PART 3 CONTINUED, ISTANBUL TO SHARJAH



12/6/11
Two weeks of heavy shopping have come to an end, the family have gone home fully laden for the next twelve months and I am off again. First tram and a short scooter ride to the Istanbul bike club head quarters to pick up the bike and I am on my way to Samsun on the black sea coast.Thanks go out for the friendship and help from Zeki and Adil, they really are great guys ready to put themselves out to help.
Hotel on the outskirts of Samsun 40 Euros and very good.



   13/6/11

                                       Samsun to Erzurum

Followed the Black Sea coast to Espiye and lunch stop with a member of the Istanbul Club, Yusuf  and his friend/translator.A bit further on and turned to go over the mountains to Erzurum. Two weeks of sun in Istanbul had me worrying that I might be too hot.The fears were unfounded as apart from the lashing rain it was freezing cold at the snow line. One thing about Turkey is that in general the roads are really good and the signage is fabulous making it very easy to navigate.

 I entered Erzurum looking for a hotel.Now, playing dodgems with the traffic and looking for a hotel is not easy and I had just about given up when I asked a taxi driver who was attempting to hit my rear wheel if there were any hotels.He directed me to a nearby street and lo and behold there were about six hotels all in a row. 3 star 40 Euros.



LOOKING BACK TO MT ARARAT

I have been pleasantly surprised by Turkey, what I saw was a vibrant, friendly society well worth another visit before the supermarkets and  fast food outlets suck all the character out.



                                                14/6/11

                                       Erzurum to Maku

 Two hundred miles to the border and arrived about 13:00hrs. Why are land border areas always seedy and peopled by the worst kind of humanity, conmen and touts?.Luckily for-warned is for-armed so all help was refused and the leaving of Turkey took about ten minutes and that only because there is no '0' in Turkish numerology. A short hiccup when the electric motor for the Iron gate into Iran cratered and volunteers ( motorists) manhandled it open.

 Onward into the unknown.

 The formalities are fairly simple and nothing was asked for from a lowly tourist.There was a delay however when the officer filling out the vehicle temporary import docs had to call for the local security company to empty the money from his drawer.It is quite comical ( if the morality is ignored.) when viewing as a spectator because the money was literally passed " under the table "

 With a "welcome to Iran" I was on my way or so I thought, and this is the clever bit. about 250 metres down the road there is a final gate and there I was stopped by the police who collect the clearance papers and told that another stamp should have been given and I had to go back to the Red building to get it.Of course there were people there to help(scam) I was advised. Long story short it took another hour and a half to get insurance and the final stamp.I was lucky because I knew the price of the insurance (30 dollars) because the office inside the customs area asks for 100 Euros. Nobody speaks English but there is another office 100 yards away selling at the correct price.

 One bit of research I hadn't done was the time zone which changed by an hour and a half so the night was spent in a pleasant tourist hotel in Maku. 36 USD.

                                            14/6/11

                                     Maku to Zanjan

 The first thing that strikes me is the quality of the roads and the fact that generally there is little litter. I don't know what I was expecting but the scenery is very very good and every time I stop people approach and try to communicate.I stopped for fuel and enjoyed a refreshment break ( as opposed to a comfort break) with a Turkish biker from Istanbul en route to Kabul.

 Now I know there are not many tourists here but when people keep coming and taking photos you have to wonder!!

 We set off in tandem but were separated going through Tabriz.I am now sure Iranians are the worst drivers in the world. Iranians are only allowed bikes up to 250 ccs so anybody riding a bigger bike is a tourist. with my heart in my mouth and promising to be good if I got through the ordeal of the lunch time rush, I wondered what the incessant beeping from behind was.Anyway I had a chat with a local biker on his way to Azerbaijan on a roundabout in the centre of Tabriz.I was a little concerned with the traffic but it seemed quite a normal occurrence to him.

 After a very enjoyable ride I rode in to Zanjan and armed with the address of an hotel I hired a taxi to lead me there.Experience brings wisdom. Common sense would be probably more useful.



A ZANJAN ROUNDABOUT



15/6/11

Zanjan to Esfahan

The weather has been getting hotter and my stomach has just about been behaving itself despite the changes in food and water. Looped around Tehran to avoid the traffic and came the scenic route.A really nice road, this is a beautiful country. Stopped twice for document checks, seems an out of date international licence suffices for this.The officers are quite friendly and the second ones wanted a photo and a blip of the accelerator.

 I have discovered that blogs are censored here, I am updating in a hotel lobby. I arrived completely exhausted and dehydrated so will stay two nights.Just had a very very lucky escape.The rooms are like small bungalows around a big gardens, I decided to wash the trousers and shirt I was standing up in and was debating whether to sneak out to hang the washing out without rooting in my bag for more clothes,I decided against it. After hanging the washing I went to the reception in bare feet to get a key to get back into my room. 





TOURIST COMPLEX ROOM ESFAHAN




ESFAHAN

                                                                         17/6/11

Esfahan to Sirjan

I must be wising up,after arriving in Esfahan completely exhausted I decided it would be better avoiding the worst of the heat and set off at five in the morning.I was a bit worried as it was already decidedly hot and the man from the shipping agency told me it would start getting hot after Sirjan.Anyway me and the trucks were on the road nice and early and me and the trucks were going to the same place,the main port in Iran, Bandar Abbas.Actually the going was ok because the roads were dual carriageway all the way almost.The pleasant scenery was left behind and the first 80 miles were almost dead straight and then there was a turn, just enough so that the sun was directly in my eyes. The land was mostly desert now and the people looked and dressed differently,more like people from the Stans.




NEW FRIENDS ON THE ROAD



  I had a general feeling that areas were more dishevelled and less cared for,all this as I figured out the solution for the uprisings in the Middle East.

 Learning as I go along I filled up just before Sirjan and enquired if there was a hotel, follow me said one of the by-standers who were fiddling with my GPS and he led me into town to an hotel.

 It was only One o'clock so I had a siesta and then had a walk around the local market.The smells of these places make them very enticing, and the beauty is that there are no tourists so what you get is a snapshot of local life,I have to wonder,when seeing the cobbler at work and another guy repairing all manner of electric items,all with bits that were lying around , if we are better off living life on a treadmill just to be able to buy more stuff which then falls apart and we throw it away.You never know,that old electric fan that was thrown out might be in pride of place in a house in Sirjan Iran.

 

 

 

 

 

 



COOKING ON GAS.

 Another thing that crossed my mind as I listened to the soothing lyrics of Eminem on my IPod was that poetry still sells,you just have to market it to the right audience.

 I asked a couple of people if they minded me photographing them, having to show one what a photo was.One vendor from a spice stall insisted that he take a picture of me inside his stall.(Why does a small container of spice cost so much in western countries when they are selling it by the bucket loads in these countries and the farmers are so poor?)He took me around and showed me the old parts of the market and offered to run me around to show me the rest of the town.Another vendor took me into his small shop and was showing me birds that he sold.Some looked like budgies and some were like miniature ones that he said came from Pakistan.

 In the big cities the women and girls wore scarves and it didn't seem too "heavy".In this area a lot of the womenfolk are completely covered and as I said before the general atmosphere was not the same.Later,during dinner, I was chatting with someone ( I use chatting in the loosest form of the word) and he told me that Sirjan was a centre for a particular trade that originates in Afganistan.He also asked me if it was true about Ryan Giggs and informed me that he was no longer his hero.

 19/6/11

Sirjan to Bandar Abbas

Using my new ploy and expecting it to get warm, I set off at 5AM and joined the procession of diesel guzzling,smoke belching trucks (I thought that up on the road).By 8am it had to be into the thirties and was above forty with a fair percentage of humidity by the time I arrived,dripping in sweat, at the shipping office at 9am.Ticket bought and in the hotel by 10:30.
  It never ceases to amaze me how there is an affinity between people of similar backgrounds.Most of the men in the shipping office were previously sea going so a certain amount of shooting the proverbial went on over a chai and it turned out the freight guy knew my home town well and was telling me about some of the bars.( not that he partook you understand. )

 One thing I have been disappointed with is the food,suffice it to say that I won't be seeking out any Iranian restaurants. I am now,however, an expert on chicken Kebab and white rice.



WHEN IS COKE NOT AN AMERICAN COMPANY?
(ANSWER: WHEN IT'S MADE IN IRAN)

 I am sorry that due to time constraints and commitments,I have just raced through and not taken the time to see more,I will just have to come through slower when en route to the Karakorum highway.

 I have done 2700 miles in six days of riding and there have been some mornings that it was almost impossible to get going but it has been ace and my bum aches.

 I am wondering what sort of shenanigans there are to get the paperwork sorted out tomorrow,I have been told that it will just be a few dollars here and there.I just hope the sea is not rough.

 

I'm still on the same set of tyres that came with the bike and even after 8000+ miles there is still some life in them.They will have to be changed for the next leg however.

                                                                          20/6/11

Leaving Iran

Bright and early to the port and five hours going from office to office copying documents over and over again. slightly frustrating not really knowing what was going on.One Iranian guy helped me out,he was coming the other way and told me that for 30 dollars his stuff was sorted out fairly easily.Unfortunately the party in question didn't speak any English so couldn't ask me.

  Got about half way through the process and was paired up with another Iranian and we did the last six offices together (with him riding pillion.)

  By about 1:30pm it was all done and I put the bike on the boat and with instructions to be back at 7pm a lie down called.

 Unfortunately photographs were not allowed at the port but when I got back in the evening there was already a queue of people( migrant workers and traders mostly )with what seemed like tons of foodstuffs to be carried back to Sharjah( one woman had 300 kg ).I got chatting to an airgun dealer from Shiraz and he saved me a place on the boat explaining that it was the best place for sleeping, he did add that the extra room available was because there was a bit of a smell that came from the toilets.That turned out to be the biggest understatement of all times and I nearly keeled over when I couldn't hold out any longer. I am faced with a choice of losing a load of wt. or seriously strengthening my legs as it's hard work raising up from the squatting position with nothing to hold on to!!!especially when clinging to conciousness.

 It was noticeable that situations that in other countries would involve a lot pushing and shoving were orderly and disciplined in Iran with no pushing in.




APPROACHING THE DOCK IN SHARJAH

   The arrival in Sharjah involved being shepherded to immigration and then going through the import procedures for the bike,a relatively straight forward procedure that I could at least follow.There is evidently special treatment for arrivals from Iran seemingly because of drugs.Nobody could move anywhere untill the sniffer dog had done what the name suggests.The immigration and customs officers seemed to class me differently to the other passengers( inviting me to sit with them and giving me a bottle of water )and, in fact, I had completed all the import procedures before the last of the foot passengers were through customs.

 It's very satisfying (although maddening at the time) learning new skills and all the import/export involved in this form of  travelling can only get easier.
 There was no insurance available at the dock and none was asked for.All the way back to my accomodation my mind ran riot with thoughts of an altercation with a Ferrari or Maserati on the Sheik Zayed road and when I tried to get a Salik card at a petrol station and a police car pulled in behind me I was prepared for at least solitary confinement.
 Two hours on the telephone and I found temporary insurance,something that has eluded most who have come before me.

 The bike is booked for a service and new tyres ready for the next leg,Djibouti to Uganda.

     23/6/11

Collected the bike back from service. Extra costs incurred for new rear disc and a set of knobblies.

  The bike looks the real deal now for the dirt roads to come, shame about the rider.