Tabriz: Mission Iran Overland

Mullahs Plotting, Tabriz
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Arrival At the Border

And so I head for the border. The first to greet me is one of these very pleasant (not) moneychangers that wants to empty my pockets of Turkish Lira. It was a good chance to get rid of the Eu6 worth of it that I had. Up to the Turkish exit point, stamp, I'm gone. Up to the Iranian entry point, there isn't too much traffic. There's actually a padlock on the gate.

'Welcone to the Islamic Republic or Iran' the sign read with a picture of the Ayatollah beaming from beside it. On to the emigration desk, and I'm in. Immediately my passport is taken by an official that is trying to figure out the difference between Irish and English. He just knows that Ireland knocked Iran out of the World Cup four years ago. He was from the department of tourism and brought me to his office to register. He took it upon himself to extend his duties beyond this though.

Jameh Mosque, Tabriz
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Amir started by writing down how I would get from the border to the nearest town 10km away for the afternoon bus to Tabriz. After writing it all down in detail he walked me to the door, locking the tourism office. He said that he would accompany me in a taxi to the main gate of the border control. In the end, about 2 hours later when I'm waiting for the Tabriz bus in Maku, I had to tell him it's time to go home. All I could see was his face cringing trying to remember more stuff to tell me. My introduction to Iran!

The Way of The Buses
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Confusion straight away. Iran is supposed to be 3 1/2 hours ahead of GMT, but the president decided this year that they didn't need to change their clocks for the summer. I checked about three different peoples watches to make sure I wasn't being lead astray on that one!

Tabriz

I arrive in Tabriz on my first day with Farsi script. The bus was bound for Tehran, so it just stopped at some random point on the outskirts of the town and off I got. Not a clue where I was or how to get into the city. Luckily with petrol at Eu 0.08 a liter, there are plenty of taxi's about. There's always someone close by with those few words of English and I get a taxi chartered to roam the streets and find me a hotel.

Kandovan
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It's about 20:30 and the town is alive. It seems like everyone is on the move, and in a hurry. A big difference from the Kurdish towns in Turkey where they disappear with darkness. All women covered from head to toe in accordance with the Islamic law of their country. Most in the chador, a black robe worn by Muslim women that covering them from head to toe. Many hold it closed around their face by holding it between their teeth.

Next day I set out to explore the city and hopefully make it to nearby Kandovan. The first mission, however was trying to cross the road. The 'pedestrian crossings' is not for the nervous. You just have to weave with the others through the solid lanes of cars, that don't make too much effort to slow. When I was standing looking puzzled at how I was getting across a local actually stopped to check if I was lost! I eventually shadowed a couple of others and went for it. Again, the streets were alive.

Kandovan
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I head for the 500 year old bazaar. It's well concealed off the main street, but when I was approached by about four money changers on the street, I knew it wasn't too far off. The bazaar is a fabulous maze of red brick covered alleyways with larger covered courtyards. Old men are the mules for transporting the goods around, with mini carts similar to what a mule would have. They fly down the alleys taking all in their path. I stopped to talk to the owner of a corner antiques shop. A retired history teacher. Was I about at closing time to go to the shisha tea shop with him? At the same time I meet Reza, a local guide, who takes me under his wing for the rest of the day.

Kandovan
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We continued through the bazaar and exit through the Jameh Mosque. There were Mullahs (Muslim priests) everywhere. We went into the mosque and one of them wanted to interview me, with Reza as interpreter. Being interviewed by a Mullah in a strict Islamic Republic, I declined. I didn't want to end up in jail just yet. After visiting the Constitution House across the road, we set out for Kandovan, about 50km away. The bus journey highlighted the complications of travel in the Islamic Republic. Men and women can sit together if they are married. So the people shuffle at stops to make sure that they are in line with protocol. They can actually get into trouble for talking to the opposite sex for no reason.

Kandovan
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Kandovan Detour

Kandovan is a town backed by and comprised of unusual rock formations, spikes coming vertically from the ground, that they use as their homes. They actually live in these rocks and have sheds for their animals with proper doors, window, the lot. It's a tourist town, but in this neck of the woods, that means Iranian tourists. Refreshing that the kids don't just see $$ when they see a white face. The place is a joy to stroll about, climbing the hill further into the lair of the people, but the weather turned to the bad. A torrential shower of hail and thunder covered the area. That ruled out climbing the mountain on the other side!

Kandovan
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While relaxing for tea, they decided to paint the tea shop (see photo). The guy was standing on the 'counter' with the spray gun aiming at the scaffold bars holding the place up. Everyone was getting covered with the mist of paint. In our taxi on the return from Kandovan, we came on a broken down heap of scrap. The taxi driver stops to tow it, but then the fan belt started slipping off on his car. We limped back to Osku. The odds were high at one stage on two cars in tow being shamefully led into town.

Kandovan
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Back in Tabriz there is little more to do. Under darkness we visit Elgoli Park. Before the Islamic the building in the middle of the lake was a bar and club. It was destroyed and now operates as a restaurant.

Reza is a local freelance guide. He has just purchased a new computer and was anxious to set up a website, but was worried about how he would edit the entries. He was delighted to have the home page and introduction text written for him. My good deed for the day!