Day 656: Friday, July 1, 2016

So today did not work out anything like planned. I did get up early and get on my bike to head to the border which was planned. I got to the border about 8:30am and was told it was closed but would open in 10 minutes. At least that is what I understood from the hand gestures. An hour later, so not even close to “10 minutes” or even “10am” they opened and then the process began for exiting Azerbaijan. The actual processing time for customs and immigration took about a half an hour. Why does this process have to be so complicated? I am leaving after all, not entering.

Mentally I was preparing myself for 4 hours for the whole process but now I was already 1 ½ hours into it and just getting to the Iranian part. I pulled up to the Azerbaijan exit gate and the bar rose in front of me. Wow, I was really going into Iran and it hit me. I turned a slight corner and there was a bridge over a small river that was not flowing as I was only about 500 meters from the Caspian Sea. The bridge was narrow and the river has fairly dense trees and bushes along both sides of it. Several people were walking across the bridge, bags in hand that I had to dodge with my bike as I inched across. I felt more like I was in Southeast Asia than enter Iran at that moment.

Most borders have separate lanes for cars and trucks but not at this border. I was ushered to pass the trucks along the right side and make my way to the immigration window ahead which I did with gratitude. Once there I parked my bike and headed for the immigration window. Immediately a guy in normal clothes came up to me and snatched my passport and Carnet de Passage from my hands and handed the passport to the immigration officer. He acted like he belonged there so for a moment I thought maybe he worked for the immigration service. Of course having already traveled through Central America I strongly expected he was an enabler working for tips. He spoke no English though so I had no way of finding out.

We stood at the window for what seemed like 30 minutes as the officer looked through my passport several times, talked to someone on his phone a few times, and passed my passport around for other officers to look at. The whole time the trucks were being processed and were rolling through one after another. All of the sudden I heard a load crashing noise and I spun around and saw my bike lying on the ground in horror. Could this really be happening? I could not believe my eyes. A semi-truck had just sideswiped by bike! Here I am at the most stressful border crossing of my entire journey and this happens.

It turns out that the semi-truck had left some outward folding doors on the side of the trailer open so they were sticking out well past the side of the trailer. Those doors caught my bike and knocked it down. Several truck drivers came over to my bike and helped me get it upright while others picked up some of the pieces from the ground. The major damage was to the left rearview mirror which was totally busted off. I have dropped my bike several times in the past 2 years but never broke a rearview mirror. Now in a matter of a few days I have had both rearview mirrors broken!

The driver that hit me offered to pay to get me new rearview mirrors but it was another truck driver that was kind enough to offer to go to a store and buy them once he himself cleared customs. There was also other damage but mostly cosmetic, I think. I am not entirely sure yet.

So through all this commotion my passport was floating around somewhere, the guy helping me was in possession of my very valuable Carnet de Passage, and a lot of guys were looking at and working on my bike. I was just hoping that everyone was really looking after my best interests.

Things settled down a bit as I was still waiting for something but I did not know what. In these cases you just have to relax and let things happen as they will. Finally a police officer came and got me and my passport and we walked over to a building where all the foot traffic passes. As I approached the building there was posters everywhere of the Iranian leader. I was lead up 2 flights of stairs in an area of the building that was very quiet. I won’t tell you the thoughts that were going through my head. I was then taken into a room and asked to sit. A man came out from a back room with a briefcase in hand and a smile on his face. He stuck out is hand and said “welcome to Iran.” He then proceeded to take my fingerprints the old fashioned way.

The fingerprinting process took 30 minutes in total and then I was taken back to where my bike was. I then had to move my bike up 30 meters to where the customs check was. At that moment I realized that I was now officially admitted to Iran. The baggage check was quick and simple with little fuss made and only a cursory look through things. The bad part of the check is that I discovered that the left panier was also badly bent out of shape from the accident. The truck driver that caused the damage was now an hour up the road so I had no recourse at that point.

The guy that was helping me then assisted me in changing $300 into Iranian Rial. He then indicated for me to follow him. All of this is happening with hand signals. The day was very hot and this poor guy was running trying to keep ahead of my bike. I felt bad for him. He led me to an area of customs that was far away from where all the action was and it looked like a graveyard for trucks that never did make it out of customs. It reminded me of a scene from movies where the mafia would take someone in an abandoned warehouse complex to snuff them. I was hoping this was something different entirely.

We then reached a building that at least looked like it was still in use. He went in while I waited outside but he was back out quickly and then on his cell phone talking busily to someone. When he got off the phone and now with the aid of someone nearby that spoke a few words of English I learned that the staff that I needed to complete my Carnet de Passage were all gone for the day. It was still noon so I was surprised. Later I found out that it is a holiday related to Ramadan and that is why.

The end result to this is that I am now stuck in a hotel 100 meters from the border while my bike is still sitting behind the customs area wall until tomorrow morning when I can get it cleared. So with the whole day to spend here I was really glad I agreed to get some money exchanged while inside the immigration area. The guy helping me was really great and helped me carry my bags to the hotel he showed me. He couldn’t have possibly done more for me. When he left me at the hotel he still wanted to hold onto my Carnet de Passage but I insisted that I keep it in my possession. It is just too valuable.   He will be back in the morning to take me back to customs and get the paperwork finished and get me on my way at which point he will have clearly earned his tip.

Day 657: Saturday, July 2, 2016

At 9:00am as promised Peyman, my guide through the Iranian Immigration and Customs process showed up at my hotel ready to get my bike out of customs. As far as I can tell the process went smoothly although it was complicated. We must have talked to 5 different people getting the Carnet de Passage filled out properly. This included bribes to a couple officials. I could not see how much each bribe was. At one point Peyman told me to go with him so I followed, of course. We left the customs area and got into his car. I thought maybe we had to go back to the immigration area for something. Instead he stopped at an ATM withdrew money and then we went right back to where we were. Obviously he did not have enough cash for the necessary bribes.

After about 1 ½ hours the gate opened and I rode out to freedom and the Iranian roads. Of course Peyman wanted to be sure he got paid for his services so he still held my Carnet de Passage in his hand. I pulled over to the side of the road to park and settle up with him. I was expecting to give him $50 as he did work really hard for me including time over 2 days. He then showed me on his calculator that he wanted $100. It is hard to negotiate when neither part speaks the language of the other. In addition I just wanted to get out of there with no more hassles so I ponied up the $100. In return I got my Carnet de Passage and we said our goodbyes.

It took me another 10 minutes to get my bike all squared away and all my documents back in the rightful place. Everything has a place and must be kept in strict order. Just as I was finishing up out of nowhere a guy appeared and I heard him say “money exchange”. I turned around to see him standing right by me with a fist full of cash. I was more than happy to see him as I needed more cash. I can’t use any of my bank or credit cards in Iran due to the US embargo on Iran.   I had a bunch of Euro still that I wanted to part with so I used some of that to get more Iranian Rial.

I then rode up the street about 2 blocks where I knew there was a store that sold Coke Zero. The intersection where the store is located had been deserted last night but today being a work day and being in the morning it was crowded with cars and pedestrians. I parked my bike and before I could even get my helmet off about 5 guys were standing by my side looking over the bike and me. After 3 of the guys each took turns sitting on my bike and getting their pictures taken with me I ditched into the store to get my drink. I came back out and there were even more people gathered around.

Before I could finish my Coke, which I drank quicker than normal a young guy, Monammad came up to me and told me he was a bike mechanic. I immediately asked him if he could fix my pannier and he said enthusiastically, yes. I said “Okay, let’s go to your shop”, took the last swig of my Coke, and jumped on my bike. I then found myself weaving through traffic following this guy riding a 125hp beat up bike. In about 5 minutes we arrived at his shop. I quickly took the pannier off the bike and he got to work but only after insisting that I come sit down on his sofa and preparing tea for me.

He must have worked on my pannier for 1 ½ to 2 hours. I could tell he wanted it to be as good as possible. I had already had 4 cups of tea during this time but once he was finished and I got my pannier back on the bike and the bike reloaded we sat down together and had one last tea.   I asked him how much and he refused to let me pay. He was so happy to be able meet an American and talk. He invited me to his house to have lunch, take a shower and rest. It was so hard to turn down his offer as I did not want to disappoint him but after only traveling 2 kilometers yesterday and so far only traveling 1 kilometer today I just had to move on towards Tehran. Reluctantly he accepted that I had to go and wished me a good journey.

Finally I was on the road with my bike back in functional order and I started to put some kilometers behind me. I had no idea how far I would make today but thought I would try to get at least halfway to Tehran and find a place right on the beach of the Caspian Sea.

The road was a 2 lane highway each direction for most of the way. I quickly discovered that my experience in Astara was not a fluke. As I was riding cars would constantly pull up beside me and honk, wave, and shout “hello” from their rolled down window. On many occasions they would have their cell phone out taking a picture of me or even videotaping me for a kilometer or 2. While this was flattering it was also dangerous for me but they did not understand that.

Whenever I stopped I would be mobbed. It would take a good 20 minutes to get going again after all the pictures and conversations.   The people were so surprised and excited when I told them I was an American. I really don’t think any of them had met an American before. They would say “Welcome to Iran,” “We love America,” and using sign language indicate they wanted America and Iran to be friends.

In the third city I tried to find a place, Ramsar I finally found a hotel on the beach with nearby restaurants and stores. It was perfect. It seems to be a bit of a tourist town. I was surprised at the waves crashing onto shore since the Caspian Sea does not have tides. But it is a huge body of water so currents and the wind do create the waves. Unfortunately I could not get the Internet to work and after problems the day before as well I headed to a store to get a SIM card for my phone. The guy told me I needed a passport to get one since I am a foreigner but I did not have it with me. After a minute he said not to worry and he sold it to me anyway. Now I have a SIM card and I can use WhatsApp with that and I am much happier now.

Day 658: Sunday, July 3, 2016

Even though my GPS told me it was only a 4 hour trip to Tehran I expected it would take me much longer. The trip included a long ride over a mountain range that runs west to east across Northern Iran. I packed up all my bags and after 3 trips got all my stuff in the lobby of the hotel. From there I went out to my bike to start loading it up.

Literally within 1 minute a car that just came around the corner came to an abrupt stop right in front of me. By now I knew what to expect. Sure enough all 5 passengers came spilling out of the 4 doors of the car and with huge smiles on their faces asked if they could have a picture. I had my picture taken with each one individually and then there were a few more for good measure. The hotel clerk was watching on and laughed as I finally got free to go get the rest of my bags.

On the road there was a repeat of the day before with honks, waves, and cell phone pictures on the move coming my way from all directions. One place I stopped I didn’t even have my helmet off before I was surrounded. Four people from a car parked just ahead of where I parked must have seen me coming. The first thing that did was hand me a bag of fruit.   I took the bag and thanked them profusely.

I knew the trip would take longer than the 4 hours my GPS promised but it was getting ridiculous the amount of time it was taking to make progress. I still could not go without stopping from time to time so I had to get more strategic. I started looking for sharp curves in the road that also had a lot of room on the side to pull over safely. In this way I thought by the time cars from either direction saw me they would not have time to stop themselves. It seemed strange to have to go to this extent but I was running out of options.

The road through the mountains offered spectacular scenery and it was hard not to stop to take pictures. Such a dilemma. Very stop had its price. I did manage to get some pictures nevertheless. Driving from the north and up to the pass there was lush landscape and the temperature went from 34 degrees along the coast to 15 degrees at the pass which must have been over 3,000 meters. Once over the pass which was marked by a long tunnel I emerged to a completely different landscape of brown, bare rocks and the clouds vanished. I was now in the desert. The road dropped quickly and within 15 minutes the temperature was hotter than ever.

It was another 1 ½ hours to Tehran so I pressed on. By the time I arrived in Tehran I was 7 hours on the road and dead tired. I was introduced to Sorush, a Tehran resident and great guy from another biker that I had met in Argentina, Steve back in February when he had just completed his around the world trip. Sorush had helped Steve out in a time of need and Sorush kindly offered to host me while I was in Tehran.

Sorush made me feel so welcome in his home I was very comfortable. His best friend Mustafa came over and the 3 of us talked and laughed late into the night until I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Thank you, Sorush and Mustafa!

A typical view of the mountains on the north side of the mountain range.

A typical view of the mountains on the south side of the mountain pass.

Day 659: Monday, July 4, 2016

The 4^th of July came and went without any notice of it being an American holiday here in Tehran. Sorush and Mustafa took the day off work to spend with me and to show me around. The first order of business was to go to the Turkmenistan Consulate in Tehran to apply for the transit visa that is required to get through Turkmenistan and into Uzbekistan. I was planning to ride my motorcycle there but Sorush was kind enough to offer to take me by his car. It ended up taking about 1 ½ hours to submit the paperwork so it was noon by the time that was done.

From there Sorush drove me to one of his favorite places in Tehran which is one of the old palaces grounds of the Shah prior to 1980. It has been turned into a complex of about 15 different museums each one small in size but with a distinct theme. Upon entering Sorush bought tickets to get into about 5 of the museums. What I was not expecting was the size of the old palace grounds. Each museum was housed in what used to be various homes and other use buildings in the complex. It seemed like we walked forever between museums. At least the location is right at the slopes of the mountains on the north side of Tehran so it was a bit cooler than in the city proper but even then it was hot. The grounds are beautifully landscaped with lots of trees for shade which also helped.

One museum and my favorite one was dedicated to the Omidvar Brothers; two Iranians who in the 1950’s spent 7 years traveling around the world on motorcycles. What they did back then must have been so much more adventurous than what I am doing now. I was in awe.

We were all exhausted after this so we went back to Sorush’s house, had lunch, relaxed, played some backgammon over homemade beers, relaxed some more, had dinner and then headed to bed early.

My new friend in Tehran, Sorush welcoming me to his home.

In front of the Omidvar Brothers Museum in Tehran.

Day 660: Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Sorush had to work today and I had a long ride to Isfahan, my next destination so we were up pretty early. By 9am we were out of the house but before heading out of town Sorush took me to his friend’s repair shop so I could get a much needed oil change. They had the exact kind of oil that I needed which was surprising and great. By 10am I was on the road following Sorush as he guided me to the main freeway heading south to Isfahan before he turned off to head to his office. Thank you Sorush for all your kindness! I really felt at home at your place and your friendship so appreciated.

The freeway south was long and hot but it did offer continually changing desert landscapes that made me feel as if I was riding on the Moon and Mars. I made frequent stops at service areas for gas and water. To fill my tank with gas here costs all of $4 where in Europe it would cost me nearly $30. Such a welcomed difference! And a 1.5 liter bottle of water costs $0.33. Not bad, right?

At each toll booth they waived me on through without paying a toll. I don’t know if this is because motorcycles are free or they were just being nice. At one gas station the attendant did not want to take the money from me saying it was a gift and a big welcome to Iran gesture. His coworker rightfully talked him out of such a gesture of kindness and he took the money. But he did not take back the heartfelt welcome to Iran which was invaluable.

When I pulled into Isfahan my GPS had stopped working as I did not have the proper map installed. I also did not have a clue of where any hotels were since I had not had Internet access for days. I followed the signs to the city center and found a place to pull over under the shade of a protruding tree for protection from the relentless sunbeams. First of all I just needed a few minutes to collect my thoughts and unwind from the stressful ride into the city before trying to figure out where a hotel might be. However, before I could even get calmed down a car pulls up in front of me, puts the car in reverse and stops just in front of my bike. An older guy gets out of the car and comes up to me saying “Can I help you?” Of course this would happen and in this case it was welcomed although about 5 minutes later would have been nice. I told him I was looking for a hotel. He said he could take me to a nice hotel but when I told him my budget he said it would be too expensive but he could take me to an inexpensive place and to follow him. I hurried getting my helmet and gloves back on and off I was again trying to follow this guy in city traffic. Ten minutes later I was stopped in front of a hostel. Bingo. I had no energy left for anything but I did manage to get unloaded and the bike parked so I could relax.

A much needed oil change with Sorush overseeing the work.

Tehran to Isfahan is one big desert with this typical landscape.

Day 661: Wednesday, July 6, 2016

In the morning I made the decision to take a bus to Shiraz tonight instead of taking my bike. It is 500 kilometers south and I would just have to come back to Isfahan anyway. By taking the bus I can go overnight, save a day, and save a night of hotel expense. So I save 1000 kilometers of wear on my tires that I am already going to be stretching thin getting to somewhere where I can get a new set, wherever that is going to be.

By noon I got out of the hostel and went for a long, long walk to see the key sights of Isfahan including the Naqsh-e-Jahan Square, Shah Mosque, and Si-o-Se Pol Bridge. It looked like these places were a lot closer together on the map than they really ended up being so I was once again feeling exhausted when I got back to the hostel 3 hours later. The heat has a way of sapping the energy right out of you.

My bus isn’t until 11:30pm so I have spent the entire evening here at the hostel catching up on my blog and getting it updated on the site. It is so nice to finally have Internet access that is working relatively reliably.

Probably Isfahan’s most popular attraction; Naqsh-e-Jahan Square & Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque.

Shah Mosque located at the south end of Naqsh-e-Jahan Square.

Seemingly no longer needed Si-o-Se Pol Bridge. The river has been dry for over 3 years now.

Day 662: Thursday, July 7, 2016

The bus ride worked out great. It left pretty much on time and the seats were spacious and comfortable enough that I could sleep without a problem. The only hiccup was when I woke up at 3:30am needing to take a pee. I got up and looked around and there was no toilet to be found. There was a young guy that for some reason was wide awake so I asked him if there was a toilet totally expecting a response in the affirmative only to get a “no” answer. OMG. “What am I going to do?” I thought. I sat back in my seat, tried to sleep unsuccessfully due to my condition and hoped the bus would stop at some point. It has to, right?! Sure enough about 45 minutes later we stopped at a rest area and everyone got off the bus and made a mad dash to the toilets. One thing about Iran; there are no urinals so even the men’s room had a lineup.

Upon arriving I got a taxi to the hostel I had reserved. It was still only 7am. At 7:30am they had an organized tour going to Petropolis and The Tomb of Darius 1 in Naqsh-e Rustam. That is what I came to Shiraz for so was pleased with my timing. Thirty minutes after arriving I was off to see the major attractions of the area.

I was expecting Petropolis to be similar to Ephesus in Turkey but found out instantly that it was not. It is not the ruins of an ancient city but that of an ancient palace. Thus, the size of the site was small. It did have a feature that I had never seen before in the form of very well preserved carvings on a long rock wall. For that reason alone I enjoyed the visit.

The Tomb of Darius 1 was impressive with 4 large tombs carved out of the face of a large rock cliff. The most impressive part of this was again the carvings in the rock but these being huge. During the tour I got to know a couple from Norway, Henrik and Katrine. They are staying at the same hostel at which I am staying.

As is becoming a habit during the afternoon I stayed inside. It is just too hot to be out in the sun. At sunset I took a walk to a nearby mosque. It was right at prayer time so there were thousands of worshipers in the mosque. I stood very quietly with my back tight against a large pillar to be as inconspicuous as possible. No one paid me any attention. The sights at the mosque at night, swarming with people were impressive to say the least. I felt very much out of my element and out of my comfort range but I stuck it out for quite some time before heading back to my hostel.

Here I am at the ancient palace of Persepois near Shiraz, Iran.

The most interesting and unique aspect of Persepolis is the well preserved rock wall carvings.

The most interesting and unique aspect of Persepolis is the well preserved rock wall carvings.

Here I am in front of a large stone carving at the Tomb of Darius I.

My new Norwegian friends Henrik and Katrine.

The heart of Shiraz at night.

Day 663: Friday, July 8, 2016

Today was a travel day.  My bus was at 10:30am and it got me back to Isfahan at 5:00pm.  Traveling during the day I got to take in the scenery which I had missed by taking the night bus the day before.  The scenery in this area is truly impressive.  Rock mountains of very ominous shapes littered the landscape.  I have seen many different mountain ranges all over the world and these were unique in of themselves.  It kind of reminded me of the mountains in and around Phoenix but on a much more massive scale.

Upon arrival at the bus terminal in Isfahan I decided to try my hand at the local public bus transportation.  Instead of $3.33 that a cab would have cost I paid only $0.33 for the bus ride.  Being my first ride on a public bus in Iran I was surprised when I saw that the bus was physically divided into the front and back.  All the women were in the back and the men in the front.

Back at the same hostel I stayed at 2 nights prior in Isfahan I got re-settled.  I repacked all my bags so I am ready to ride again tomorrow, worked on a visa application for China, and worked on my blog.  I also rethought my near term plans.  When I left Tehran I was planning to go to the historical city of Yazd about 300 kilometers to the southeast of Isfahan next.  From there I was going to head to Mashhad in the east to pick up my Turkmenistan visa there.  But after experiencing the heat and dessert in this part of Iran I came up with a better plan.  I will head back to Tehran and wait for my Turkmenistan visa there.  Once I get the visa I can then head straight for Turkmenistan.  I will see less of Iran this way but let’s face it I am just here at the wrong time of year.  The heat is a killer.

Day 664: Saturday, July 9, 2016

I was not thrilled with the idea of having to ride back to Tehran today or anywhere for that matter. It is just so hot. I planned for an early start but that rarely happens in actuality. And today was no different. Finally at 10:00am I was on my bike.

Glutting for punishment and apparently losing any sense that I had last night when adjusting my travel plan I decided to stop at the Fire Temple of Isfahan which was 10 kilometers from my hostel. On the map it looked like it was kind of on my way so what the heck. It turned out not to be on the way.

When I arrived I found out that the temple is on top of a very high hill. The idea is to hike up the hill to see the temple and get a good city view. From the bottom looking up it does appear that there is some substance to the temple. I was not at all thrilled when I was told the admission was equivalent to $5 USD and there was no elevator or cable car to take me to the top. Really what am I paying for?! But by now I was there so there was nowhere to go but up.

It was still morning so it was “only” 38 degrees instead of the planned high for the day of 44 degrees. The hike took about 30 minutes to get to the top and the closer and closer I got to the top the less and less I was encouraged that I had made the right decision in going there.   At the top it turns out that there is practically nothing left of the temple and everything there was to see, other than a hazy view of the city, was viewable from below. I took the obligatory pictures and got down as quickly as I could.

At 12:00 I was back on the bike heading out of town and thus another late start. The 6 hour ride back to Tehran got worse and worse with every passing hour. Two hours into the ride the thermometer rose to a blistering 43 degrees. In addition a wind appeared and strengthened. For about a 2 hour stretch I fought a 60~80kph crosswind that was reminiscent of northern Peru. Visibility was low with the blowing dust and my faceplate was getting dusty as well making it hard to see. I made frequent stops to hydrate and clean off my faceplate.

Coming into one city the road had been very recently repaved and in the heat I think it was melting in a sense. There was a traffic circle ahead of me so I downshifted and braked to slow down from the highway speed of 120kph. On my second downshift at about 60kph suddenly the bike began to fishtail. It felt just like hydroplaning and my heart immediately found its way into my throat. For what seemed like an eternity but 2 seconds later I found myself alone in the middle of the traffic circle back on old pavement and still upright by some miracle.

In all of my 80,000 kilometers of riding I have never had my tires totally lose grip of the road in this fashion and I never want it to happen again. It was a huge traffic circle but with little traffic so I stopped on at the inner curb, parked the bike into the wind so as not to be blown over, and sat on the curb to calm myself down. I have not been able to wear my protective riding pants since leaving Tbilisi due to the extreme heat but after this incident I decided as long as the wind is this strong I was going to need to put my pants on. With my protective pants on and my wits back about me I got back on my bike and proceeded with great caution.

The pants only last for 30 minutes before the skin on my legs actually felt like it was frying and they had to come off again.   Fortunately the last 1 ½ hours the wind died down a bit to where it was no longer posing a risk. However, I was still not out of the woods. The wind was replaced by increased traffic and the craziness of the inner city traffic of Tehran which I can say is the craziest that I have seen anywhere that I have yet to travel.

Through all this I arrived safely to my hostel. The owner Jalal was very welcoming and I felt safe for the first time in 6 hours. I parked the bike in their courtyard and practically fell off the bike onto the ground. Before I could do anything else other than throw off my helmet and hot and heavy riding jacket I went straight for the cooler on the opposite side of the courtyard and downed 2 bottles of cold water. I literally could not move for 10 minutes as my body processed the much needed liquid. It took the rest of the evening to recuperate after the day’s ordeal.

The most impressive part of the Fire Temple of Isfahan.

The City of Isfahan as seen from the Fire Temple.

Day 665: Sunday, July 10, 2016

The first task at hand for the day was to go to the Turkmenistan and Chinese consulates. I took my bike since time was tight and I didn’t want to risk not figuring out the subways and buses. I am not sure that it was a wise decision because I really did feel like the chance of an accident is 100 times greater in the city than most anywhere else I’ve been.

Turkmenistan was first. When I applied last week I was told it would take 9 days so I was not really expecting it would be ready but I wanted to give it a try. Upon inquiring I was not pleasantly surprised but instead was told that maybe it would be ready tomorrow. Oh well. What can you do? At least I was not told my application had been denied.

Next was the Chinese Consulate. I was sure I had all the documents I required so walked in with confidence. The guy that helped me was quite nice and spoke good English which was a big plus. He informed me that I “had it almost right.” But almost with these things is never good enough. I was told that I needed a letter of invitation from an “official agency” in China. He indicated that the letter of invitation I had was from a non-official agency. He said if I contact my agency they will know what that means and can help me. I immediately called my agency in China and asked for the correct letter. I was told it would take 3 days which is too late for me. Hopefully he will come through with the letter for me by Tuesday.

When I got back to the hostel I parked my bike, sighed with relief that I made it back without incident, and vowed not to ride it again in Tehran until it was for the purpose of placing Tehran in my rearview mirror. The rest of the day I spent at the hostel making use of their good Internet to update my blog. In the evening a Japanese man, Yasu arrived. He and I hit it off well and enjoyed a lot of conversation and dinner together. He also quit his job to travel around the world like me so we had a lot of stories to share.

With my new friend, Jalal, the owner of “7 Hostel” in Tehran.

Jalal & Reza in the courtyard at “7 Hostel” Tehran.

Day 666: Monday, July 11, 2016

There was not much I could do in regard to visas today. Even if the Turkmenistan visa was approved I decided that I would get my China visa in Tehran which means I would not leave here until Thursday at the earliest. I did call the Turkmenistan Consulate and found out that there was no answer yet on my application. Later in the day Ablimit at the tour company in China came through with the new letter of invitation so I could make the application at the Chinese Consulate tomorrow.

Again the weather was hot and I could not get myself to go out of the hostel and there is no sightseeing in Tehran that I am much interested in seeing so that offered me no incentive. In the evening Sorush and Mustafa came by my hostel, picked me up, and we drove across town to a restaurant that serves something other than kebabs. It was the nicest restaurant I’ve been to in Iran. They even had a salad bar with genuine Thousand Island dressing. I think that was the first American style salad I have had in the past 10 weeks. That along with cream of mushroom soap really hit the spot. The only thing missing was a nice glass of red wine. Although the restaurant served an international fare when they brought the food it turns out that Sorush and Mustafa had order kebabs! I don’t know why I was surprised.

After dinner we drove to a large park on top of a mountain offering a great view of the whole of Tehran below. Interestingly, for a city the size of Tehran there are no skyscrapers to be found.

Dinner with my friends Sorush and Mustafa at a nice restaurant.

Day 667: Tuesday, July 12, 2016

I started the day with a trip to the Turkmenistan Consulate to see if my visa was ready. I am beginning to worry more and more that it might be rejected. Each day I go there I meet other travelers and it seems like several have been denied or have met others who were denied.   I met one gal today that had waited 3 weeks to get her visa but in the end it was approved. Today I was simply told that there was no answer and I would have to try again tomorrow.

I decided to leave the motorcycle at the hostel today. After Sunday’s outing I felt it was just more dangerous than it was worth. Tehran is easily the most dangerous city I have ever ridden in. Because of this I took the subway for the first time. Tehran has an extensive subway system. The surprise for me was to find that there are women-only cars on the train. Apparently women can ride in the non-women only cars but few do. I even saw one husband, wife, and 5 year old son walking on the platform hand-in-hand but when the train came the wife entered the women-only section of the car and the husband and boy in the other section. In a car that is split in half the sections are separated by a large plexiglass barrier. From my perspective it was really sad to see the mother on one side of the plexiglass with the little boy with his hands and face pressed up to the plexiglass trying to get to his mother on the other side.

Next it was off to the Chinese Consulate to apply for that visa. I now had all the required documents so I was confident it would all go well. When I got there I was able to successfully submit the application but I had to request express service since I needed to get the passport back by Thursday in case my Turkmenistan visa gets approved. Due to this the visa cost $170 USD instead of $110 USD. The costs associated with visas just keeps going up. Why can’t world just be free of borders?

On my way back towards the hostel I decided to get off the subway at the station where the old US Embassy is located. Walking up the sidewalk I heard my name called out so I turned around to look, not at all believing there would be anyone in Tehran that would know me.   I saw 2 guys running towards me that I had met last night at the hostel. One guy is from Germany and the other is a young Iranian. They were on their way to a nearby coffee shop and invited me to tag along.   Not having anything else to do for the day I went along. At the coffee shop some of the Iranian guys friends came by and we all had a nice chat. They are all in their early 20’s so it was a unique opportunity to hear the views of the younger generation of Iranians.

At about 9pm I connected with Sorush again and he invited me over to his house for dinner. Jalal at my hostel ordered me a taxi. When I got in the taxi I found that the driver spoke some English. We started talking and it turns out he is 78 years old and lived in the US for 2 years back in 1961. Talking more I discovered that he had lived in Japan for 5 years back in 1985. I was so shocked when he said a few words in Japanese. I then spoke back to him in Japanese and he responded with Japanese in full sentences. I guess we were both surprised by the other’s ability to speak Japanese but we soon discovered that we could communicate better with each other in Japanese than English. So there we were driving through Tehran, a 78 year old Iranian and a 55 year old American talking and laughing in Japanese together.

He is a master backgammon player and I told him I wanted to play a game with him. I don’t really understand how there is much to the game but the luck of the dice so I was curious just how badly he would beat me. We made arrangements to meet tomorrow at noon and he will take me to his house for lunch and backgammon. I’m excited for that adventure.

He dropped me at my friend’s house at 10pm and he came back at midnight and took me back to my hostel.

A chance to talk with some of the youth of Iran. Very interesting.

Day 668: Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Other than making a trip to the Turkmenistan Consulate in the morning only to be told there was no answer as of yet I spent the day at the hostel. I used the day to catch up on my blogging and considering my options in the case my Turkmenistan visa was denied.

In the evening Jalal, the hostel owner invited me to join him for dinner. I have really enjoyed my talks with him while staying here and consider him a true friend. Jalal, if you are reading this please know that I sincerely wish you all the best in your business ventures!

Day 669: Thursday, July 14, 2016

My Turkmenistan visa was at the front of my mind from the moment I woke. Today felt like it was do or die day for my visa. After 4 straight days of going there and being told “not yet” and seeing person after person being denied there applications I was really nervous. It took every ounce of energy and training I had from reading over and over Dale Carnegie’s “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living” to not worry about it. If I did not get the visa today they would be closed until Sunday (Friday and Saturday is the “weekend” in Iran) and then it would be impossible to get in and out of Turkmenistan before the dates that were on my application.

My first stop of the day however was the Chinese Consulate to pick up my Chinese visa which I paid $170 for. When they gave me my passport I looked at the visa and to my dismay it was for a single entry, only good for 1 month, and worst of all I had to enter the country within 30 days meaning August 13. That was not going to happen so I immediately realized I had just wasted $170 and time and energy. Damn.

Next stop, the Turkmenistan Consulate. I drove straight to it. No surprise on my 5^th day in a row. I got there 10 minutes before it opened and talked with 2 other guys, one with a car and one with a moped (seriously!) trying for their transit visas as well. The moped guy was the first up. The official stuck his hand out the window giving the guy his passport and said “denied”.   First of all I felt genuinely terrible for the guy as the other options are very bleak.   Next up was me.   I think I was shaking when I stuck my face in to get today’s news. This time the official said “Mr Lovely, …” “…your visa is ready.” I grabbed my passport, swallowed my heart which was in my throat, and feel to my knees. The difference between approval and denial was more than I can possibly describe in words. As it is everything will work out just fine all the way to Kyrgyzstan.

I headed straight back to the hostel as I was emotionally drained. The whole afternoon was spent just working on my computer planning my route ahead, downloading and installing maps into my GPS, and organizing all my things.   I expected a relaxing evening.

At 5pm my computer decided to just turn off. It would not come back on. Without my computer I cannot survive I am sure. Instead of a relaxing evening it turned into a nightmare. One of the guys that works at the hostel and is a master guide, Mohammad was very supportive and told me he could take me to a mall where there is everything related to electronics so we could try and get it fixed. It was a place over an hour away by walking, subway, and then taxi. I really did not feel I had the mental energy to do it. I was ready to give up knowing it was late on a Thursday night and I thought repair places would be closed and the effort would be wasted. I thought a good analogy would be breaking your tooth at 5pm on a Friday night in the States.

Mohammad was persistent though. He insisted we go. I felt bad for him as well as I knew the time and effort it would require but I did give in and we went. Getting to the mall we went to several different shops in the mall. Nobody could solve our problem. Some of the repair places were indeed closed. But Mohammad would not give up. After 30 minutes of running from shop to shop we went into one that decided to try a new charger instead of the one I had. Using that they were able to get the computer to come back to life. I could not believe my eyes. I really thought the computer was toast. Mohammad was my hero today. Without his persistence and kindheartedness my computer would still be just a heavy paperweight. He would not let me pay him for the taxi rides, subway rides, or even the dinner he bought me on the way back to the hostel. That is one kind human being. Mohammad if you are reading this know that I am forever grateful to you!

Day 670: Friday, July 15, 2016

Today was a day totally committed to riding. When I first got on my bike this morning I planned to go about 400 kilometers to a city half way between Tehran and the border with Turkmenistan. To get all the way to the last city before the border was 800+ kilometers and that is nearly impossible for one day.

I got an earlier than normal start hoping to beat the heat. By the time I covered 400 kilometers it was only 2pm and I did not want to waste the rest of the day sitting in a hotel. In addition, I was feeling surprisingly well. The temps were between 30 degrees and 34 degrees up to that point which is fairly manageable. I made a decision 100 meters before the exit ramp to the city to press on and press on I did.

All along the route there was what looked like ancient ruins of mud buildings but I really don’t know the story about these and will need to ask an Iranian friend. Maybe they are not so old and it also may be a building technic still used today in this area of the country. Anyway I found it interesting to look at as it broke the monotony of the empty dessert. I also saw one huge herd (?) of camel.   There must have been 200 or more of them. It was probably just a camel ranch if there is such a thing.

I was still 1 hour from my destination of Quchan, Iran when the sun set. I got a nice picture or 2 of the sunset and from there I was breaking a golden rule of not riding at night. Fortunately the road was pretty good and I made it no problem. After 825 kilometers I was more than ready to stop. I went to the hotel I was hoping to stay at but they were booked up. There was only one more hotel in the city the best I could tell. It was another 5 minutes down the road but because there was no sign in English saying hotel it ended up taking me 15 minutes to find it. It was a very, very basic hotel and I just had to tell myself “It is only for one night. You can do it.” The shower and toilet were shared and were not at all clean and smelled disgusting. By the time I got settled in it was past 11pm. I went out to find dinner since I had not had a proper meal all day and of course everything was closed so I just gave up and went without food. Oh well. I did fall asleep in less than 30 seconds of my head hitting the pillow.

I don’t know what these are but I saw a lot of them along the road today.

I guess I am in Central Asia now. Camels ahead.

A beautiful sunset but I am still on the road.