The Iranian Border
Trip Start
Apr 29, 2006
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99
143
Trip End
Nov 15, 2007
Tabriz,
Iran
Saturday, August 26, 2006
We noticed many dung piles next to the homes in the east of . The kids collect up the cow pats and arrange them in a conical pile ready to be used for fuel in the winter. There are also kids on donkeys meandering through the hills with large bundles of twigs on each side of the donkey. Nothing is wasted here.
I asked a Turkish man for some directions to the post office, he was sitting on a motor bike eating his breakfast, a bread roll. He put his hand on his heart and welcomed me to Turkey, broke his bread roll in half and gave it to me
Beautiful..
. Des had the car running, so I explained that I couldn't stop, but would like to know where the post office was. He told me which way to go and invited me to come back afterwards to share tea with him. How friendly is that?When Lou mentioned to a gentleman in Turkey about our trip so far, and what was to come, the Turk replied 'Your journey just begins here'.
We drove up to the Turkish border and were met with the longest queue of trucks and semi-trailers I've ever seen. We were flabbergasted and had heard that these vehicles were sometimes there for 6 days. Just as we were about to join the queue, someone drove by us, stuck his arm out the window of his vehicle and beckoned us on. We followed him onto the wrong side of the road and maneuvered our vehicles closer to the border where two neat looking men pounced upon our cars.
One neat man insisted we needed Iranian rials in cash in Iran as there are no ATM's and Visa, American Express and other credit cards were not accepted. He was obviously a money changer. We had heard that the banks do not recognize our plastic bank savings cards, so we could not withdraw money. We had tried to buy rials in but the banks do not stock them and the exchange rate from the Dovis (money changers) is so poor, it would be like casting your hard earned money to the wind
Magic carpet
. Lou checked the internet to find out an accurate exchange rate. One AUS $ is equal to 7,000 Iranian rials. The Dovis wanted to exchange $1AUS for 2,790 rials. No deal was done.So we were at the Turkish border, ready to go across to the Iranian border when the neat money changing man said 'big problem, have you got Rials?' We admitted that we would be OK with the currency we were using, not wanting to give too much information away. At his insistence (and because 6 days at the border were starting to worry me) I exchanged the equivalent of $55.00AUS in New Turkish Lire (YTL) and held out my hand for the Iranian rials. It looked quite a lot at first and I thanked him and gave him a kangaroo magnet. When we stopped for coffee, and I did a quick count back, I realized he had given me the equivalent of $10AUS for my $55AUS. I hope he bought some lovely flowers for his wife that night. I must say this man was an exception and we feel the Turkish people have been more than generous and we have not been cheated in any way. We really had a wonderful 17 days in Turkey, even though it was longer than we had planned.
We had another neatly dressed man to deal with at the Turkish border yet
Magnificent work
. This man was a sort of go-between, a private agent who asked for our passport and car carnet, which we willingly gave over without any questions asked, although this man had no identification on him whatsoever. He lined our vehicles up at the exit point of the Turkish border and went in with all our papers. He came out about 15 minutes later and announced that there was a 'big problem' (of course). 'No, really big problem' he insisted. We asked what could be the matter with our Australian documents. Apparently there was a stamp missing from the Australian RAA on the first page of our carnet. Lou has this stamp, we don't. It was not a problem in the Netherlands or coming into Turkey but the private agent assured us he could persuade the officials to overlook the 'big problem' if we would give him $60US. We offered $20US for expedience sake, 'No, no $50 is OK' was his reply. He came over to my side of the car (as I am the chief bean counter for the trip) and I slipped him $40US. He seemed pretty delighted with that and went away to get the official, who spoke no English, to come and check our car's VIN number against the Carnet. All in order and we were sent on our way with a big smile and handshake from the private agent.As we started rolling, the private agent went over to Lou and asked him for a sum of money for the service he had done to get us underway so quickly
Nassar Khan
. He and Lou agreed on a figure and the boom gate was lifted for us to drive 20 meters into Iran. This kind of thing is just a fact of life in some parts of the world, and I understand and accept this. In Australia, (and I must not compare) things are more cut and dry, there is a set price for a service and it is announced up front.The Iranian Border
It was a lot easier at this end. Des and Lou took the carnets and all 4 passports to the officials who expediently stamped the carnets and were processing the passports when they called for the women to come in to the office. The passports were then stamped across the visa sticker and we were motioned towards the door. No so fast though, the 'tour guide' was his title, asked Des and I to come in for an interview. He asked some very rudimentary questions like: our ages, marital status, reason for travel to and places intended to visit. He also passed the time of day with some small talk about his friend in Sydney (every one has a friend or brother in Sydney ). The interview lasted 20 minutes and was very pleasant. We were then asked to invite Lou and Lynn in for an interview.
The Iranian Border...
All clear, in we went to Karaj, high fiving it all the way to the first fuel stop. We heard the fuel was cheap in , so we couldn't wait to get some. The first station we stopped at sent us packing, '5 kilometer down the road' (Lynn and I did purchase a map each from a vendor with a wheel barrow who pulled up along side the cars with heaps of hardware and stuff). 5 kilometers down the road we pulled into the next servo. '8 kilometer down the road' we were told. We couldn't understand the reluctance to sell us fuel. As it turned out, the stations close to the border are more expensive (we think to discourage border crossing just to get fuel) and the owners of the stations advised us to go further to get a better price. I thought it was because some stations only sold super and some diesel, not so. They actually did us a favour as the fuel we did purchase was less than 3cents (AUS) a litre. Lou was tickled pink and wanted to drive around the block till the tank was empty just so he could fuel up again.
We were advised to seek out a Mr Nassar Khan at the Bazaar in Tabriz , he would help us with our tourist questions
Truck roll over
.The drive of about 300km from the Iranian border to Tabriz was tiring as the Iranians drive their little Hillman Hunter look-alikes very fast along the highways. has a population of about 70 million people, 7 million of whom live in Tehran . That will be fun when we have to drive there! Major signs are in English and we made it to Tabriz doing about 90 kilometers per hour, trying to familiarize ourselves with the numerals on street signs and the new style of driving here. If we hadn't driven in , and the like, we would not have settled into Iranian driving so readily. It's not that there are no rules, but it's just that it's considered that everyone should have a fair go, (at the same time!) There are so many cars here (most of them 4cylinder, 1600cc and quite old) that 3 lane highways are often 5 lane autobahns. Cars come in from the feeder roads with a toot and just squeeze in. No one minds letting others in, they all get to where they want to go eventually. The tooting is necessary to give warning of where each car is on the road, and to wave to tourists of course. There are seatbelt signs everywhere, but few take any heed. Children roam freely in the cars. Taxis pick up several fares at one time, the passengers just move over for the new fare. Many motor cyclists carry their helmets on their arms or strap them to the back of the bike, if they have a helmet at all.
We had trouble finding the bazaar in Tabriz so Lou stopped to ask a pedestrian on the side walk. He stepped out of his car, walked back to speak to the pedestrian, and left the motor running. An opportunist opened Lou's car door, leaned into the car and kissed Lynn on the hand. At first Lynn thought this was Iranian custom, but he became quite amorous and began to frighten Lynn . I could see the man approach the Lou's car but could not see what was going on so I asked Lynn on the CB radio if she was OK. After a short time she said, 'would you call Lou please, now'. Des told Lou there was a man at his car with Lynn . Lou went over and had to move the man on. It gave us all a bit of a shock and made us more aware of how careful we should be in a different country. This could happen anywhere of course.
Just to show the other side of the coin though, a taxi driver yelled out to Lou 'Where do you want to go?' he said to Nassar Khan, Tourist Agent at the Bazaar in Tabriz. 'Follow me' the taxi driver said. It was a 3 kilometer or so drive through the heart stopping centre of Tabriz, but we got there safely and parked on the footpath! The taxi driver insisted there was no charge and would not accept payment. He said it was his pleasure and wished us a nice time in . We have found all of the people friendly and helpful and most welcoming and sincere to date.
Nassar took us to a 'park' where we set up our campers with the locals who picnicked on the verge at the side of the road on Friday nights. It became very busy as the night worn on and we had to shift our deck chairs a couple of times, (we were the only ones on deck chairs, everyone else was on rugs on the lawn). A family invited us to sit with them and have tea. They were interested in our trip and our family, so we produced all the photos of our family, which are starting to show signs of wear and tear now, and the map of our trip to date.
We were parked right on the highway and found it a noisy spot, but we had grass, wow, how lovely to have grass underfoot. In the morning we were the only ones parked there where there had been 3 deep parking and wall to wall people when we went to bed. Iran, as yet, does not cater for tourists like us traveling in motor homes. We have to find our own camping spots, which are usually in car parks or parking bays at the side of the highway.
Week ends are not non working days in every country. The Chinese embassy is open on Sundays
Comments
Missing words
Jenny, I find it interesting that each time you have mentioned Iran in your diary comments the word is missing ??/ Some sort of censorship do you think or just the gremlins at work.?
Ria