Teheran

From the Caspian see at -20 meters under the ocean’s level, we started crossing the Alborz range to get to Teheran on a superb but very crowded road. As it was already too late to cycle to the second village (Valli Abad), where we needed to buy some food, we started hitchhiking. We didn’t have to wait long and a very nice man took us with our bikes in the back of its pick up -as in the front seat he was carrying a little dog in a box-. It was so pleasant to travel in fresh air, admiring the multicolor mountains distorted by erosion. But he forgot to stop in the village, -or he hadn’t understood that he had to…-. We told ourselves “Why not going to the next village…”. At the petrol station, where he offered us pizza, biers (alcohol-free of course), ice-creams, he told us he was going to Teheran…As we were already late in our plan and were not sure to get an extension for our Iranian visa (Iran is very big and with one month visa, it’s a bit difficult to visit the whole country only with bicycles), we decided to keep going with him. He gave us blankets and we spent three hours in the back of its car. We were very lucky because he took us just 10 km from the house where the mother of a friend, Malihe, was living and waiting for us. We arrived in her huge and peaceful house and she took care of us as we were part of family. She was so hospitable with us and it was very pleasant to be hosted at her place, far from the noise, pollution, and traffic of the town center.

Teheran is an insane town, streets are constantly obstructed by motorcyclists and automobilists who never respect the high way code and never use the rear-view mirror. You always have to be very careful, even on pavements sometimes took by bikers. Apart a few parks, where you can find some quietness, Teheran seems to be only traffic, buildings and permanent stress. There are not many places where you can have a rest: no café or tearoom (well, we could find some but it’s not usual) and oddly only a few restaurants. On the other hand you can find a lot of fast-food, no "Mac Donald’s"(those who tried to open one had to close very quickly), no "Pizza Hut" or "KFC"  but "Mast Burger", "Pizza Hot" and "NFC", in short the same junk than we have, at the same price... Hopefully Malihe cooked us delicious courses: different kind of Persian and Kurdish soup, grape leafs, plain round flat cake of spinach, saffron and grapes chicken, many sorts of vegetables and meats deliciously cooked, and lots of different cheese, yogurts, jams, honey, halva and fruits (Iranian are very fond of fruits and it’s good to bring some when you are invited). Malihe made us discover all the Kurdish and Persian cooking, much better than if we had done every restaurants all over Iran. Iranian hospitality has almost no limits.

When we arrived in Teheran, we thought that we can get our Pakistan visas in two days but it seemed too easy and in fact we stayed two weeks.

Indeed, two weeks ago we called the Pakistan embassy which asked a recommendation letter (for every visa -tourist or transit one-) that the French embassy refuses to issue. We still insisted by sending a message to the French Consul, who were already aware of our journey by two letters that Madam the Mayor of Strasbourg and we had sent to him. The Consul had to ask for the agreement of the French embassy in Islamabad but suffered a “no with no possible appeal”.

We spent the following two weeks in the capital trying to find another solution, becoming crazy with the various timetables of the different embassies and public and private services which made us spend hours and hours in the traffic.

We read on Internet that it might be possible to take a boat from Bandar-e-Abbas to Bombay, but afterwards the companies told us that cargo ships could transport our bikes but don’t take passengers and that we had to go by plane. Then we found a travel agency which provides boat journeys from Iran to Dubai, but prices were exorbitant and then we still need to find another ferry to India, which was still uncertain. Another solution was to send back our passports to some French agencies which take care of formalities for obtaining visas but those ones refused to supply this service owing to the risk of documents’ loss. Lastly, some travelers advised us to apply for visa in Zahedan, a border-town with the Pakistan, but according to some others, it’s not possible anymore (for about one year) and we should take a plane.

All seems constantly arbitrary with all those administrative formalities. The French embassy told us that we could have got our visas without any problem if we had applied before we left, because the Pakistan embassy in France don’t ask for any recommendation letter. But the Ministry of Foreign Affairs doesn’t allow French embassies to issue any letter to their nationals; it forbids them to make the formalities to get in Pakistan easier.  But if we went to the Pakistan capital by plane, they would have given us the letter !!! Though, most of bomb attacks take place in big cities as Islamabad, Karachi, Peshawar, and so on. Furthermore, if we go by plane, nothing can prevent us to go up and down later in the country. I have trouble understanding the logic. We proposed them to write a letter that assures that we are aware of possible risks and that we enter Pakistan under our own and full responsibility. In my opinion, there is much more chances to die in a car accident – anywhere in our countries and especially in Iran where 26000 dead persons on roads are listed every year- than to have any problem in Pakistan; Moreover we have resigned ourselves not cycling in Pakistan because of the little risk of kidnapping (those which happened took part in the east part of Balouchistan, on the Iranian side, in response of a police drug’s catch. The abductors asked for the confiscated amount to release the tourists, which were, this must be noted, very well treated...but anyway we don’t really want to try this experience, so we’ve chosen carefulness, we will cross the tribal zones by bus…) and we don’t plan to remain in big towns. Therefore, the risk is very low. Besides French and Belgium embassy are the only ones to refuse to issue this recommendation letter!

Finally, five days ago, while we were just about to leave Teheran, we tried our last luck. We went in person to the Pakistan embassy, thinking that maybe on the scene formalities would be easier (one’s never knows...). It was unexpected: unlike what they said on the phone, the agent, moreover much more likeable, told us that for a transit visa we don’t need a recommendation letter but just a standard attestation letter that assures that we hold our passports and that we have French nationalities (why passports are not enough? I don’t know... maybe one day we will have to get a letter that certifies the authenticity of that attestation letter and it will never end…why not…). Anyway, and I will spare you the details, we succeed to get this letter (it took us 48 hours more…the French embassy telling us that this letter was useless and that we will never get the visa…) and after filling the application form and taking a very short interview with “the boss” (“Are you married? Are you tourists? Ok no problem…”, not much…), the Pakistan consul gave us our 14 days transit visa, while saying at the same time that they never issue visas for non-Iranian people…We don’t understand anything, but anyway we get it, that’s the most important!!!!

And we are now ready to get back on the road, moreover with one-month extension of our Iranian visa (hopefully, otherwise we should have already left the country…).

I forgot to tell you about our trek on Damavand Mountain.

We wanted to hike on the highest summit of Iran. However some people had warned us that a trek was not possible at this season, that it was already -20 degrees at the top and that the temperatures will go on coming down. As locals always worry too much about us, we decide with Stephan (that we’ve met again in Teheran) to go to the village where treks start and to see how is the weather.  

In Reyneh, we start to climb with for only aim to see how high we can go. The first day is very pleasant, a beautiful sun lights up the Alborz mountains range and the Mount Damavand. We reach the base camp at 2950 m high and collect some wood in anticipation of a cold night. The shelter is open, maybe too much as many windowpanes are missing. We fill them with cardboard to protect us from the coldness. The camp is deserted but the summer-ramblers and their guides have left a huge field of waste, leave out to use the dustbins.

We make a big fire which keep us awake until ten and then go to sleep. The night is rough and restless. Christophe is the only one not to be cold. The following day, we wake up late but still tired. After a good meal of pastas we make for the camp 2 at 4200 m high. We already feel hardly the altitude, we go on softly and clouds start to catch us. We are soon enveloped by a huge frozen fog. 3300 m high: now we wear all the clothes we have: warm trousers, thick socks, long-sleeved T-shirt, sweater, Gore-Tex jacket, and gloves (Christophe still wear its Birkenstock sandals but good socks…) but it’s not enough, we put an end to the break because it’s too cold. We go on climbing but now even while walking we are still very cold and our fingers are frozen. 3700 m high: it’s snowing and I no longer feel anything. The camp where we are supposed to sleep is at another 500 m high. It’s 0 degree while it’s only 2 o‘clock and we don’t know whether the shelter is open, but what is certain is that it’s empty without any heating and certainly no water. Well, it’s the end of October ad we are far from being mountain ascent’s professionals.

We talk together to know whether we should go on or not. Sleeping up there is impossible -the previous night we were already very cold at 2950 m high, after a sunny day and sheltered from the wind-. It’s too late either to reach the camp and then come down to sleep at the base camp, the night falls over at 5. We conclude that we have to walk down. Christophe is very disappointed, I’m very relieved of and Stephan tells what is needed: “Better safe than sorry”. We take the way back without any regret all the more so in that we met a young Iranian who speaks very good English (so much better than me) and invites us to a family meal. We talk round a tablecloth (tablecloth without table because in Iran we traditionally take meal on the floor, which is good to make our stiff knees more supple) magnificently filled with delicious soup, saffron-rice, salad, chicken, maize, nan (bread) and then tea, fruits and home-made biscuits. The breakfast will be delicious as well with different kind of cheese, omelets, home-made cherries, mirabelles and carrots jams, biscuits, nan, tea and coffee. We spend a very nice time with Ahmed who makes us visit its town and tells us a little bit more about young Iranian life, but  will tell you next time…


Estelle 30th october 2007