15 days, 1920 km: Turkey (18 July - 2 August1999)
15 days, 1843 km: Iran (2 -17 August 1999)
Now we are in Turkey. Cool, that’s even a bit better; we’ve just entered the first Muslim country to travel on our way. Turkey. I have to admit that communication almost was hold in German because so many Turks are or have been in Germany working...
Here you see a bazaar. At a bazaar you get everything - that makes a bazaar beeing a bazaar - in the whole Orient! Fruits, ropes, tools and other gear...
After a little discussion about whether or not we were allowed to pass the notorious Bosporus-Highway-Bridge, we won. Luckily! Because it was our idea to make every meter on our own.
Having left Istanbul behind us, Anatolia opens its ports. The main road heading Turkmenistan isn’t overfilled luckily.
Here in a country where Muslim people live we adapt of course to the necessary rules such as not to show naked parts of body except for arms, legs and face...
After two weeks of ever and anon being invited to Çay leave Turkey passing by Mount Ararat. With its 5137 m of heights enormously exalted.
First picture from Iran; Farsi, Iran’s official language. Latin letters were introduced by 1986. The border had been easy: 'Do you have sex magazines?' - 'ah...NO!' - 'Ok, so welcome to Iran!'
You see one time more, that things are always different from what you think they are…
Behind the border we just made it to leave Maku and then tried to sleep, right next to the street. But as we spend the whole night at 31° C there wasn’t a lot of sleep for us. The next morning we were invited into this little village to breakfast with them. You sit on the ground drinking Cay, eating flatbread with sheep’s cheese and honey.
Iran is a big dessert. Except for the region around the coast of Caspian Sea you rather see sceneries as such: Dryness, Water systems at one end of a village to grow food.
You have to face that Iran IS a man’s world - BUT the normal people we meet such as farmers, truckers, sellers and so on are definitely the most hospital people I ever met! Every noon, every night we could have spend in a different household. Often we denied because we had to go on cycling. But what I want to tell you is: call the politicians, the Mullahs what you want - the basic people, those you meet as cyclist are very interested and polite people!
One of our many invitations into a private household. Except for a TV Set they din´t own much. But they loved sharing it with us. People are pulling us quasi from the street into their homes. Hard to understand for somebody that hasn´t experienced Iran.