. Given the flat nature of the terrain, there must have been significant excavation to create these courtyards. Could this have happened at the same time as the water storage facilities were dug? The large size of the houses, and the upkeep required may have led to their abandonment over time. An additional impediment to keeping these buildings would be the installation of modern services such as sewerage, piped water and electricity.

Backstreets on our way to Yazd city centre

Backstreets on our way to Yazd city centre

Back on track, we emerge into the busy centre of Yazd. Here, many more women are dressed all in black, unlike in Tehran and Esfahan. Are the smaller cities more conservative or is it due to the fact we are moving towards the Baluchi region of Iran? As we set off for the Mosques on Anne’s itinerary, we see for the first time the local bread making process in action. The video, posted below, shows how the pebble marked effect is created in a two step process. In the first step, the dough is hand thrown onto a round cushion like object that has raised knobs which would have been pebbles in older times, then the resulting pizza base like bread is tipped off the cushion onto a circular metal plate that is rotating the bread to be cooked both into and out of the oven. As each piece is finished, it is quality checked and placed on a wooden rack, but they are gone in a flash. People buy up to 20 at a time for meals at home, so the bakery production line of five people runs flat out just to keep up with demand. We are offered a a piece, Anne suggests we take a reject, because of a small hole in one part. It’s delicious, bread that was baked in the last 30 seconds.. The cheerful banter with each other and us, seeing the process in front of my eyes, these are the type of experiences I enjoy while travelling.

Queue outside our favourite bread shop, Yazd, Iran

Queue outside our favourite bread shop, Yazd, Iran

In the bazaar, we find the usual types of shops seen elsewhere, but we note very little foodstuffs sold in the bazaars we have visited previously, while there are many varieties of clothing, spices, jewellery and hardware all mixed up.

The food tends to be on the streets here or in specific areas of the bazaar. This does not always apply to spice shops whose presence we detect as the smell of delicious spices. While most spices are sold separately there is always a large bowl that contains layered spices, 16 in all that is used in Chicken dishes. I must say that the best food we have tasted in each city has predominately been the home cooking of our friends and their families.

16 spices for chicken, Yazd, Iran

16 spices for chicken, Yazd, Iran

We encounter a new type of shop that just provides filling for pillows and cushions. You bring the inner linings and choose the quality softness and volume you want and you pay by the weight. We have noticed so many young children, but have not seen any pregnant women. Is this because loose outer clothing hides this from us, or do they not venture out in the later stages of pregnancy?

Select your preferred pillow stuffing, Yazd bazar, Iran

Select your preferred pillow stuffing, Yazd bazar, Iran

Then weigh your pillow stuffing selection, Yazd bazar, Iran

Then weigh your pillow stuffing selection, Yazd bazar, Iran

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anne is intent on finding and photographing the highest minarets and wind towers in Yazd. The only problem is that they all seem similar to the pictures we have seen and all about the same height.

Amir Chakhmaq Complex, Yazd, Iran

Amir Chakhmaq Complex, Yazd, Iran

Jameh mosque, with the tallest minarets in Iran - Yazd, Iran

Jameh mosque, with the tallest minarets in Iran – Yazd, Iran

As we scour the lanes and alleyways moving from dark covered to light uncovered sections, always surrounded by dried mud brick walls, the city sounds fade to be replaced by silence and the occasional sound of a motorcycle navigating its way towards us – or is it away from us? It reminds me if those movies where the director uses the fading light, narrow lane ways and the sound of footsteps to show the hero/heroine is being followed, with of course the appropriate music.

Covered winding street in the old town, Yazd, Iran

Covered winding street in the old town, Yazd, Iran

In the old town, we come across many traditional doors. They have 2 door knockers. One is long and narrow, the other round. They make different sounds and are designed to tell the inhabitants whether a male or female is at the door so that the right person opens it. You can guess which is the male or female knocker…

Traditional door with male and female knockers, Iran

Traditional door with male and female knockers, Iran

We meet in the fading light another German speaker, running an antiques shop after his lifetime in Germany. Anne’s German comes into play again, although he does speak good English. He advises that while the city is generally safe, wondering the unlit lane-ways at night for tourists has led to incidents. Good advice which we heed.

We found this great fresh baked cake and biscuit shop. We can buy four single cakes or biscuits for about 30 cents. We have been back twice in one day and our waistlines will grow if we stay here too long. Almost across the road is this great store selling pots and pans. Anyone who has a wedding gift to buy could do no worse than get the 10ft high matching pot and pan set. Might need an adjustment to the kitchen cupboard, but a great gift that covers all numbers of visitors for lunch, dinner or any occasion.

Household pots, Yazd, iran

Household pots, Yazd, iran

Our second day started with a visit to the Zoroastrian ‘Towers of Silence’ where bodies were placed after death, not before, to have the bones picked clean by vultures. This practice was stopped some 70 years ago, so no vultures circle overhead while you climb to the top of the towers in the hot sun. We did see black and white pigeon at the top of the male tower, a vulture reincarnated perhaps? While the city of Yazd has encroached towards the towers, they are still surrounded by a dry desolate environment, with no sounds of birds or other wildlife, just the breeze blowing around us as we sat in a contemplative mood at the top of the men’s tower, which of course is higher than the woman’s tower, but has a gentler ascent. Anne wants all of you to know she walked up both towers, me just the tallest and easiest one.

Zoroastrian Towers of Silence, Yazd, Iran

Zoroastrian Towers of Silence, Yazd, Iran

Wind towers above a water reservoir near the Towers of Silence, Yazd, Iran

Wind towers above a water reservoir near the Towers of Silence, Yazd, Iran

Zoroastrian symbol

Zoroastrian symbol

Steps into the female Tower of Silence, Yazd, Iran

Steps into the female Tower of Silence, Yazd, Iran

View from the male Tower of Silence toward the female one, Yazd, Iran

View from the male Tower of Silence toward the female one, Yazd, Iran

View from the Towers of Silence, towards Yazd, Iran

View from the Towers of Silence, towards Yazd, Iran

This was also the day that blog writing returned with a vengeance. We had both been suffering from writer’s block, which we have heard happens to writers but not experienced ourselves. So many great people and experiences in the last 10 days that I think it was all to much for our minds to organise and document coherently for the blog. This afternoon we both found that the words just flowed, hopefully readable to all of you who follow us. We were able to make up ground, we had become concerned if we leave writing for too long that we forget details and sequences. An afternoon well spent, along with a couple of naps for me in the process.

We met a charming Brazilian couple staying at our hotel. They are not only visiting Iran, but Lebanon and Jordan. Jordan we have wished to visit over the years, but the opportunity has never eventuated. The variety of countries represented we meet while travelling is ever growing, interestingly earlier this year during the peak season in Yazd, 60% of the hotel guests were Italian, rather than the usual Chinese, Koreans and Japanese. I wonder what drives the interest in Iran from different cultures from year to year?

A visit to the water museum was fascinating and informative, but left us with more questions than when we went in. The clever use of hand built underground canals or ‘qanats’ as they are called here would take water from the foothills into towns where storage reservoirs were constructed underground with flights of steps leading down to where water can be collected. Larger houses may have had direct access to water from a qanat. This to would have entailed excavation work and due to the coolness of both water and earth, food storage areas were also built. Wind towers dot the city landscape, used to remove hot air from the vicinity of the water. A complete planned water delivery system. The nature of construction was difficult and dangerous and the workers chose to wear white to work so if they were killed, and probably entombed, they would be buried in a white shroud. Today in the larger cities, this supply system has been replaced by piped water, but the domed brick storage tanks and wind towers dot the city landscape, a testament to an ingenious and clever way to manage water supply just using gravity feed in a harsh environment where every drop of water counts.

We round off our stay with an late afternoon visit to the Bagh-e Dolat Abad gardens containing the tallest Badgir or wind tower in Iran. Like many of the sights in Iran, it is down a couple of back streets and through a nondescript archway in a mud brick wall, postmarked with the scrapes of passing trucks and cars. Inside are acres of gardens filled with buildings and the imposing bagdir or wind tower, some 60 meters high. We are able to enter the building at the base of the wind tower and look up inside the construction to see the way it has been built looking like the segments of an orange. The bagdirs are designed to catch slight breezes from up to eight directions and direct them down over a pond of water creating an evaporative cooling system. We have been singularly impressed with the care and maintenance that has been given to all the gardens we have seen except this one. Weeds cover a good portion of the landscape and creepers have overwhelmed trees in other areas. Any disappointment was swept away by the views of the tower from among the pomegranate trees.

Dolat Abad with Iran's  tallest Bagdir, Yazd, iran

Dolat Abad with Iran’s tallest Bagdir, Yazd, iran

Under Dolat Abad's bagdir (wind tower), Yazd, Iran

Under Dolat Abad’s bagdir (wind tower), Yazd, Iran

Looking up one of the 'segments' of Dolat Abad's bagdir, Yazd, Iran

Looking up one of the ‘segments’ of Dolat Abad’s bagdir, Yazd, Iran

A pomegranate orchard surrounds Dolat Abad, Yazd, Iran

A pomegranate orchard surrounds Dolat Abad, Yazd, Iran

No taxis were to be seen for our return to the hotel. A gentlemen of uncertain age, with a car of even more uncertain age and adorned with many dents and scrapes stopped for us. He could not speak English and did not know where the hotel was. Through sign language, we indicated we could direct him. The journey was interesting as I contemplated from time to time what I would look like after impacting the windscreen, seat belts being an optional extra, but with the good graces of the other drivers we arrived in one piece looking forward to being back on the bikes tomorrow.

Dinner, packing and off to Kerman.

– Anthony

Ride to Behshahr

After a wonderfully quiet night at our camping spot (and relieved our strange observers from last night didn’t return), we pack up and head back up the tiny mountain road back to the main road.

Our first full day day in Iran! I am so excited to be in Iran! Really excited. I have heard so many good things about Iran, especially about Iranians and their hospitality, and having made friends with some Iranians in Brisbane, I am looking forward to seeing a couple of them again and meeting their families. It is strange to me to be in a country where I can’t read the local language. Thank goodness most road signs are both in Farsi and English.

Glad the road and mountainside signs are in English too - Iran

Glad the road and mountainside signs are in English too – Iran

The scenery is stunning and raw – ever changing majestic mountains, elevated wide valleys, sun burnt rolling hills, rivers and little green oasis dotting the dry landscape. It seems like we have been riding downhill forever. The roads are relatively quiet until we start getting to villages and traffic starts to build.

Heading south from Dor Badam, Iran

Heading south from Dor Badam, Iran

Two things strike us immediately: drivers and rubbish. The driving style here is different yet again and the most nerve racking to date (as I re-read this, we have seen nothing yet and there is worse to come). Still no apparent appreciation of on-coming traffic, distance & speed but now they come alongside you, extremely close and travel while trying to have a conversation with you or just taking photos. If there are a few inches between them and you, it is several inches too much and they come closer. Once they’re done, they drive in front of you, cutting you up and forcing you to brake. More often than not, once in front of you, they’ll pull over slightly but blocking your lane and stop. Coming up behind you is as if they are in a terrible hurry, sitting on your tail, then they overtake extremely slowly and carry on driving at the same speed as you were before, but now they are a couple of metres closer to their destination. Very strange and in traffic, it definitely keeps you on your toes so to speak!! Thank goodness Streak and Storm have the power to get you out of trouble. Sometimes, it is the only way, open up and get away, until the next traffic jam. And traffic can come towards you from all directions, literally. I have to admit I have not enjoyed the riding here one bit. It is slow because of the traffic jams and extremely tiring, requiring our utmost concentration, yet we can’t afford to loose our nerve, or we’ll never get anywhere.

Our biggest surprise is the amount of rubbish. While we were struck at how impeccably clean each village, house, road side, and even small back street in towns and villages in Uzbekistan were, here, the road side is littered with rubbish. We have seen people throwing large bottles, dirty socks, and all sorts of rubbish out of car windows, or dropping plastic bags full onto the side of the road. Yet, they must enjoy the scenery and nature or they wouldn’t travel that far and for so many hours. It reminds me of outback Australia. Some things we see, others we don’t… We wonder whether this is a reflection on how Iranians feel about their country…

Anyway, back to our ride towards Behshahr. We stop at a road side cafe and Anthony orders us a great lunch of chicken kebabs, rice with saffron and pomegranate – delicious. We continue riding, downhill some more, then suddenly, we are running along side a river. We could be riding through European country side – the trees have created a lovely archway over the road. We would love to camp somewhere there but every single piece of land is either taken with large family groups having meals, or it is covered in rubbish.

Beautiful road from Chesmeh to Tang Rah, before Minu Dasht, Iran

Beautiful road from Chesmeh to Tang Rah, before Minu Dasht, Iran


Pick your type and size of fruit paste - apricot was delicious

Pick your type and size of fruit paste – apricot was delicious


She wanted a photo of me with my bike, I said she could sit on my bike, she shouted 'I love you' and we embraced.  Look at her husband in the mirror!

She wanted a photo of me with my bike, I said she could sit on my bike, she shouted ‘I love you’ and we embraced. Look at her husband in the mirror!

Cooling rain shower coming into Minu Dasht, Iran

Cooling rain shower coming into Minu Dasht, Iran

Glorious lighting after the rain shower  coming into Minu Dasht

Glorious lighting after the rain shower coming into Minu Dasht

By the time we get to Minu Dasht, 408 kms from our overnight stop, we are totally exhausted. Hot and tired. Our timing is impeccable as we had just had some hail, strong winds and rain, not too much rain but within 5′ of our finding a hotel room, the heavens opened up – we would have been completely soaked within a minute the rain is so heavy. Our luck continues…

An Iranian friend from Brisbane, Afrooz, is visiting her parents and she has invited us to have lunch with them all at Behshahr. She send me her address in English and Farsi so as we got to the outskirts of Behshahr we can show it to a local for directions. To check it will be legible for someone to read and guide us, I show it to the hotel receptionist who doesn’t quite know what I’m asking. A customer in the lobby overhears me and asks me whether I speak German! Yes, German again!

We only have 200 kms to do between Minu Dasht and Behshahr, but based on our traffic experience the previous day, we give ourselves 4 hours. We stop on the edge of Behshahr and ask a taxi to show us the way. A moped stops and we ask him if he will show us the way and we’ll pay him. There is no way we would have found Afrooz’s parents’ home otherwise. The problem with the Garmin gps (and maps) is that English spelling is phonetic and therefore, the spelling can vary greatly!! And if your spelling isn’t exactly like the Garmin’s, tough luck, no similar option is given.

We arrive at Afrooz’s home. We are both very excited to see each other again. Afrooz asks if we want to take our luggage up but we don’t need anything as we are only staying for lunch. Oh no you’re not, you’re spending the night!! We are?? Of course, why not we thought. That was the first of many surprises Afrooz had in store for us. When I had asked her advice on where she should go in Iran, and she had sent me a message months ago saying, “don’t worry while in Iran, I will arrange everything”, I had no idea to what extent things were going to be arranged for us!

We are shown to our bedroom. We find out the next day that she has given up her bed and slept on the floor to give us her room. Afrooz asks if we want to do some washing. After that 4 hour ride this morning, our clothes are sodden and I very happily throw our jeans etc into the washing machine – no hand washing today, wonderful!! A feast has been prepared for our arrival, and Afrooz’s brother and sister-in-law join us too. The hospitality we are shown once again is wonderful. We are introduced to Iranian and local specialities and fresh fish! We eat so much!! After lunch, Anthony and Afrooz’s parents take a nap while Afrooz and I chat.

At 5.30, we head into Behshahr for a few things that Afrooz has organised or thought of for us. First though is a visit to the skin specialist as I have a couple of things that need checking out (having had an SCC and a BCC removed, I am extra careful and wanted them seen to asap). Thanks to Afrooz’s contacts, we get an urgent appointment. On examination, everything is fine and only one thing needs to be dealt with, more for my own comfort and as the specialist has run out of freezing material, he will burn it off. I am in his hands and feel as comfortable as one can be when a procedure is about to be performed. The disconcerting part was when he opened all the window wide open!!! Haha, it will smell bad!! I ask how long it will take. 2′. I can cope with that. One anesthetic injection, some burning, patting down, more burning etc, cream and bandaids and I can get dressed again. He returns to his desk and in comes a salesman selling his wares while I am getting dressed and putting my top back on in the open surgical room behind. Oh well… Once dressed, we wait for the salesman to finish and the skin specialist writes me out some prescriptions. The visit and procedure cost a whole $20. Off to the pharmacy then off to get a local sim card with data so that we can get internet access and hopefully finally upload photos to our blog.

What a complicated process: Afrooz needs to go somewhere to get a photocopy of her ID. She returns to the telco and forms are filled out, which she signs and has to have her finger printed!!! We have to go somewhere else to get the card cut: more forms, signature and fingerprinting. Then we find out that the new sim won’t be activated for a couple of days. On advice from a friend, we repeat the process the following day to get another, but different sim card, for telephone access only. While waiting outside those various telco offices, Anthony takes a video of how traffic works at traffic lights here – you will be amazed!


Afrooz shows us around Behshahr. The view from the pedestrian overpass is interesting – we get a really good view of the forested hills and also the traffic. We see in the distance, on the side of the hill, the secret spying observatory the US used during the cold war, up to the revolution in 1979. We walk through the beautiful Mellat park that was founded 400 years ago (called Bagh e Shah before the revolution), and where the last Shah had a palace. After the revolution, the government took over the palace and turned it into government offices. The view from the old palace takes us, in a dead straight line, all the way down the park, through Behshahr and up to the Caspian sea. Very impressive.
Beautiful Mellat park in Beshahr with beautiful Afrooz

Beautiful Mellat park in Beshahr with beautiful Afrooz


Behshahr is so well located, between the dense fir and pomegranate forest and mountains, and pretty close to the cool Caspian sea. We didn’t have the time or the energy to explore the forest, but we have seen photos of the most stunning waterfalls. Next time… Time for a cooling ice cream, a visit through the local fresh local produce market and we return home for dinner.
Afrooz and Anthony enjoying their ice cream - I love the guy behind them!!!

Afrooz and Anthony enjoying their ice cream – I love the guy behind them!!!


For dinner, the whole family takes us to one of the local parks, Abbas Abad park, up the mountain, a thick pomegranate forest with a lake in the centre of it, and an old fort built across the lake. It is 9pm and the park is teaming with groups of families having a picnic. We go to a restaurant, sit outside in traditional Iranian style – sitting on a carpet covered platform with comfortable cushions in our backs. Well, we tried to sit as they did, but our bodies are not used to this way of sitting, so after a while Anthony and I ended up sitting with our legs outstretched right across the dining table, table cloth and in between dishes!! They were all very understanding. The food was delicious but by now, my stomach is crying ‘enough’!! After dinner, we go for a walk along the lake, hear the history of this park which was saved thanks to Afrooz’s brother.
Dinner at Abbas Abad park with Afrooz's family, Beshahr

Dinner at Abbas Abad park with Afrooz’s family, Beshahr


We sleep really soundly. We are treated to a full cooked breakfast, with home made jams. We have a lovely lazy morning. The three of us, Afrooz, Anthony and I all working on either iPads or PCs for about 4 hours. I tear my hair out with the Indian Visa application again – yes, déja vu… But the application I prepared in Bishkek for pickup in Tashkent was just that, for Tashkent and for a certain day that was long past. We had originally thought we’d try again in Tehran but on reflection, decided to apply in Dubai instead, just in case we get the same issue of the local consulate only being able to provide visas for 1 month. At least, the visa application will be completed and ready to submit in Dubai. Afrooz made several calls on our behalf to Bander Abbas to find out about shipping our bikes to Dubai, which was extremely useful.

For lunch, lunch? More food?! Afrooz thought we might like some food we are familiar with from back home, so we are offered roast chicken, peas, carrots. So thoughtful!!!

Thank goodness for afternoon naps. Even I succumb when I don’t normally sleep during the day. I am surprised that I’ve slept 1.5 hours in the middle of the day but Anthony reminds me that we had been riding the bikes every day for the past 7 days. That’s true. Now I understand! We’ve mentioned it before, but it has surprised us how much the riding of the bikes has taken out of us. We keep being reminded that we are not so young anymore and maybe riding bikes is a little more tiring than we had expected – especially in the searing heat!! The important thing is to pace ourselves and listen to our bodies. That’s when the ‘luxury’ accommodation when we are not camping or staying in the odd village guesthouse is very welcome.

Today has been a lovely lazy day. We stay indoors, chatting all afternoon before heading out to Afrooz’s brother for a bbq dinner. We meet Afrooz’s grandmother. What a character!! I loved how she asked what she felt like asking. What is your religion? Do you pray? Why do we live the way we do? Why did you not come and visit me today? Oops!! My goodness, what a feast again. And that dip Rohane made, baghela ghatogh – I will be making that one when we have a home again!!

3 gorgeous ladies - Afrooz, her mum and grandmum -  Behshahr

3 gorgeous ladies – Afrooz, her mum and grandmum – Behshahr

At Afrooz's brother Babak and his wife Reihaneh for dinner - Behshahr

At Afrooz’s brother Babak and his wife Reihaneh for dinner – Behshahr


Once home, we once again desperately try to upload photos to our blog. We can say that this has been one almighty frustration for the past 10 days. I eventually give up at 2am…

The next morning, I find Afrooz is already on the phone to Bander Abbas for us again. Time for us to pack now as we will be leaving, 2 days after we first arrived for lunch!! How can we show our appreciation for all that Afrooz and her family have done for us??? The flowers which Anthony buys while out doing errands with Afrooz (while I pack the panniers) do not do justice to how we feel, but that is the best we can do right now. We’ve loved every minute, I’ve enjoyed learning the odd word in Farsi, speaking a bit of French with Afrooz’s parents, sharing jokes with them, learning about the culture, hearing how things have changed since the revolution and simply sharing family life with them. One last lunch (another feast with the best ‘hashbrowns’ I’ve ever had) before heading west along the Caspian coast. Leaving at 2pm, while the hottest part of the day, is also the quietest as most people take a nap between 2 and 4pm. We leave with a traditional farewell custom of throwing water towards the departing guests to make sure they return one day.

One of the many things Afrooz has done for us, and the most touching of all: she contacted all her friends and told them about us, our trip, our bikes, our upcoming anniversary to see who might be in a position to help in any way. Unbelievable! One of her friends contacted one of his friends and we have been offered full use of her family luxury villa for a couple of days, just outside Tehran. He is also going to arrange a place for us to do the oil change our bikes need now, having done 11000 kms since we left. People we don’t know and haven’t met doing all those things for us is very touching and humbling…

– Anne

Leaving Khiva for Turkmenistan

We learnt today, 17 August, of the passing in Brisbane of our good friend Keith. We have known Keith and Olivia since we moved to Brisbane in 1989, by frequenting the Oriental Bangkok Thai Restaurant in Spring Hill. Keith and Olivia enhanced our limited knowledge of Thai cuisine and Australian red wine in those early days in Australia. A friendship grew from those days and has continued ever since. Keith, we will miss your stories, your humour and the twinkle in your eye. To Olivia, Kelly and Kim, our heartfelt condolences, and our thoughts are with you in this difficult time.

It is hard being away from loved ones when they have been ill, or in hospital… We continue our discoveries with a heavy heart…

(Post updated 19/9/14 with photos)

Khiva was a complete surprise to me. I had done no research, leaving that to Anne, so was initially under the false assumption that we were to see a city of ruins. What a wonderful revelation. As we walked the paved streets, among the buildings and walls, the sellers of sunglasses, toys, food and souvenirs made me realise that nothing had changed here in hundreds of years, only the products being sold. We would like to stay longer but we are already a day into our five day Turkmenistan transit visa, so we need to move on.

We now had to reach the Turkmenistan border some 70-80 kms away. The crossing we had selected was less frequented so we hoped for a quicker crossing with less traffic. An hour later, following the GPS route, we are looking at an earth barrier across the road, and surrounded by Uzbekistan soldiers from the adjacent army border post. No sign of customs or immigration here! Wrong Way Go Back? Err no!! We are now caught up in some army admin. process and cannot leave – they speak no English, so we must wait. We manage to hold onto our passports at first, but when lunchtime comes, the soldiers realise that if they take our passports, they do not need to leave anyone outside. It is never good to be separated from your passport – the power to leave has transferred to someone else and you are now dependent on their actions.

We spend time watching kids play, sheep eating, and soldiers wandering in and out to look at the bikes. All attempts at communication are met with sign language we take to mean just five minutes more. We give the children some Australia kangaroo stickers, and later they return with lovely fresh tomatoes for us.

The arrival of a policeman means we can leave with him and the resulting army paperwork and our passports which he holds onto to find an government interpreter back in the last village. We know we have done nothing wrong, but still have no idea why we had to wait for three hours. We are then told by the interpreter, ‘no problems, we have done nothing wrong and we can go’, once again in German, our strange language of communication which seems to pop up in places on this trip. Many German speakers were displaced after the Second World War in this region and their children today still have the language.

We think that all this waiting was a process that needed to be followed by all concerned once it had started. No point in getting frustrated as this is part and parcel of travelling. We have lost three hours so today’s travel plan is history. We need to backtrack and find the open crossing some 10km further north. As we ride on, we are feeling that we do not want this pointless delay to affect our view of the Uzbekistan people, we stop to check directions and a man comes from his house with a bottle of cold water for us. Confirmation of the wonderful nature of the Uzbek people and their generosity. I now understand why Uzbekistan requires visitors to prove they have stayed in hotels every night of their stay as without this, the Uzbek people would probably invite all the tourists home and the hotels would be empty!

The real border crossing between Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan is discovered and crossed in the usual four hours, two per side – see border crossings for more details of this process.

Anthony can take his nap anywhere - here at a petrol station in Turkmenistan

Anthony can take his nap anywhere – here at a petrol station in Turkmenistan

We travel as far as Dasoguz, where both the Turkmen border officials and the GPS indicate only one hotel in the city, which seems a little strange for a city of that size, but we find it ok. However no room for us, they are full. We can however stay at the annex, which is three buildings and one street away, an odd building with our room containing six beds, formally a function room with a shower and giant spar bath down the hall. Our first night in Turkmenistan.

Riding from Dasoguz we are heading for the Darvaza Crater, more commonly known as the “Door to Hell” en route to Ashkabat. This crater was created in 1971 when a Soviet drilling rig collapsed into an underground cavern releasing natural gas. The engineers at the time decided to burn off the resultant escaping gas for health reasons, the result of which is still burning some 43 years later, even longer than I have known Anne, with no sign of it, or us, ever ending.

The road south has four lanes, except 2 are unused and appear to have been so for some time. These lanes are used for overnight parking and from time to time disappear completely. Our two lanes vary from quite reasonable to heavily potholed. At one point as my suspension bottoms out again, I end up swinging onto the dirt, with my handlebars moving side to side, not quite a tank-slapper, but the ground starts to look awfully close at times, bit more power and out of trouble I get, I am lucky. (Anne says she did not enjoy seeing that, but did remember to shout “relax the shoulders” which helps).

Each day has been hotter than the last with the mercury creeping past 40 degrees Celsius. We stock up on water and now have over 17 litres between us. As we ride closer to our destination, the temperature rises, we pass 43 degrees Celsius and peak at 45 degrees. Water is going down fast, but not fast enough for us to spot a leak in a water bottle that has become damaged on the rough road. This combines with a damaged tin of fish to create a small pond in our wonderfully water tight Jesse aluminium motorcycle top-box. The water then flowed into my documents, money, my iPad mini and various assorted pieces of equipment. Sadly Water and iPad do not mix well, especially when you move the iPad and see water running on the inside of the screen. I had been wondering how to get rid of the petrol smell in my top-box from an earlier refuelling exercise from additional fuel storage, problem now solved, the smell of fishy water replacing the petrol smell.

Gettting hotter on our way through Turkmenistan

Gettting hotter on our way through Turkmenistan

Washed and dried the fishy smelling contents of Anthony's top box

Washed and dried the fishy smelling contents of Anthony’s top box

Our first aid waterproof bag was not that waterproof and became very fishy smelly too

Our first aid waterproof bag was not that waterproof and became very fishy smelly too

The GPS had indicated some sort of Park entrance for the Davarza crater, however that information was long out of date and Anne’s research indicted 10km of dirt and deep sand, way beyond our off-road capabilities. We found a local ‘fixer’ who arranged for a 4 wheel drive (4WD) to take us to the crater. Another couple arranged for us to stay with a local road construction crew camp who were established on the hillside near the almost invisible track to the crater. Going up the first sandy hill, reminding us of soft beach sand driving in Queensland, validated that we had made the right decision of hiring a 4WD. Sliding from side to side, up and down we moved closer to the crater. I had not seen pictures so had no idea what to expect. We crest a rise and below is a brown barren visa with a 70 meter diameter crater holding centre stage with flames burning all along the far side. Quite spectacular. We approach closer on foot and see dozens and dozens of separate gas fuelled flames burning, we can feel the heat but are wary of getting too close to the edge in case of overhangs.

Sandy road towards the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

Sandy road towards the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

The 2 men show the scale of the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

The 2 men show the scale of the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

The 2 slow Speeds by the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

The 2 slow Speeds by the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

We spend time, watching and reflecting on nature’s power from a hilltop as the sun goes down and Anne taking an amazing variety of photographs. This is a remote unique out of the way place, but a must, if you pass this way. Off to our road camp for a night’s sleep in our tent and 5am start to get on the road by 7am before the heat builds up.

Our campsite at the friendly road construction  site near the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

Our campsite at the friendly road construction site near the Dervaza crater, Turkmenistan

 

Lovely cool early morning morning ride towards Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

Lovely cool early morning morning ride towards Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

While we have avoided the early morning heat, we now have to contend the morning commuter rush of sheep, goat and camel herds moving out to graze. Sheep and goats at least have the decency to stay close together as they cross the road, camels do not and will cross in their time, not yours. Still, adds to the riding fun!

We came across many camels in Turkmenistan

We came across many camels in Turkmenistan

 

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Garmin, our GPS maker, do not produce or sell detailed maps of the Asian regions, so we rely on free maps downloaded from third party websites. Some of these maps do not support route planning in all areas as we found when we approached Ashgabat, the capital of Turkmenistan in search of our preferred hotel, the Nisa (or Nusay), in the centre of town. As we have only one night, a central location makes sense.

My navigation is based on using a target pin on the GPS map and navigating right and left down the streets reducing the distance to destination; I am sure there is a better way, but this works for us. We started to see massive gold painted statues of the former President from time to time – while he died some eight years ago, his presence is still around for all to see.

We wend our way towards the GPS target pin, around one way streets then suddenly we were alongside the President’s Palace! We had heard that the structures were lavish in the centre, but I had not seen pictures: something to behold. I tried to think of what they reminded me of, British Palaces, French Chateaux – neither seemed to fit. Then it came to me, those old Hollywood movies that featured the buildings of Imperial Rome with all their grandeur, designed to impress those of us from the colonies. A roundabout with the column topped by a three headed eagle is the centre piece, with our selected hotel on one corner, looking like a Government building across from the Ministry of Defence and the Presidential Palace. What a location!

The "dead road", Ashgabat, Turkmenistan - the small no entry sign can be seen just behind the base of the column on this photo

The “dead road”, Ashgabat, Turkmenistan – the small no entry sign can be seen just behind the base of the column on this photo

We check in and ask for a room overlooking the President’s Palace, but are given a room on the other side instead – must be because we look like dirty unwashed bikers who have been sleeping in the desert. We explore the hotel and find a passage way with a great view of the palace and a perfect photo location. On a nearby wall is a floor plan, which shows that no room overlooks the Presidential Palace, all have windows angled away or look into internal spaces. At least we can see out.

The outside windows of the hotel are not room windows and angled internal spaces ensure photos cannot be taken from inside the hotel

The outside windows of the hotel are not room windows and angled internal spaces ensure photos cannot be taken from inside the hotel

Photos of the presidential palace cannot be taken from the Nissa hotel rooms windows, which are carefully angled - Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

Photos of the presidential palace cannot be taken from the Nissa hotel rooms windows, which are carefully angled – Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

We walk up the road between our hotel and the Ministry of Defence, past giant gates, fountains and trees, air conditioned bus stops and cameras on every lamppost. No photos allowed of Government buildings or our hotel and reportedly if you take one you will be made to delete it, or worse, loose your memory card. At the shopping centre entrance, I am given a flyer for iPads: great, we go to the store and one hour later I am back in business with a new iPad mini, same as before and on which this blog entry was written. I thought I would have to wait until Dubai to replace the waterlogged model.

Oops, photo of our hotel was taken just before I was told no photos were allowed, Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

Oops, photo of our hotel was taken just before I was told no photos were allowed, Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

As night falls, we take our last photos of the Presidential Palace and the street outside, which a local referred to as “the dead road”. You may have noticed in the previous photos no traffic, as this video confirms:

In addition, at night, the painted lines reveal they are lights. A single policeman and a small no entry sign are the only deterrents to travelling up this street, but they really work, given the volume of traffic: no one, including us, want to find out what awaits on the “Dead Road”. We will leave that to braver souls than ourselves.

The "dead road" with lit street markings and synchronised coloured fountains, Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

The “dead road” with lit street markings and synchronised coloured fountains, Ashgabat, Turkmenistan

Anthony

PS. Photos and Videos have proved impossible to load in Iran, we have tried for a week, so to keep you all updated we will go to text only and add the photos when we get to Dubai.