Before starting this 20 month journey I had pin pointed Iran as one of the countries I most wished to visit. I had heard how wonderful the people are here. Despite being aware of this, I was completely blown away by the reality of cycling in Iran.
From my experience travelling I can safely say Iranians are by far the friendliest, most welcoming and generous people I have encountered anywhere around the world. Every single day I am left speechless by the selfless acts of kindness I receive from complete strangers.
A “2 minute” trip to a small bakery near the city of Orumiyeh took 2-3 hours. Having purchased my delicious bread I was then invited to have some cay. This invitation extended to breakfast and before I knew it we were eating good food, singing songs and laughing the morning away.
As the sun set that same cold evening I pulled into a small village of mud brick houses. With my very limited Farsi I asked some young lads if there was somewhere I could pitch my tent for the night. Ten minutes later I was relaxing in the home of a family who could not do enough for me. They gave me 2 dinners then some dessert with endless cups of cay and biscuits in between. Uncles, aunties, cousins, grandparents and friends came around to meet me. It was like Lance Armstrong had arrived in the village on his bike, not some riff raff, hairy faced kiwi boy. At one point the father took off his socks and asked me to do the same. I could see he wanted me to be comfortable so I did as he asked. The moment I took my socks off he grabbed them and gave them a wash. I must have stunk pretty badly after a few days on the road as they also sprayed me with deodorant. The shame…………..
I cannot recall the number of times Iranians gave me food or water as I cycled along the road. Some wanted to chat, take a photo or make a video of me before offering a bag of food. Others would pull up beside me and hang a bag of food out of the window. One morning in particular I was given food on four separate occasions within 2 hours. Some shop keepers refused to accept money for goods I wanted to purchase. I met some Spanish cyclists who were given 10kg of food in 30 minutes. What do you do with 3kg of sultanas??
One guy stopped me as I rode towards Miyaneh, asks for my autograph, takes my photo then cranks up some Persian music on his car stereo. Within seconds we are dancing in the middle of the road, other cars were tooting their horns with encouragement as a shepherd escorted his goats around us to the opposite side of the road. This sort of occurrence is quite normal here in Iran.
In Tehran I stayed with a guy called Nader for 5 days in his awesome apartment. He and his lovely wife refused to let me buy anything the whole time I was there and took me to a very expensive restaurant on my last night as a farewell treat. All this for a complete stranger.
Having left Nader’s place I headed south out of Tehran. About 40km from the city some guy pulled over, flagged me down and insisted I put my bike in his car so he could take me to the next town. I insisted a little more firmly that was not going to happen so he drove ahead and waited for me 20km further down the road in the town of Hasan Abad. Sure enough, an hour or so later he flagged me down again as I cycled through town. He took me into a small sandwich shop where I met the owner, a true gentleman called Hossein. This man drove me down the road and bought loads of cakes for my journey ahead. Then we went to another shop where he purchased loads of nuts and dried fruit – energy for my ride the following day. Hossein cooked me dinner. I met his awesome wife who was really pleased to practice her English. We stayed up until about 3am chatting at their house before finally going to sleep. In the morning I was given a huge breakfast before being taken to a fruit shop. If I looked at anything in the shop Hossein did not even ask, he just bought it for me. He then shook my hand and sent me on my way. All he wanted in exchange for this unbelievable generosity was the occasional SMS Message to let him know I was having a good time elsewhere in his country. Iranians are wonderful people with massive hearts. They are also very concerned what foreigners think of Iranian people and their country.
Whilst cycling from Shiraz to Yazd I had a few days with massive winds. I actually got blown off my bike on one occasion and had to push the bike for hours during a vicious sand storm. A guy stops, gives me a coffee and a huge bag of food. Five minutes later an ambulance pulls up and insists I stop into their station 500m up the road for some lunch and shelter from the sand storm. I stayed for lunch, dinner and breakfast the next morning. I slept in the adjacent Mosque.
And so it goes on…………..
The majority of Iranians are unbelievably kind but as in any country there is always the odd rotten egg……or three. I had a VERY uncomfortable run in one evening with the Iranian Mafia. I will not go into details here but I will say I managed to slip unscathed out of a situation that I felt was about to turn pretty ugly. It is a story best saved and told in person.
Whilst riding from Kashan to Esfahan through the barren “empty” desert I noted an increased military presence and anti-aircraft guns on the top of the hills. Mmmmmmm I wonder why………… Before I know it I am getting pulled over by the military. The boys flashed their guns at me to make it perfectly clear they meant business. The next 3 hours were spent being interrogated by 3 military officers. One guy queried every phone call or SMS message on my phone. He also went through every single photo on my camera (3000ish) “Who is this, how do you know them, where did you meet them, what do they do for a job. ” I told him I cycled alone. He gave me grief when he saw photos of Paul and I cycling together way back in Germany/Czech Republic or photos of two tents in Turkey when I cycled with an Austrian guy for 2 days. “You say you cycle alone yet you cycle with these men, where are they now, are they in Iran” and so it went on. He also deleted some photos he considered “sensitive for military reasons” I could not argue with the photos I had taken of tanks.
Another guy went through my laptop checking every bit of information I had on the computer. “Do you have wireless, can you access BBC, do you have GPS bla bla bla” Note the BBC and so many other websites are blocked here in Iran. Trying to get news from New Zealand or Britain was pretty much impossible.
The third guy went through all my bags. This was the guy who made me nervous. The Iranian Government have been a little trigger happy in the past when arresting people for spying. Here I was riding through possibly the most politically sensitive area in Iran due to a massive Underground Uranium Processing Plant…….directly beneath my tyres. I had a big camera, a brand new British Passport hidden away with a healthy sum of US Dollars Cash and a few UK credit cards. It looked incredibly dodgy considering I travelled with a New Zealand Passport and did everything I could to hide the UK Passport. He went through 5 bags with a fine tooth comb looking at absolutely every little thing I had. The last bag he came to had my UK Passport buried in my clothes. He pulled out half of the clothes. With a couple of shirts remaining in the bottom of the pannier he asked if the rest was just clothes. “Of course Sir” I said. He left the last few items in the bottom of that pannier and told me to pack everything up. He had seen enough. If he had have found that brand new British Passport buried at the bottom on my panniers, that interview would have got a whole lot longer.
Finally these guys sent me on my way making it perfectly clear I was not to stop until I reached the town of Natanz where they instructed me to book into a hotel. “If you need to go to the toilet on the way you do it in your pants. Under no circumstances are you to take any photos of the area. You do not stop for any reason. Do you understand. Are we perfectly clear” “Of course Sir” I said. So off I pedalled. 2km down the road I stopped to take some great photos of the surrounding mountains before eventually finding a nice spot to camp for the night.
It is embarrassing to see how fortunate I am in life. I can travel the world freely simply because of where I am born. I met a truly inspirational guy in Tabriz called Sina. He wishes to cycle 7000km from Tabriz to London for the Olympics, carrying a message of peace. He wants Britain and the rest of the world to see this is how the majority of Iranians feel. Due to media constraints in this country the voice and opinion of the average Iranian is never heard. Sina has little money. He would work hard and eventually buy a second hand bike for around $50-100. He would buy the material and make his own panniers (bike bags) where he could. What he could not make, he hoped to borrow. In Iran everyone wants to help you as a cyclist, offer you a home to sleep in, give you food or help in any way they can. The people in Iran care for strangers. It was horrible to tell him this will rarely happen in Europe and Britain. Generally speaking, people in the West could not care less about what he was doing. Everyone is too busy with their own lives to care about a stranger on a bike. The most soul destroying part of it all is that despite his passion and desire to fulfil his dream it probably will not happen because he is Iranian. The chances of Sina getting the appropriate visas are very slim, especially with the way things are politically between Britain and Iran at the moment. Despite the odds being stacked against him he still holds so much hope he can make it to London. You hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. I admire this guy so much.
If anyone has contacts with Consulates or Embassies that may be able to help Sina get the appropriate visas, please let me know as soon as you can. The British Embassy in Iran has closed and he does not get any response from the British Embassy in Turkey. It would mean so much for me to see Sina ride into London with his message of peace.
Iran is not just about the people. Cycling and camping for weeks in the mountains or desert has provided me with an immense sense of freedom and peace I have never felt before. All my previous worries or concerns just seem to vanish. I am a happy boy. The scenery has been breath-taking in places. Exploring cities such as Kashan and Yazd make you feel like you are lost in time as you wonder aimlessly around the ancient mud brick buildings and narrow alleys. Esfahan and Shiraz are the jewels of the country with their stunning, mosques, shrines, ancient bridges and beautiful parks. These two cities are home to some of the most beautiful Islamic Architecture you will find anywhere in the world. Iran has so much to offer every type of traveller. I cannot say enough good things about the place.
In the freezing cold of East Turkey I was struggling both mentally and physically. That, I cannot deny. My 7 weeks in Iran has changed things completely. I have renewed energy and enthusiasm for the challenge ahead. It is a pleasure to be doing what I am doing. This is a once in a lifetime journey and I am so glad Iran was a part of it. I am loving it right now.
I have just returned from Haram-E Razavi, the holiest shrine in Mashhad, the holiest city in Iran. It is a pretty amazing place to witness 1000’s of people attending evening prayer. Tomorrow I leave this city and head for the Turkmenistan Border which I will reach in a few days. If I could spend 6 more months in Iran I would do it without hesitation but the show must go on. Central Asia awaits.
If you doubt the goodness of the human heart I suggest you come to Iran. It will not take long at all before you also experience how kind people can be.
quinsadventure 