Archive for the ‘Iran’ Category


‘We are from the information police. Come with us.’
An ID was waved in front of us by one of the young men, clad in a leather jacket, that had pulled us over with their motor scooter. This resulted in a ride downhill back into the village, SD cards checked, sparkling grape juice drank, and word of a letter to all young Americans and Europeans (like us) from the great leader Khomeni.

Eating watermelons

Eating watermelons

Eating watermelons

Eating watermelons

But, of course, we don’t have a photo of the interrogation (thank goodness – a photo of that would have taken some explaining). We do have footage of us consuming watermelons – which has now been checked by the information police. There were many watermelon sellers on the side of the road. We were also invited in by a shop-keeper that is an avid cyclist. He showed us lots of photos of his cycling trips through Iran.

The wind was with us, and had blown us up the hill from Tabriz. We were leaving the small town of Bostanabad, and were pleased to have climbed the last hill before the next town many kilometres away. Not to be, as we were pulled over by two young men, beards neatly trimmed, that had the air of religious missionaries.
‘How are you? Please come with us.’
We really didn’t want to, all the way back downhill, but it became clear that refusing was not an option. Down we went, receiving repeated apologies.
Into the army barracks.
‘This is a camera?’ They were looking at the GoPro. ‘Give me the SD card. And your passports.’
Then we were ushered inside.
‘Do you speak Farsi?’
‘No.’
Then the water came out. And then the red grape sparkling juice.
The great leader was watching us from his portrait on the wall.
‘He is our great leader: Khomeni. Have you studied him?’
Um.. Not sure of the answer there.
‘Have you read the letter he has written to all young Americans and Europeans?’
‘Have you got it there?’ asked James. ‘Is it on the internet?’
An answer was not forthcoming.
‘You should study the letter.’
I would love to.

After about 20 minutes, my GoPro SD card with watermelon consumption footage was returned (formatted with all photos and videos deleted), and we were allowed to continue.

We now find ourselves in the ruins of a Silk Road caravan sarai. We set-up shop, cooked our dinner in a little arched alcove, and did the dishes, all before dark.

Preparing dinner

Preparing dinner

Preparing dinner

Preparing dinner

Oh. And yesterday was our day off – we walked around the Grand Bazaar in Tabriz, seeing fluorescent chicks, piles of sugar cubes, and whatever the heart desires.

Fluorescent chicks

Fluorescent chicks


Sun and tailwind on a boring road. As we approached Tabriz the traffic increased, and we plied the city freeways to the hotel we had to book to get our Iranian visa. Tomorrow a day of R&R to see Tabriz and finally shake off this cold.

Marand at sunrise

Marand at sunrise

The day started with a glorious sunrise at the mountain cottage in Marand, and then a welcome breakfast with Akbar and the team. After that, it was over a hill and along a flat to Tabriz, with my raking cough increasing in frequency and volume.


Mohammed’s face is lit by the flickering light as we sit around the fire next to his little hut, perched on the top of the hill overlooking Marand. The shepherd has brought his flock back to sleep, and we sit and breathe in the silence.

The sheep at sunset

The sheep at sunset

James and I are the 545th and 546th cyclists to be welcomed by Akbar in Marand. We are the 6th and 7th guests that have had the fortune to stay with Mohammed in his solitary hut. We walk around the bald hill as the sun sinks behind the mountains, bathing the landscape in an orange, soft light. The sheep grazing in the evening light are being moved on by the shepherd on a donkey. It is an idyllic place. Around the campfire and in the hut, silence reigns. Just the crackling of the wood stove and the whooshing of the light breeze.

The hut perched on the hill

The hut perched on the hill

Sunset at Marand

Sunset at Marand

Riding the donkey

Riding the donkey

The shepherd

The shepherd

Akbar is known far and wide in the cyclist community. The truck drivers plying the highway alert Akbar of oncoming cyclists, and so he is always there to greet them and usher them back to his shop. And so it was today. Sitting in Akbar’s shop, sipping tea and eating cake, looking out at the street bathed in sunshine, we think back on the day. We feel like we have entered a different world. The sun is shining, it is warm, and it feels like we are finally in the Middle-East.

Akbar's shop

Akbar’s shop

Friends in Marand

Friends in Marand


We are in Iran! Yay!!! Today we cycled along the most amazing valley. Steep, barren mountains rising vertically upwards towards the heavens. Snow-capped mountains in the distance. And it is warmer. We have crossed into a new world.

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa

The valley started like a deep chasm with cliff-faces rising up on both sides. Slowly, it opened out. Grassy plains, poppies swaying in the (head) wind, and massive peaks looming behind. We stopped often for photos, and rejoiced the warmer weather.

Steep chasms

Steep chasms

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa

The road to Jolfa