We drive further down south, towards the warmth of the Persian gulf.

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For the third time we pass Kerman, this time on our way to mister Akhbar in Bam. But after only ten minutes on the road we are stopped by the police. The officer didn’t speak English and our Farsi isn’t so good either. We’re guessing we were speeding and hand over Robin’s drivers licence. After some gesturing and writing out a fine for us, the police men lets us continue our journey. Later we find out is is indeed a speeding ticket, and we should’ve gone to the bank to pay the 600.000 Rials. Sounds like a lot of money, but isn’t more than €10. We keep it as a souvenir and hope they won’t give us any problems at the border for not paying a speeding ticket.

 

Mahan and Rayen

The Lonely Planet is our tour guide today and we have three stops planned. The mausoleum and the beautiful garden in Mahan and the ancient citadel in Rayen. The citadel is ike a huge sand castle, you can climb on and wander. Outside the citadel we spot a shepherd with his flock. Bam wasn’t on our itinerary, but the drive from Kerman to Bandar Abbas is way too long for just one day. And now we get some sightseeing on our way too!

 

Pulled over again

The second time we are being pulled over today, we found a better tactic. As other drivers simply accelerate and madly wave their arms at the officers, we decide to have a friendly chat instead. The chat isn’t more than saying Holland, Holland and naming Dutch football players, but hey, it works. No ticket this time, just a great portrait instead.

 

Mister Akhbar’s guesthouse

When we finally reach mister Akhbar’s guesthouse we are welcomed with a pot of hot tea, and no one else to find. After knocking on a lot of doors and ringing door bells, Robin has the fantastic idea to ask the neighbours. It’s mister Akhbar’s son, and he runs a small travel agency with great enthusiasm. Almost such great enthusiasm that we nearly end up changing all of our plans and head to Chabahar instead of Qeshm directly. Chabahar is towards the Pakistani border and it means a lot of extra driving. It’s also deep in the red zone, of the Dutch governments travel advice.

Mister Akhbar convinces us during dinner in his living room that we take it easy and head to Qeshm for a couple days of relaxing. Rushing through cities doesn’t give you time to truly appreciate them. We follow his advice, he has seen them coming and going since 1973, when he first opened his guesthouse. We watch the news about the yellow vests together and we share how we celebrate Christmas where we’re from. He is delighted with our gift, a small snow globe with a christmas three. It get’s a prominent place on a shelve above the television. 

 

Early morning

The next morning we finally succeed in leaving at the planned time, for the first time this trip. We have one more try at fixing the SIM card, but the shop is closed. We’re still offline, and we’re fine with it too be fair.

Today we drive trough the mountains, and even spot a stream with water! The government gets a lot of criticism for poor water management with the dams that are built. This leaves a big part of the country without water in the already dry environment. Ever since our cappuccinos on the way back from the Kaluts, we have tried to find them again. We search the shops in the small trucker towns we pass, but without success. We do find people with faces that tell stories on their own. Poor goats in trucks on their way to the slaughter house, and sunflower seeds that the shop owner weighs with an old fashioned scale with weights.

We drive deeper into Iran and cross more deserts and Martian like landscapes.

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A typical travelers breakfast in hostels and guesthouses in Iran consist of flat white bread (in many different forms!), cucmber and tomatoe, white cheese and some carrot jam. When you’re lucky, sometimes a boiled egg. Not quite a solid base for a +7 hour drive, but we have some snacks (biscuits, salt & vinegar chips and fruit) for on the way.

 

Driving on Friday

Traffic is less hectic today since it’s Friday, which can be compared to our Sunday. We drive through the desert, and despite what you might expect, the scenery never gets boring. We drive through hills, see grand mountains and wide plains. At gas stations we see families and pick ups with goat and sheep in the back. The rising full moon and the reflection of the last sunbeams on the mountains is a beautiful sight. Iranian sunsets never dissapoint.

Sunset also means car lighting. But not before it’s really dark. Otherways other drivers will kindly warn you, your lighting is on with blinding driving beams. Plus points if your car has crazy blue and red LED lights.

Yalda night in Dasht-e Khak

Arriving late in the small town Dasht-e Khak we still need to find Hamid’s homestay. Not having a phone we ask for help at a small store. A shopper knows Hamid, but I guess everyone knows each other here, and he leads us the way on his motor cycle with a plastic bag with mushrooms in his hand.

Hamid and his family warmly welcome us in their home. It’s Yalda night, a winter solstice celebration. Hamid cranks up the fireplace, where later the kebabs will be grilled on. First we enjoy sunflower seeds, pomegranate, sweet lemons and Havez poems. An uncle has a special little barbecue where he keeps glowing coals on for his opium pipe. No pictures please.

 

Finally, the kaluts

Nights are very cold in the Kerman region, so cold they have Robin wrapping himself up like an Eskimo. Crazy to think we are driving to the place we’re the hottest temperature ever was registered by NASA. 71 degrees Celsius to be exact. We are going to see the Kaluts in the Dasht-e-Lut desert. Thankfully it isn’t that hot this time of year. It’s even snowing in the mountains we drive through to get to the desert!

The drive is long (180 km) and we only stop for a short lunch break with some Gorme sahbzi in the city Kerman. The scenery is spectacular as always. When we get closer to the Kaluts the landscape suddenly changes. The sand in the desert isn’t like the fine sand we expect. It’s rock solid. We also don’t really know what to expect from the Kaluts, but when the appear in the distance we are blown away with the grandiosity.

Not only in the figurative speech actually. The wind is fierce, but that creates a mystic view of dancing sand storms between gigantic rock formations.

 

Christmas at the Caravanserai

Hamid calls us to warn us, that we can’t stay too long. We have a long drive back waiting for us and Hamid is worried about the snow in the mountains. We do have time for one more stop. An ancient abandoned caravanserai. A caravanserai was a roadside inn where travelers could rest and recover from the day’s journey. A perfect location to snap our Christmas card.

 

Missing coffee

On the way back, we stop once for some sweets and prefab iced cappuccino’s. Which to our surprise aren’t half bad (might be caused by the lack of coffee you get in Iran). The red rising full moon awes us once more. We thank our driver, and shake his hand.. at least Robin does. Sabina forgot the local customs and he refuses, whoops, how embarrassing.

After sightseeing in Tehran we hit the road. First on our route is Esfahan.

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We decided to rent our own car, to drive all the way to the South of Iran. We’ve read that the roads are fine, plus it spares us a lot of time in the short two weeks that we have. No waiting for busses, figuring out how to get to the busstop, buying tickets and we can drive and stop for pictures whenever we want. 

We pay about 19 euro’s per day, and 110 euro’s extra, for returning the car in Bandar Abbas. Our badass Peugeot Pars, maybe isn’t the Paykan Robin dreamed of, but it sure is an authentic Iranian (brand new) car.

 

Driving in Tehran

Traffic in Tehran is pretty hectic, and the roundabouts require utmost concentration. Motors and other cars pop up out of nowhere, and lanes don’t exist. You don’t get the right of way, you simply demand it. It’s almost as a miracle how this functions without people crashing into each other every other second.

On our first stop, one and a half our in, Sabina suddenly realises she left her coat in the hostel in Tehran. Inside the jacket? Wallet, including debet and creditcard. We still have three more hours of driving to do, so returning is no option. With no working sim card, we can’t reach the hostel. We find wifi and send them a message on Instagram and Facebook if they can keep it safe for us. Thankfully, the cards are useless in Iran. 

 

No money!

In the North of Iran we come across some toll roads. The operator doesn’t realise we are tourists at first, but when he looks down at us a big smile appears on his face. Mister, where are you from. No money! Sabina however doesn’t always get the same VIP treatment with her darker appearance. So yes, it’s true, especially in Iran. Blondes do have more fun. 

Visiting Iran in December means short days. Sunset is around five, and it gets dark really fast after that. This however treats us at the most wonderful views of the cascading sun and the beautiful colours it casts on the mountains. It also means driving in the dark a lot. We were hoping for star filled skies, but the nearly full moon is too bright. The moon does make it easier to drive in the dark, which we end up doing multiple times on behalf of late departure.

 

Near-death sanitary stop

On our last sanitary stop, just before we drive into the city Isfahan, the one thing we were needing most (a lovely and always so clean squat toilet) is nowhere to be found. Behind an old building it is then. Sabina walks a bit further, so she doesn’t scare of the local truck drivers with her own private full moon.

Pants on her knees, she hears dogs barking. And it’s coming closer. It’s coming closer fast. She sprints, heart is racing, and she barely makes it to the car before the huge pack of wild dogs devour her. Only to see, whilst safe and well in the car, that the two dogs are actually still about 5 meters away. Still counts as a near death experience in Sabina’s opinion.

 

Early morning

Construction starts early in Isfahan. We are woken up by the sound of a grinding machine. The brand new Mahbibi hostel we are staying is good, but not very pecial. However, their tour guide Armin definitely makes up for our rough awakening.

Today we tag along with Armin and his intern (a.k.a. his daughter). He shows us the shops, where the souvenirs still are handmade. Copper vasues with handglued rocks, tiles with the typical blue color (we even have a go at it ourselves!) and copper and brass plates with beautiful patterns precisely hammered into them. Imagine hammering away for over 45 years, the ticking sound all day. We would go mad within a week.

 

Naqsh-e Jahan Square

The highlight of the day is a visit to the big mosque of the shah at Naqsh-e Jahan Square. We bribe the securityguard and he secretly hands us the key to one of the minarets. We don’t want to get caught so we sneak up and we crawl over the ground, where we can be seen from outside of the mosque. The narrow spiral staircase of the 48 meter high minaret is pitchblack, but small air windows give us a sneak peak on the extraordinary view we are about to get.

 

Saffron icecream

After such adventure we cool down with traditional saffron icecream on the square.  Our guide’s favourite, the vendor has even memorised his security code for his debetcard. You know how they tell you to never share your code with anyone and keep it secret at all times? Not in Iran!

We had already been surprised with the question what our code was, but apparently this is completely normal. Why even bother having a code? No idea, Iran is weird sometimes.

Later we enjoy more Persian cuisine. Well, Robin does. As a vegetarian healthfreak, life in Iran isn’t always easy. Meals are mainly about lamb or a different form of meat and white rice. Today we get Beryani, a traditional food in Isfahan and Dizi, Iran’s national dish.

After we stack up on some saffron (2 grams for €10, a bargain for us!), we head to the Armenian quarter to visit the Cathedral and take a selfie with Santa. 

 

Private mini-concert

When evening falls in Isfahan, we strongly reccomend you find one of the historical bridges, crossing the now dry Zayanderud (life giver) river. The bridges serve as a place for public gatherings, where men and boys sing together. Here we also spot our very first Western tourist!