Hello Mister, Iran good?

This was the first question what the locals, later everyone who saw me, asked me when they stopped me in Iran. What can you answer of such a question when you just stepped into the country five minutes ago? Of course what they want to hear. “Good!” How “good” it is we will turn out after my (more than a month long) stay.

I got my passport stamped with the date 1392.03.09. I was asked questions about my family and about my journey. After my entry was approved the gates to Iran opened before me. My first and most important task was to change currency. For 1 USB I have got 36 thousand Iranian Rial, but probably at the time when I will leave the country I will have to give 40 thousand for a dollar. I still remember that back in 2005 the rate was 9000 for a dollar. I spent the night on the very modern customs waiting room.

It was early in the morning when I rolled out from Customs, and I noticed that the surroundings changed drastically. All the trees and everything green were missing from the mountains. The only place where gardens or anything green was growing was next to the river. The bare brown mountains are typical for Iran; I did not saw something like it anywhere else along my travels. On the other side of the river I saw the road I was cycling on yesterday night in Armenia. The first village I saw in Iran had a sandstone wall running up the hill. The village seemed pretty poor. On flat roofed ground floor houses hay and cow excrement was dried. Women in chador have shepherded cows and goats along narrow alleys. There was a small signs pointing towards a bathhouse named Kordasht. The bath was currently under repairs and, as it was early in the morning, no one was anywhere near to it. So I took the courage to step inside the open gates. It was unbelievable how detailed the inside of the bath was. I found it strange how something so remarkable was left unprotected. I found my way down to the basement, below the hamam (Hamam = Turkish bath in Turkish). It was amazing to see how complex systems the architects were able to create so long ago.

I continued my journey along the river, which is also the borderline. But on the other side of the river it was no longer Armenia, but by the Armenian populated Nagorno-Karabakh, which according my map, belongs to Azerbaijan. Along riverbank barbed wire fence was running, and only seldomly did I saw small villages, which seemed to be abandoned.

The military presence and police checks are in this “free-fire zone” more often and due to the nearing presidential elections they keep an eye on foreign visitors. As I was the only visitor there I was checked regularly at every check point. This slowly started to get to me. My first day on Iranian soil did not go as I imagined, but I will not tell you yet what I was forced to go through. At the end of the day it was Mehdi who came to my rescue in Aslan Duz. At that time I didn’t even imagined how much will Mehdi, who I am proud to call my friend, will help me.

I was moved by his unconditional willingness to help, so I stayed there for a day. It was an unplanned stop, but this does not matter. As it was especially for this reason, that I planned my stay in Iran for a period longer than a month, so that I will have time for making friends.
We went to an Internet cafe, where I uploaded some pictures. But I was confronted by the fact, that either Yahoo, Facebook and Gmail wasn’t working there, and the speed of the net was really sluggish. I was told that it is assumed, to be due to the nearing presidential election that the state deliberately slowed down the net connection. In the afternoon, together with some of Mehdi’s friends, we went to a park to eat watermelons. Mehdi presented me with a pre-paid SIM card, so my mobile phone became usable again. In Iran none of the Slovak mobile operators provide roaming service.
An idea popped to my mind. Before I leave the town, as a respect for the hospitality of the Iranian people I want to place the Iranian flag next to the one of Komárno. Needles to say, soon after I formed the request I had a flag in my hands. I fixed the flag to my bike, and was immediately surrounded by locals celebrating my act. They almost went crazy in enjoyment and someone even called for the TV. After a TV crew showed up I had to ride around in a roundabout and gave an interview. Mehdi was translating the questions they had for me. The interview was aired that night on ARDABIL CHANEL 1, which was seen by millions in that region. At the time of my arrival to my next accommodation I was a local celebrity.