Sep 14 2014

Onwards to Kerman, or wherever…..

As we walk to our bikes for any early start, a cat scampers away, we see that my seat and tank are marked with paw marks: was the cat looking for a good night’s sleep, or, as we hear the sound of chickens from behind the high gate in front of which the bike was parked, a more sinister and likely reason comes to mind. Breakfast……

After the usual photographs for the hotel staff, we are off in the cool of the early morning. The route is straightforward for a change and in 15 minutes we are on the Persian Gulf highway heading for Kerman.

Heading out of Yazd, Iran

Along the Persian Gulf Highway

The road is dual highway with bypasses around each Last mountains before the Banda Abbas coast, Iran. We are able to maintain a higher average speed than normal and are making good progress towards Kerman.

Highway from Yazd to Kerman, Iran

We start to notice some faded animal signs along the route, each just before a parking area. Closer inspection reveals them to be warnings not to stay overnight because of the danger of cheetahs. Cheetahs in Iran??? A little research that night shows that there is an asiatic cheetah that is genetically different from the African one, having separated some 30,000 to 60,000 years ago. Sadly it is estimated that there are only between 40 and 70 left in the wild and few in captivity. I had only though that cheetahs existed in Africa. Let’s be positive and believe that the remaining few can survive and flourish, but sadly the faded signs will probably be monuments for their eventual demise and the inability of man and animals to successfully coexist.

Asiatic cheetah warning sign along the Persian Gulf Highway, Iran

We are making good progress and while initially following the signs to Kerman, we now see a fork in the highway with Bandar Abbas, our ultimate destination indicated, so we follow that. We quickly become aware that we are not travelling east anymore but south? A check of our map reveals that the small 2nd class road is now a four lane highway taking some 100 kms off our journey and bypassing Kerman. Turn back or continue? The lure of the mountains ahead call us onward and we are not disappointed: gentle snaking turns, wind up between jagged peaks as we climb into cooler air and great scenery. Perfect motorcycling road with two lanes in each direction. We climb and descend and find ourselves out of the desert environs, with more cultivation and at a higher elevation.

(Anthony’s is too polite to mention my Shewee mishap. Here we are, on the side of a desert road with not a single tree or anywhere to hide behind away from the sight of passing motorists on this 4 lane highway, we stand side by side. But of course, I have my scarf on, so what is a woman doing standing right beside a man peeing. How naughty of me. This puts me into a fit of giggles. And in my rush and giggles, my Shewee is not positioned correctly… The feeling that I have ‘missed’ makes me laugh more… which is only making things worse…)

Half a dozen double parked trucks at the side of the road, the sign we have found to be a good place to have lunch. We have found worldwide that if the food is good, truck drivers will return. It is how we choose our lunchtime stops – no trucks no stopping for us. Kebabs are sizzling over a simple charcoal tray outside as we enter the cafe. Only truck drivers and us. We are made welcome and join four of them at a table. Only one menu item, chicken kebab with bread, yogurt and raw onion. Makes choosing simple. The final result is a long kebab, about the size of a small spear with huge chicken portions. One driver has about a dozen chicken legs on his. Really good value at $3 each. The cafe interior would not look out of place in the 1960’s, plastic tablecloths, pictures of country houses on the wall and a large flat screen tv showing about a dozen excellent quality close circuit video camera feeds from in and around the cafe. No idea why this is or what they use it for.

Roadside truck stop lunch, halfway between Yazd and Banda Abbas, Iran

By 1pm, we have covered over 340 kms, which for us is normally a day’s travel, and after the leisurely lunch, it is still only 2pm. We are told Bandar Abbas is about 300km away. We decide that we will push on and look for a suitable campsite, or if not, carry on as far as we feel possible. As we continue south in the afternoon, we see no place that looks to entice us from the highway. The temperature is rising, a truck driver had told us Bander Abbas was up to 50 degrees Celsius last week. We climb up through the mountains again and we start to see water in, what up to now, have been dry river beds. Palm trees have started to appear and the feel of the landscape is changing.

200kms north of the south coast, Iran

Couldn’t resist this corny shot

Ever changing mountains as we head towards Banda Abbas, Iran

No suitable campsite forums and we are under a 100km away from Bandar Abbas.

Looking back at the last climb before riding through a tunnel

Disconcerting swap of lane direction as we come out of a tunnel, Iran

We decide to go all the way through. This will be the furthest we have ridden in one day, but the temperature has now climbed to high 30’s.

A rest stop, a chat with a police patrol in a land cruiser and the obligatory photos, then we are off again on the lat 30 km, following a small white car which offered to guide us into the city. Using the GPS we head for the waterfront where the hotel Anne has found is situated. Land reclamation has provided a new broad waterfront avenue which is not on my map. Our hotel is found, we navigate a couple of side streets to the entrance, park the bikes and stagger in and while we are being checked in, we sit in a couple of comfortable chairs sipping a complimentary glass of pomegranate juice reflecting that we have just ridden 640km in 10 hours, the furthest we have ridden in a day ever! What will Bander Abbas hold for us tomorrow?

– Anthony

Sep 13 2014

Video

A motorcyclist’s view of Iran

Sep 7 2014

Esfahan

We leave our lovely hotel in Kashan, request help to take our luggage to the bikes, load our panniers back on the bikes and get ready to ride up the very steep, angled and weirdly corrugated driveway up to the lane-way. I had thought about it the day before and thought it would not be easy – better be careful not to lean too far to the right and fall over or you could land your chin and break neck on the hand rail. Vivid imagination sometimes… As I walked down to the bikes, I had decided how to tackle it. I can do it. It will be fine. I position my bike for the ride up… Yes I can. Aarrgghh. No!!! I chickened out. Anthony walks back down and rides my bike up. I am really annoyed at myself. Really annoyed and disappointed. Anthony tells me it was easier the 2nd time. We ride out. I keep having little chats to myself – one minute telling myself off, next telling myself to “drop it” and concentrate on the road. It’s done. It’s ok.

Our ride out of Kashan to Isfahan is short and easy, just 200 kms and quite pleasant. We stop half way to refuel and stretch our legs. As usual, our bikes attract a bit of attention.
There is no restaurant open so we open one of our cans of tuna which we eat with a small packet of chips/crisps in the shade of the closed restaurant. Several cars pull up, all from the same group and install themselves along the wall in the shade, like us. They have brought rugs to sit on and pillows to lean against, large containers of hot tea and all sorts of food.

Scenery between Kashan and Esfahan, Iran

Charity boxes are found every few hundred metres in streets, and also at petrol stations throughtout Iran

This girl came over and offered me some chips/crisps as we stopped for refreshments

On our way to Isfahan, Iran

We had given ourselves 4 hours to get to our rendez-vous – 3 for the bulk of the route and a final hour for getting into the city centre. We are meeting friends by a large, very famous park, Bagh Ghadir, everybody knows it we are told but the GPS doesn’t and no park is shown on the GPS so once again, the GPS cannot find the address we’ve been given. But I have it on my iPad with a saved Google map. So Anthony works on locating roads, bends, roundabouts, underpasses and puts a target pin roughly where our the meeting point is. I know the name and Anthony knows the direction. Between the two of us we get close. We’ve gone through 2 underpasses – do we exit here? It doesn’t look quite right. At the traffic lights, as a driver asks where we are going, I call out the name of the park. The driver waves towards the underpass, then left. We confirm our understanding – back down here and up again or…?? The lights turn green. Rats. Was it down the ramp, and stay left or down, up and left? He takes off, and cuts in front of us. Nothing unusual. He was in the left hand turning lane, which we know means nothing here really, but he waves at forward so we think he’s going to lead us to our destination. How nice!! Just as we thought, down, off to the right, up and left at the top. At the intersection, I spot a sign “Ghadir Gardens”. He is taking us there! We eventually arrive at a park which I recognise – thanks Google Earth. We were meeting 3/4 of the way along. I tell Anthony we should stop. The driver waves towards the park on the left, and starts to turn right. We decide to pull over where he’s turning and call our friends. Just as we’re pulling over, right there are 2 people waving at us!!!! Our usual luck strikes again – thank you guide, thank you angels…

Who are these friends? A friend of a friend and we’re staying at her sister’s house. We have never met them before. And our friend has in fact never met her friend either. They know each other through social media. And it seems perfectly normal to them to put us up. Why are we not staying in a hotel you may ask? Because every single hotel I called was full. I even tried for single nights, prepared to move as necessary as we wanted to spend at least 3 nights. And it wasn’t until Afrooz asked me yesterday where we were staying in Isfahan and I told her that every hotel I had tried was fully booked for the whole of September so we would try on arrival that she said she would call her friend that evening and check with her. As luck would have it, this friend, Zoreh, was coming home to her parents at 3am from Southern Iran where she works 2 weeks on, 2 weeks off as the emergency doctor at a hospital. And of course we could stay, but her sister’s home would be more comfortable for us.

So that’s how we meet Zoreh and her nephew Mohammad, by the side of the road. The house is close by, a few short lanes away and we’re there. The garage doors are opened for us and we park our bikes in the beautifully tiled garage. The car will be parked on the street while we’re there. We are dripping wet with sweat – it got to 42 degrees again today – it is good to stop.

We meet Zoreh’s eldest sister, her husband and their daughter. Mohammad’s wife arrives a little later. We are offered glasses of iced water. And biscuits. And sweets. And chocolates. And a cool fruit drink. And fresh fruit. Eat fruit!! I am invited to take my scarf off – even though all the others have kept theirs on, even within their own home. We are shown to our room. It’s massive. I am sure we are taking someone’s room but we are assured not. That night, as we went to the toilet, we get confirmation we have taken the parents’s room as they are sleeping in the lounge.

We are thankful Zoreh speaks good English. Mohammad tries hard and Zoreh completes the sentences for him. We are invited to go over to one of Zoreh’s aunts who lives across the road. We think of how close families are in Iran still. Family members never live very far from each other. It was like that for Afrooz, Saba, Fariba and now Zoreh, except that those 4 women were largely the exception in their family. We think of our families, and how travel pulled us away from them, geographically, all those decades ago…

As we walk into the aunt’s home, we see this absolutely enormous pot, about 50x110cm, with the biggest ladle and stirrer. We are greeted by so many people, with more waving from a balcony upstairs. We don’t know who they all are. Several kids are happily playing together in the courtyard. There is a happy and relaxed atmosphere. They have prepared and cooked kilos and kilos of osh. A large table cloth is brought down into the courtyard and and we and our ‘immediate family’ have our dinner together. Anthony and I struggle with sitting cross legged – our bodies are not used to that position, we feel so stiff and awkward! Our lovely hosts invite us to stretch our legs out. Dinner finished, we all get up and leave all the others.

Zoreh’s family has prepared the largest pot of osh and prove such massive pots are household items

Delicious osh is being served for dinner, Isfahan, Iran

Zoreh, Mohammad and his wife Shadi take us to see the city by night. The streets are so busy, like rush hour – the night rush hour really. It seems that the whole of Isfahan is out enjoying the cooler evening air. Roundabouts, which are beautifully treed with lots of flower beds are dotted with several families having picnics. This isn’t the week end – it’s like that every evening we are told. Past the Si-oSeh-Pol bridge (30 bridges bridge), past the Khajoo bridge, and onto the main square Naqsh-e Jahan or Imam square. All beautifully lit. On the way, we stop for ice cream and a special lemon sherbert desert which is tasty and extremely sweet. We have found that Iranians love their sweets, in many forms, love salt and love sour foods. We spend a lovely evening strolling through the bazaar, stopping for tea at a very quirky tea house, admiring the bridges. We have long and very open discussions about marriage, kids, families, politics, religion.

Female and male door knockers, Isfahan, Iran

Want some tea with your sugar?

Chicken spices, Isfahan, Iran

Iranian tea with just a bit of sugar

Over our two whole days in Isfahan, we meet several of Mohammad’s friends, several of Zoreh’s family members, we are invited to her parents’ house, an aunt’s home to see her most stunning home with mirrored walks and ceilings, like we’ve seen in palaces here. Once again, we are amazed at how people suddenly turn up, appear, join us for a while. Always so lovely, interested in us and life in Australia and interesting. I am quizzed once again on marriage and kids, why don’t we have kids, is it important what age you marry, is it important what age your husband is.

Zoreh’s aunt’s home with amazing mirrows and wall & ceiling decorations, Isfahan, Iran

Zoreh with her parents

We are taken to restaurants, and some of the historical sights I was interested in such as: Chehel Sotun Palace, originally built as a pleasure pavilion (and was rebuilt in 1706 after a fire) is one of 300 palaces that were built when Isfahan was the capital of Iran. It’s name means 40 pillars and is derived from the 20 slender pillars that support a stunning wooden ceiling, and their reflection in the long pool in front of the palace. The palace’s great hall is adorned with magnificent historical frescoes. The palace gardens, covering an area of 67000sqm are stunning. I find that I am attracted to the vivid greens we’ve seen in gardens in Iran – probably because we’ve seen so much desert while riding.

Chehel Sothun palace – Isfahan, Iran

Some of the 20 slender column supporting the Chehel Sotun pavillion roof, Isfahan, Iran

Fresco inside the Chehel Sotun pavillion, Isfahan, Iran

Park surrounding Chehel Sotun palace, Isfahan, Iran

I was interested in seeing the Armenian quarter called Jolfa. Back in 1604, Shah Abbas was so impressed in the Armenians’ skills as merchants, entrepreneurs and artists, he kidnapped the whole population of the original Jolfa near Tabriz, and sent them off to build him a new capital at Isfahan, ensuring them that their religious beliefs would be respected, although they would be kept at a certain distance away from the city’s islamic centre. It is a relatively small, compact quarter but has a very distinctive feel. It was interesting to visit Vank cathedral, which is richly decorated with old and new testament imagery, together with typically islamic tiles and designs below.

Typical Armenian teahouse in Jolfa district, Isfahan with Zoreh and friends

Vank cathedral in Jolfa district, Isfahan, Iran

Inside Vank cathedral, Isfahan, Iran

Khaju bridge, Isfahan, Iran

Finally, I was keen to visit the Sheikh Lotfollah mosque on the Naqsh-e Jahan squre, built between 1602 and 1619. It is unusual as it has no minaret or courtyard and but steps lead up to the entrance. That is because it was never designed for the public but for the women of the shah’s harem. They would enter their mosque via an underground passage under the square from the Shah’s palace.

Sheikh Lotfollah mosque, with no minaret or courtyard, but entrance steps which were never used – Isfahan, Iran

Alabaster surrounds the Shah or Imam (depending on your political views) mosque

Naqsh-e Jahan Square (or Imam Square), with the Sheikh Lotfollah (harem) mosque on the left, the palace opposite, and the main mosque at the far end.

Zoreh’s sister prepared us a different breakfast every morning, delicious lunches, so many Iranian sweets, especially Yazd nougat which we both loved, and lots of home grown fruit. They were so lovely – we just wish we could have communicated with them better. And so incredibly generous. When we left, we gave them a large box of sweets (which we had heard was a traditional gift when you visit people for dinner). They were obviously offended, asking us why we gave them a gift. Anthony was quick thinking: so that you can remember us when you eat them. Insult avoided, just!

Zoreh was wonderful and so attentive. Despite her migraine, she joined us on our last day. She could not have done more for us. Her nephew and his family were so lovely too. Once again, we leave new friends behind. We know we’ll stay in touch…

Mohammad, Anthony and Zoreh

With Zoreh, Isfahan, Iran

Zoreh’s sister and husband in the front, with their kids Sarah and Mohammad with his wife Shadi, who all showed us around Esfahan

After several photos and our final goodbyes, we set off for Yazd.

– Anne

Sep 5 2014

Leaving Tehran for Kashan

Today, Friday 5th September, we leave Tehran. The roadside butcher had finished his business – probably meat for the building crew a couple of doors down. We wave goodby and ride out onto a Friday lunchtime traffic, read Sunday lunchtime traffic as Friday is the weekend day here in Tehran. A huge change from riding as the streets seem deserted by comparison to our ride in, which is good for us as we were not looking forward to the exit from Tehran. We have to take a somewhat convoluted route to get to the main route south. A couple of U turns after we start, I hear Anne’s bike screech to a halt. She has avoided an accident with a car that was not going to stop by millimetres. Anne has commented that she felt her body had physically aged 10 years driving and being driven in Iran. A traffic jam or two later and we are on the main road south. We approach the toll road wondering if the payment system will be less complex and easier to understand the the one that inhabits French autoroutes.

Turns out that Toll road is a little bit of a misnomer for us, as it seems the large signs ban motorbikes and other undesirable forms of transport from the toll roads, we ignore the signs and the toll booths always waive us through without payment. Only once in the ride from Tehran to Kashan did a policeman waive his little traffic stick with the red side visible at a toll booth, I just waived back and on we went, maybe he thought I was colour blind.

Each stop for fuel, snack or our favourite lunch of canned tuna and biscuits, brought out the travelling photographers. Pictures of the bikes, us with the bikes, them with us and on the bikes, their children on the bikes. In each case they always ask, even if it is to just photograph the bikes. It sometimes takes quite a few minutes for the crowds to clear after we arrive for us to get on with whatever activity we stopped for. Still great to meet so many friendly people.

Friendly waves but I do wish the drivers didn’t cut in front of us that way – on our way to Kashan, Iran

The toll is a good quality and multi lane, we make good time and arrive at the outskirts of Kashan. We hail a taxi and agree a price for him to lead us to the hotel. Usually about one US dollar. I have found that the free maps do not have the lane ways in such detail to navigate so I switch to a local and very accurate GPS system – taxis. We travel down Kashan’s avenues around green and treed roundabouts, then off down alleyways, left and right to a point where the taxi can proceed no further. We ride on to find our hotel and park the bikes close by. It is beautiful inside and we are both exhausted so the air conditioning is vey welcome.

Bike security is very important to us and at each hotel we look for the most secure location for the bikes. I am told go back to the white door and part there. I bring both bikes to the white door, ring the bell and am admitted. About one meter in is a set of stairs descending to a courtyard and on my left a small balcony with a couple of 125cc bikes. To get ours in will be difficult, but not impossible so I start to reposition the two small bikes: it’s great I can just lift the back and pull it around, this is the size for next trip. Just as I am getting finished, the owner of the house comes up and tells be it’s the next white gate I want! Oh apologies and I am out of there, lucky I did not get our motorbikes in.

Not that white door!! Our hotel entrance is just past the archway. Kashan, Iran

Soon the motorbikes are safely parked and I struggle back with two panniers in the 40 degree heat. It would have been nice to have some hotel help in this regard, but they all seem to have disappeared. It does seem from the number of women and children around that parts of this old building have been retained as family dwellings amid the hotel and it not clear where the boundaries are between hotel and home, especially when the children are playing outside your bedroom window at midnight. That and being near the kitchen, we decide on a room change for night number two. We get an underground cavern down eight steep steps, but the room is quiet and we are happy. It should be noted that steps in Iran never have an even step height, the builders must have to work with whatever sized materials are at hand. One really does need to “mind the step between the platform and the train” as they say.

Our hotel in Kashan, the Manoucheri hotel - a beautifully renovated traditional home

Our hotel in Kashan, the Manoucheri – a beautifully renovated traditional home

Our hotel in the evenings, Kashan, Iran

We only have one full day in Kashan and have divided the day into morning and afternoon activities, as the heat of day reaching over 40 degrees, plus everything shutting at lunchtime gives a us a window to rest and make some blog writing time in the cool of the air-conditioned room. As I have said before this makes a big difference for me, and while costing more, is preferable now to the types of places and conditions in which we stayed 35 years ago.

Anne had two places she wanted to visit in Kerman, one is the covered bazaar which is one of the best in Iran and has a renowned multi domed roof. We enter from the meat and vegetable end of the bazaar and Anne immediately spots a mobile butcher on his bicycle. Meat delivered to your door: any health issues there that could preclude this at home?

Mobile butcher, Kashan, Iran

Past the usual stores until we spy a coffee shop down some stairs. This turns out to be a former bathhouse that has been converted into a coffee shop and restaurant. A single family has run this for generations and is still going strong. We lunch on a raised platform overlooking the fountain which for some strange reason has an oil fired flame coming out next to the water! The owner’s father and grandfather’s portraits hang on the wall. We are told the construction of the building is such that it is effectively earthquake proof. After a relaxing lunch, no hokum pipe for us, we take a photograph for the only awake German out of four sitting at the other end of the tea house. The others are stretched out on the carpet. I am sure he will have fun with that at home.

Teahouse, Kashan bazar, Iran

Before I wrote this section on the Bathhouse in the Kashan Bazaar, I had found people who had written similar travel reports and I thought how easy plagiarism must be today. There was a recent report on a Dutch girl who instead of travelling to Thailand for a month as family and friends thought, stayed home and used Photoshop to fake her trip as a way showing how media can be manipulated. I now realise we could have gone and done this RTW motorcycle trip while lounging on a year long round the world cruise instead. Just kidding, where do you really think we are?

Stunning ceiling of the Kashan bazar, Iran

Our afternoon trip was to the Persian Gardens called Bagh-e Fin This is one of the classic Persian gardens and on Unescos heritage list. The construction and use of a gravity fed water supply to the gardens are amazing and will be reflected in the photos loaded in Dubai. They are beautifully laid out, cool with tall trees, deep green grass and the sound of running water. It is supplied with water from an underground stream that then flows towards town passing through numerous buried water storage facilities that date back hundreds if not thousands of years. Water conservation is always practiced by those in regular short supply.