To get out of Tehran, I had to cross through the south of the city completely from the north. The motorists proved to me that easily integrates four cars side by side on two-lane roads are also attached, so that even I, the one who can always jump the queue, was stuck in traffic. A mixture of audacity and skill brought me safely out, but also outside, there were initially only diesel instead of natural clouds. Fed up I had not for a long time, but of an increased fun factor could be no question. When stopping at a kiosk I waited 2 minutes and already the next invitation fluttered into the house. Truck Express to Isfahan. To treat myself, I had to put my fears, so I accepted the offer. When he, Mohamad, briefly telephoned his wife, I knew that there would be no repeat of the warm Truck Express. Late at night in Isfahan, I went looking for wifi in a hookah bar. Directly I was invited by Benyamin home and was able to stay three nights. It happened that a shisha (water pipe, here "Ghelyun") smoked, the first since about 8 years, but I had not forgotten anything. When they parted, his grandmother was so sad that she had to even cry. After I was escorted with hazard lights out of town, I did actually: Biking! There were again invitations for the Truck Express, but I just wanted to know how it feels. Streets were top, Equipped verges, not too much traffic, weather 1A, landscape incredibly far. One evening, I ended up in the massage chairs in the VIP lounge of a car wash, once I stayed at the Red Crescent, so to speak, the Red Cross in Iran, one night in the mosque and spontaneously with a family. The people are incredibly helpful, love to accommodate guests and even if they do not want it, they can still offer it to you to stay with them, because they want to show that they are good people -> "Torof". Overall, I had accommodation expenses of 0.0 riyals in Iran.
With pure Legpower I made it from Isfahan to Shiraz, where she learned super many people know, visited Persepolis, eating sheep's head, visited the Shah Cheragh, went through the Ghahro Ashti Alley, fell in love with Ice Pack and got information about the rap scene in Iran. When I was bombing all friends of my host and now good friend Reza with Iranian swearwords, which enjoyed huge and he got several flashes of laughter. What does not do anything to make people happy.
Was planned, the last part to Bandar Abbas (Persian Gulf) to cycle, but my dortiger host that I had made it clear on Warmshowers had (no, that he knew me) for a two-day trip to the desert invited me to I wanted to pass it up under any circumstances. 600km in two days were impossible trucks that drove from Shiraz to "Bandar", however, were not really look for, so I had to be divided into stages the Truck Express. On the first night I ended up in my Eggplant vices in the last village at three heroin and opium-smoking brothers early to mid-40th After a high and had told me was that he was 5 years in jail, he showed me then the shower and said: "After you take a shower, I will kill you," and laughed dirty. I remembered unceremoniously at The Fire Raisers, one of the few books that I had ever read in school and then thought to myself: "After you kill me, I will kill you back" Later, when he asked me if I did not was intimidated and I laughed and said no, he rejoiced and checked off (= gave me his hand). An interesting kind of humor. The next day I was taken back to the main road, pedaled somewhat, then met the mayor of a village who invited me to lunch, I then brought to the police base and the local police and soldiers urged to stop trucks or pickups for me. Ultimately, however, it was a converted € 2.5 more expensive remote bus that brought me the last 290km to the destination.
Packed to the rafters made Ahmad, his friends and I are from Bandar Abbas on the way to the desert. That was surprisingly relatively sandy, windy and dry. Crazy! The next day we were still running through a gorge that just wanted to clarify briefly that the landscape in Iran can be very different. It was worth it! Back in Bandar Abbas I had a free day because the ferry to Dubai is not running every day. The remarkable thing was that I did not put in daily conflict between "I'll stay a little and come thereby in my tour not" or "I continue and thereby miss something at this location". Completely relaxed and unloaded so I grabbed my bike, took a ferry and turned a lap of Hormuz Iceland and thereby dyed my tires red. Fresh, dope and too damn swaggy!
Just as with the entry, nobody wanted even when leaving the country something check from me that other travelers seem to do anything wrong. In the border control I learned two other cyclists from Belgium and Frankfurt know. One had a guitar case, so we set up without further ado a boyband and called ourselves the "No Naked Lights". Unfortunately, Jacob was smoking and we parted again just before our first single. That's why I had time yet to create a few extra rows and Background Information before it went to the United Arab Emirates -> Blog # 14