9 am this morning I arrived back in Mersin. The 400 km journey from Aleppo took 18 hours instead of the expected 8. The journey to Aleppo’s duration was 16 hours and involved a hike. In between the adventures were 3 fantastic days. I am damn tired now so I will write my in-depth Syria report later this week.
Following on from Hi From Aleppo.
Besides Alicia , I met many other interesting people in Syria:
Sasha, the middle-aged Russian journalist who added a shot of gin to her morning Syrian coffee at Saint Simeon’s. On the tour we also visited Krake Shamass, the Valley of Death at Qatura, the Basilica of Muchabk (next to a military area) and a hilltop temple with statues that bore a passing resemblance to Mount Nemrut in Adiyamon Province, Turkey. The area we visited was full of rocks, similar to Ireland’s Aran Islands. At one place I fell and I was very lucky my hands hit the rocks the same time as my nose, causing grazes but nothing more. The day after the tour Sasha was hand in hand with a local ‘tourist-hunter’ at a cafe near the citadel.
Dominic, the recent Arts/Law graduate and Bombers supporter from Melbourne who had previously helped Texas death row inmates. He came to Aleppo from Beirut where, the previous night, he had visited an over the top, outrageously expensive and hip nightclub. The 10% alcohol beer imported from Denmark did not tempt Dominic on this occasion.
Rick, the Vancouverite travelling with his wife. They are graphic designers visiting the Middle East after studying arts courses in Italy and Greece. Rick told a great story about meeting a CIA agent on a Greek ferry. The agent didn’t tell Rick that he was an agent, just all his movements, speech patterns, looks and circumstances lead Rick to this conclusion. After this story I guessed that Rick was from Vancouver. He asked me, “How did you know?” I started telling him “Because of your speech, the way you walked, etcetera.” And then I told him he had previously stated he was from Vancouver!
Sameer, the tour driver and brother of the hostel owner, Ussama. In the hostel and on the tour to settlements north of Aleppo we chatted about almost everything including the pressure to get married in Syria, the potential for illness from the stone quarry dust and the border dispute between Turkey and Syria. The Syrian government still officially recognises Antakya (Antakia) and Iskenderun (Iskandaroun) as part of Syria.
Click on the map to see a larger version.
Selam and the other hostel workers.
The Italian couple, the female of whom illustrated children’s books. With them I chatted about the political and media situations in Italy.
Antje, the German lady who Alicia had met in Lebanon. Antje was fresh from being entertained in the Lebanese mountains by a Maronite (?) priest and his family. One evening the three of us ate dinner at an Aleppian restaurant. The local red wine tasted like dessert wine and the bottle was placed in an ice bucket but the kebabs were good!
The next morning we eventually made it to Aleppo’s Christian Quarter where an old truck with angels on the back grabbed our attention. The truck looked as though it was a hearse. At one stage church bells intermingled with a neighbouring mosque’s call to prayer.
The Japanese couple I shared the taxi ride from Aleppo to Antakya with. The man was in the middle of a two year Arabic language learning stint in Damascus and the woman had previously visited Egypt 6 or 7 times but never Turkey or Syria. At the border, dozens and dozens of passengerless Turkish buses were waiting to cross into Syria. I guess they were going to Mecca, Saudi Arabia, to help with Hajj pilgrimage logistics. Antakya bus station (otogar) seemed very quiet. I guess cars weren’t constantly tooting their horns like they were in Aleppo.
Other random points:
* The streets of Aleppo teemed with soldiers in uniform, particularly on the holiday Friday
* I found a fresh sugarcane juice shop near the Christian Quarter
* One shop in the souq (bazaar, pazar) sold fresh ginger
* The weather for the whole trip was sunny but cool
* With the clear weather, the views from the citadel were much nicer than on my visit two years previous
* For myself or other people I brought back from Syria sweets, biscuits, Saudi dates, flat bread, two spice mixes, pita bread, Arabic coffee, cashews, almonds, shell-less pumpkin seeds, a small can of pineapple and duty-free bottles of tequila and vodka. Most of these items were either unavailable or more expensive in Mersin.
I’m back in Syria again. I write ‘again’ because this is my 4th visit. I’ve now visited Syria as many times as I’ve visited Australia, believe it or not!
Ah, Syria, the country still obsessed with the Lambada tune. When cars reverse and mobile phones ring, out comes Lambada – I like it.
East of Adana on the bus from Mersin to Antakya I saw two interesting things:
1) At a roadside stop and on two different bridges there were soldiers observing the traffic. This military presence is unusual for around Adana. I don’t recall seeing it before. I wonder if the military received a tip-off for something.
2) Six or seven Turkish Red Crescent (Kizilay) trucks in random intervals passed us travelling west in the opposite lane. I (again) wonder if the trucks were coming from delivering aid to Iraq. I’ve never seen Red Cross trucks before.
In Antakya, on a previously vacant plot of land, what seemed like hundreds of utes and small trucks were parked. In between the trucks were hundreds of men and hundreds of calves (young cattle). My guess is the cattle were being bought and sold to be killed for the Sacrifice Holiday which will begin on the 20th. Funnily, I again hope to be in Syria then.
The taxi across from Antakya to Aleppo was only USD $10. This time I came with Zead. Unfortunately we could not complete the Turkish border procedures before the officials went on their 12 pm lunch break. Also at the border were several busloads of Macedonian Muslims heading to Mecca for the Hadj religious pilgrimage. The men and women looked very pale compared to the Turkish and Syrians.
Finally we exited the Turkish border. At the Syrian border, some bureaucracy and USD $30 later I recieved my Syrian visa. To obtain a Syrian visa one must change the USD into Syrian pounds. You can’t just pay with pounds, even if you already have them!
So far in Aleppo I’ve checked into the Spring Flower Hostel (where I stayed two years ago), walked right around the fort and drunk a fresh fruit juice cocktail at the juice shop where I first met Bangali and Celine more than 1 year ago. Unfortunately, Bangali, Celine and Yuko are not in Aleppo but I hope to see them in a few weeks. I will, however, see Alicia, who should be arriving from Tartus later tonight.
I’ve had enough pan pipe music in the Internet cafe, so I’m leaving…
Besides the wedding, other notable points from my trip to Syria were:
– Celine and Bangali’s wonderful cooking. The tomato soup and African peanut chicken dish were exquisite!
– On Saturday we visited the sight of Saint Simeon just out of Aleppo where the ruined cathedral, including St. Simeon’s pillar are located.
– Shopping! After visiting Saint Simeon, we went shopping in the centre of Aleppo for goodies to bring back to Turkey. I bought Cashew nuts (not found in Mersin), Arabic coffee, Syrian flat bread, Saudi dates and 6 kilos of gourmet Aleppian sweets.
– Rain poured all day Sunday. The taxi back to Antakya attempted to surf the puddles on the road several times.
– At the border I purchased 1-litre bottles of Kahlua and Tia Maria for the bargain price of 13 Euros each. I don’t know why I chose 2 coffee liqueurs when I already have homemade Kahlua maturing at home. I guess I had coffee on the brain. My receipt given to me by the very friendly shop worker not only included the 2 bottles but also 3 cartons of Marlboro cigarettes. Hmmm… I wonder if tax-free cigarettes are smuggled into Turkey. Of course not…
On the weekend I travelled to Aleppo to see friends Bangali and Celine again. The journey there on Friday consisted of a bus to Antakya (10,000,000 TRL) followed by a taxi to Aleppo (USD $15 or 750 Syrian pounds or 22,500,000 TRL or 22.50 YTL). The visa at the border now costs the equivalent of USD $32 versus the $30 from last year.
That night we, along with Yuko, Bangali and Celine’s Japanese neighbour, were to attend the wedding reception of their landlord’s son. He was marrying the daughter of the owner of Aleppo’s 2nd largest hotel, the Pullman Al Shahba. The reception was to begin at 10, yes, 10 pm!
After some difficulty finding the Aleppo Club, we eventually arrived at the venue. Through the door, past the jacket counter and up the dual twirling staircases the bride and groom’s families greeted us at the half tacky, half sophisticated function room entrance. The ‘handshakes’ by a few of the women were the limpest I have ever felt. Culture, I guess. I did not felt ultra comfortable, not knowing anybody whose hard earned $$$ were paying for my entertainment tonight. Still, I was very much looking forward to the experience.
The four of us were placed at a table with 3 middle-aged German couples (the landlord was first married to a now deceased German lady, so the children are half-German). This was the foreigner table, located in the corner close to the drink stand from where the waiters obtained the alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. Out of respect, I remained completely sober.
Approximately 150-200 formally dressed guests were seated. Most of the women did not wear headscarves and I believe it was a mixed Muslim and Christian audience. As Celine stated, the “creme de la creme” of Aleppian society were in attendance. Trade wise, I would love to be on a friendly basis with all the business people in the room.
Food
Salads, cheese and cold meat platters covered the tablecloths. For an event beginning at 10 pm, the 5 courses lasted well into the night. A copy of the menu is below. Even though the international audience of the reception was just one table with only one native English speaker, the menu is in both Arabic and English.
Fresh dill and rind less lemon slices complemented the fish well. The lemon sorbet, I was told, pushed the previously eaten food down, creating an appetite for the following courses. I don’t recall eating truffles before, not in Syria, anyway!
The dessert consisted of a flat apple pie with ice cream along, a piece of wedding cake and exotic fruits. The fruits included delicious custard apple (new to my 3 companions), pineapple, an out of season hard but edible mango, kiwi fruit and the usual banana and apple.
Music, Ceremony and Dancing
Near the start of the evening, a violinist played a few tunes to add to the atmosphere.
The music the couple arrived to was actually the same classical tune my work uses for its radio advertisements. I do not recall its name, but it is not a tune I would normally associate with either radio commercials or weddings.
Around the 3 layers of wedding cake, glorified sparklers lit up the central area and grabbed everyone’s attention.
The second live music act was a singer who sang old European standards, largely French, but also the odd English, Spanish and Italian song.
The third, main and final music group included a guitarist, percussionist, keyboardist and singer. This quartet played music very similar to the music at many Turkish weddings, a kind of Arabesque. According to Bangali (who is fluent in Arabic) the singer entertained the audience very well with his singing, quips and remarks.
Unsurprisingly, the couple were the first on the dance floor. Following them were immediate family couples and then other couples joined fray, waltzing to the European standards.
With the Arabesque, more of the guests (including myself) went on the dance floor and danced similarly to the Turkish style I had seen so many times before. I was actually surprised at how many people did dance. I expected the affair to be a bit more conservative.
At various times of the night, some guests ululated (thanks Tom) as a sign of appreciation for the wedding couple.
By 3 am the night was winding down and the four of us joined many of the other guests in exiting the building, saying good bye to the wedding couple and immediate family on the way. Waiting outside for the newly married husband and wife was a Lebanese number plated stretch limousine. I guess the vehicle was going to head to the Pullman hotel, where the husband and wife would enjoy their night together in the penthouse suite …… THE END
I will write more about the trip to Syria and catch up with my emails soon, I promise!
Finally, the next update from my Iran trip, the trip that now seems a piece of ancient history.
Sunday 5 September 2004
For breakfast we ate fresh mangoes and ugly, flat peaches (the kind we had previously eaten in Tabriz. The 2 mangoes were the first mangoes I had eaten since the 1st half of 2003 in Australia. They were not the best mangoes but they were far better than the zero mangoes I had eaten in Turkey!
Tehran University was our next destination and a taxi-ride later we were there. Across the road from the university were many bookshops, a few of which we entered and looked around. Although the summer holidays had not finished, there were still many students in the vicinity.
Karin and I tried to enter the university but we were not allowed in without a permit so the security guard asked the closest student to take us around the corner where we could obtain our permits. This kind student, who spoke no English, went with us until we eventually found the correct office located across from the main campus. He was rewarded with some cezerye I carried in my bag specifically to give to a kind person. At the office Karin gave her ID for the university official to photocopy and the woman asked us if we were journalists. A ‘no’ was a good enough answer to satisfy her and we received a piece of paper with Farsi writing – the permit. Officials in another office were satisfied with this permit and were free to enter the university.
At Tehran University’s side entrance we gave the paper to the security guard and then proceeded on to the campus. Architecturally, the campus was not striking. However, it was not the architecture that drew me there. Tehran University was the seen of many of Iran’s political and social struggles. With very few people on campus I could only imagine the riots and protests that have taken place in the past. We walked past the large covered square. Every Friday thousand of men pray their midday prayers on the rolled-out carpet. This prayer gathering would be a sight not to miss on my next visit to Tehran.
We relaxed on a bench and read a few of the local English language newspapers purchased earlier in the day. Another brief walk and our Tehran University experience was almost complete. I write almost, because we exited via the main entrance. Painted on the ground at the main entrance were Israeli and US flags with most of the colour gone from years of Iranian soles treading on them. I recall seeing footage of the flags on Australian TV several years ago. As the security guard was at the and gate and the flags were faded, we did not bother taking photos.
For the taxi to Imam Khomeini Square the driver wanted 20,000 rials but I gave 15,000 as it was really a 10,000 rial trip. The taxi vehicle was a modern car – our only taxi ride in a new car for the whole trip – all the rest were . On the way we passed a church, also modern-looking.
Our intention at Imam Khomeini Square was to visit the National Museum. We walked around and around but could not see a sign for the museum anywhere. We were about to enter a park the vicinity of the museum but were still unsure when a man wanted to have a chat. He claimed he had obtained an Australian visa in Damascus. The man also pointed us in another direction to the museum. Around we walked again.
On the way, I chatted to a diplomat’s chauffeur. Several almost identical Mercedes Benz sedans and the odd equally luxurious 4 wheel drive, each with flags indicating different countries were parked. Italy, Slovenia and Finland were amongst the countries represnted but, unsurprisingly, I didn’t see any US or Israeli flags. The chauffeur’s car had the flag of Cyprus, including the whole island, although only the bottom 2/3 is controlled by that country. Of course he spoke English and he explained the way to the museum. Near the museum is the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The Ministry is located in a beautiful building but it is not a place to take photos.
The second time at the small park we ignored the weirdo who had provided the previous, incorrect advice and made our way to the National Museum. I really believe the museum should be signposted better.
The museum cost 6,000 rials. Previously, foreigners paid 60,000. The museum was small when compared with the Museum of Anatolian Civilisations in Ankara and particularly, the massive Egyptian Museum in Cairo. However, every piece on exhibit was of great quality. Lots of items on display were from the historic sights of Persepolis and Susa. I recommend people see the museum after Persepolis to improve the museum experience.
The National Museum ticket gave free entry to the Islamic Museum. The decorative arts in this museum were very interesting but Karin and I were too tired and hungry to look over all the exhibits set on levels 1 and 2 seriously.
We managed to hold our hunger until we reached ‘Tomato’ restaurant, located close to the British Embassy. I chose ‘Bacon and Mushroom’ pizza. Iranian substitute bacon does not quite taste the same as real bacon! For Iran, the price was pricey: 2 medium pizzas, 1 pineapple drink, 1 coke, 1 cappucino and 1 delicious French coffee came to 72,000 rials (about USD 8.50).
The music in the background was either German or 70’s/80’s metal music. A curtain could be moved in front of the window to protect couples from the pry of the street. One man and woman did utilise this when we were there. The customers were young and liberal.
We walked back around the British Embassy to the Pars Internet Cafe. The patronage consisted of locals, Nigerians and other foreigners. Nigerians were also staying at the hostel. I don’t know what they were doing in Tehran but from their vibe and the way they looked and spoke to Karin I don’t think they were here for positive reasons. Having said that, I bet they also suffered from racism here. We didn’t see Nigerians anywhere else in Iran. The computers had malware on them and it was not a good Internet cafe.
On the way to the hostel I changed another USD 100 (for 87,000 rials), our 3rd $100 changed in 3 days – fast compared to the rest of the trip. Back at the hostel we packed our bags and paid 100,000 for 2 night. We didn’t actually stay 2 nights but we arrived 7 am the first day and left 8 pm the next. We presented the workers with some Turkish delight and one of them, the one who sleeps at reception, went with us outside to hail a tax that would take us to Azadi bus station, western Tehran, for 20,000 rial, the normal rate. We were to catch a bus back to Tabriz.
The taxi ride(s) to Azadi was a classic experience. Traffic was at its horrible best – slow, but the cars, motor bikes and other vehicles still jostled for position and tried to gain every single millimetre they could. I mentioned the “(s)” after “ride” because the first taxi ran out of “benzine”. The way the driver tried to restart the car several times made me think he had ran out of diesel.
We had waited long enough and the bus departure time of 9.30 pm was fast approaching so I stepped out, gave the drive 15,000 and hailed another taxi (actually, any car that stopped – both taxis didn’t have “taxi” written on them). We made the terminal on time and walked to the bus company’s desk to be directed to the correct bus. Azadi bus station is a large and chaotic station even by Turkish standards. I enjoyed the chaotic (the word just fits perfectly so I have to use it twice) journey to the terminal even though we didn’t know where we were when the first taxi conked out and there was a chance we could have missed the bus. The journey personified the essence of Tehran.
Monday 6 September 2004
After midnight the bus stopped for longer than 30 minutes for a toilet and prayer stop. I guess we had to wait until the last person finished praying, no matter what the scheduled departure time was. I slept very well on the bus the Tabriz despite the lack of leg room and seat reclination (we were in the back row). Conversely, Karin did not sleep much at all.
Tabriz
At about 6 am Karin woke me up as the bus had stopped outside the Tabriz bus terminal. We got off and then Karin remembered the bag of posters left on the overhead shelf above our seats. She ran off after the bus at the speed of light to successfully retrieve the bag.
The local taxi driver insisted on 20,000 for the trip into the city. This was the same journey only in reverse that a taxi driver had previously asked for only 5,000. On a park bench near the bazaar we sat, wondering which hotel to go to. We wanted a more comfortable place than the previous Tabriz hotel. We ended up at the Park Hotel, a hotel that looked good in its day, assuming one was referring to the 1970’s or 1980’s.
For 80,000 rial our large room contained ensuite shower and toilet, fridge, TV and the only double bed (or pair of single beds together) we saw in Iran. There were even inbuilt lamps for each side of the bed and a heart-shaped mirror! The toilet was broken, there was no hot water, the TV reception cable was broken, half the lights didn’t work, we didn’t bother plugging in the fridge, the drinking glass stuck to the plate and the hotel was under renovation but we didn’t care as the bed and pillows were comfortable.
‘Tabriz: the 2nd time’ will be my next Iran update
Across the road from the old American Embassy are a number of souvenir shops. We entered several of them, looking for a present for Devrim and Efkan for the occasion of their wedding that we both missed. We decided on a copper vase coated in white porcelain with a traditional blue pattern. This handicraft is famous in Isfahan.
We took a modern taxi (most taxis are old) ride back to Khomeini Square. On the way we passed a church. At a pharmacy we couldn’t find an Iranian brand of condoms for Karin’s boyfriend in Istanbul. Surprisingly, condoms are openly on display in Iranian pharmacies. We felt embarrassed leaving the pharmacy after only gawking at the condoms, all of which were international brands.
At a nearby juice shop we drank fresh mango, pineapple and banana juice. Next to us was an Indian who lived and worked in Tehran. Unlike most foreigners in Iran, it was not so easy to pick him out. On another occasion in Tehran we saw a Sikh man and woman – they were easy to spot!
To get to Cafe Naderi, next to the hotel of the same name, we walked past the British Embassy again. According to the Lonely Planet, the local intellectuals come to this cafe. Althought the seats and tables did remind us of a school cafeteria, the cafe did exert a certain element of coolness. I enjoyed the Turkish coffee, cake and just sitting, relaxing in such a ‘wow’ city and location. Karin did not find her filter coffee to her liking although the addition of a substantial amount of milk made the flavour quite palatable in my opinion. The cafe has a restaurant next door although we did not venture there to try their meals. In the male toilet, outside, at the back and right side of the cafe, I used something I never witnessed anywhere else in Iran – a pisser. For those not in the know, a pisser is the individual porcelain bowl anchored to the wall for males to urinate into. I was 10 or 11 when I first remember seeing one of these in the local Catholic church toilets. I don’t know why pissers are not common in Iran.
The cafe was closing and we left to walk back to the hostel. On the way we walked past a transvestite! I did not get a good look at him/her/it but Karin saw the lipstick, make-up, the whole lot. Doesn’t quite fit the stereotypes of Iran, does it?
This is what I love about large cities – there is a large variety of people and styles. ‘Different’ people can fit in, in such cities.
We stopped at a newspaper stand to look at some local publications. As well as the daily English-language newspapers, we bought some Farsi newspapers and several Farsi magazines. The most interesting magazine was a women’s sewing magazine. All the models wore hats or similar covering their heads. For evening dresses and other clothes that would normally expose their shoulders, arms and lower legs, the models wore a skin-tight layer of tops and bottoms that covered these parts. Visible on one of the dresses the model’s left nipple indentation. Iranian porn!
Another interesting fact, in my opinion, is all the women featured were ‘old’ compared to equivalent western magazines. I guess mid-30’s. The cultural inference with having an older woman is, I believe, she is married and she is not ‘selling herself’ like could be seen with a younger model as used in western magazines. What I just mentioned could also be rubbish and the women models were mid-30’s because this was the same age as the target group of the magazine. Like in western magazines, the women were thin. This sewing magazine was rather expensive for Iran, at 25,000 rials (USD$3).
Back at the hostel I used the Internet before going to bed. Microsoft Word on the hostel computer was very frustrating as it was the Farsi version. Of course I could write in Latin script, but the line breaks were on the left of the page and the script kept reverting back to Farsi.
Some general points I had written down in my diary at this stage of my trip
-All the lemons were uniformly small (like a giant olive) and most were light green in colour.
-Ice is still delivered to many businesses. Large, long and square in circumference pieces of ice were common on the city streets in Iran, especially in the morning.
-Several (most?) TV’s still retained their stickers on the screens like when they were new. Even the in train stations. It must be of some imortance or status to keep the sticker there as it impedes the view of the top of the screen.
-As expected, Tehran is more sophisticated than the rest of the country. A greater variety of people and shops and a more liberal dress were displayed. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to visit Northern Tehran where the rich and liberal elite live. I would have liked to spend a few hours in the cafes and parks there on a summer evening.
-Many aspects of the India<->Turkey influence are visible from the food, spices, fruit, people, culture, etcetera. I find fascinating the variations and shared influences between the countries across this part of the world.
-Almost all police cars are new shape, white Mercedes-Benz sedans. I find this an outrageous expenditure for a poor country. I’m sure the government received a good deal from MB but I can’t imagine how many jobs could be created with the money in lieu of these cars. One local said the cars were bought because they would be faster than the criminals.
-In the heat of the early afternoon many shops and people take a ‘siesta’ and close for 3, 4 or 5 hours before opening again in the late afternoon. Eminently sensible, particularly in desert places like Yazd.
-Small water channels were located on the roadsides in all the cities visited. I’m not sure of the exact purpose(s) of such channels. If somebody said they were sewers I would believe based solely on the smell although I did not see any physical evidence of sewerage.
-The largest note in Iranian money is the 20,000 rial, also known as 2,000 tomans and 2 Khomeinis. Its value is about USD$2.30. This note was only introduced in the past year or so and is uncommon. In fact, we only saw the note once in the whole trip when a money-changer was going to give us a few 20,000’s. Instead, we accepted 10,000’s. Given the low value, large bundles of 10,000’s are common.
-Even though we were both from Australia (During the last half of the trip Karin said she was from Australia as it fitted with our ‘marriage’) not one person mentioned anything about Australia’s involvement in ‘TWAT’ (the war against terror). People, men in particular, were far more likely to mention the final qualifying game for the 1998 soccer world cup between Australia and Iran. The winner of the 2 match home and away series would win entry to the world cup. The first game in Tehran was a 1-1 draw – a satisfactory result for a Australia as the team may not have survived if they had won in Tehran 😉
At the Melbourne Cricket Ground in the second game, Iran came from 0-2 down to draw 2-2 and win the series on the away-goals rule. I laughed and shared the joke when Iranians mentioned this game. As an aside, Australia was the only undefeated side in the 1998 world cup yet they did not qualify for the finals.
-No smoking areas are common, including cafes and other businesses. I hardly recall seeing one such area in Turkey.
-The tap water is drinkable everywhere. Public water stations are provided on virtually every street. I’m sure many of them are provided by people and businesses out of their generosity.
Stay tuned for Tehran 3
Tehran is one of the world’s great cities and a metropolis of 12 million people. A peculiar motivation for coming here was to experience some of the world’s craziest traffic (thanks Uran for the tip). More about that later…
For some time we waited inside the Tehran train station. 5 am was too early to go and look for a hotel room. Besides, train stations are a great place to observe society, particularly in a country like Iran where the train stations we saw (only Yazd and Tehran) were new and not sleazy.
Upon leaving the train station we were directed to the official taxi booth. For Mashhad Hotel the fare was 25 rials, expensive when compared to other cities in Iran but this is Tehran. The taxi driver ended up taking us to the Hotel Mashhad, the wrong place. He then insisted on an extra 10 rials to drive us to Amir Kabir Avenue, the vicinity of the Mashhad Hotel. He didn’t know where the Mashhad Hotel was and ended up pointing us in the wrong direction for Amir Kabir after saying he could not drive further because it was a one-way street. When he asked for extra payment I should have asked for and written down his details. He then probably would have lifted his game!
In the early morning I could already notice Tehran’s pollution. Tehran also has bus-only lanes. These lanes are most likely to promote public transport and combat the pollution and traffic of private vehicles.
The Mashhad Guesthouse (also called Mashhad Hotel) cost 50,000 rials per night for a double room. Karin and I dropped our bags in the room and went for a walk to Khomeini Square. At a café we drank pre-packaged juices and bought alcohol-free Efes Pilsen beers imported from Turkey. I haven’t seen the alcohol-free version in Turkey and imagine it is possibly an export only product. We also purchased a copy of each of the 3 English daily newspapers: Tehran Times, Iran Daily and Iran News.
We walked in a random direction and ended up in the embassy district. On one side of the street were the German and Turkish Embassies. On the other side, with concrete barriers surrounding it, was the British Embassy. The UK and Iranian governments have not experienced the best relationship over the past year. The embassy was attacked a few times and the heavy security presence is a reflection of this. One of the embassy buildings visible from the outside displayed windows with holes from bullets and or explosives.
Back at Khomeini Square we caught the metro west to Azadi. A woman was kind enough to help us with any questions we had. The first 2 or 3 carriages on every metro train are reserved for women although I once saw a man in one of these carriages. Karin stayed with me in the men’s though, like some other women. One ticket on the metro is 650 rials. Tehran’s system is modern and the carriages were built in China.
A short, shared taxi ride (1,000 Rials) and we were at the Azadi Tower. This is possibly the most prominent landmark in Tehran. The Azadi Tower was built in 1971 to celebrate 2,500 years of Persian civilisation. The tower is 45 metres tall and provides welcome shade from the summer sun. It is situated on a roundabout, moonlighting as a park with lawn and trees. A policeman/man in uniform took great delight to blowing his whistle to get people off the lawn. A family was moved twice after they tried to picnic under the shade of two different trees. In the distance to the west several air force jets took off, one after another. Before and after these flights, commercial passenger jets took to the sky. Tehran’s main airport is west of Azadi.
After some confusion and with the help of a boy (who received some Turkish delight for his efforts) we found the Azadi bus terminal. Buses to the north and west depart from Azadi, a large terminal, even by Turkish standards. We were looking for a bus to the Caspian Sea for a day trip between Tehran and Tabriz. Karin particularly wanted to visit this part of Iran. As there were no convenient buses for our schedule, we bought tickets direct to Tabriz. Karin was tempted to go direct to Istanbul to meet her special ‘Turkish delight’.
One very interesting thing I observed at Azadi bus terminal was a young girl, aged 7 or 8 I guess, wearing a headscarf AND a shoulder less dress. The irony!
The bus terminal (I always write ‘terminal’ because it is called this in Farsi, only with a French accent) also contained the first supermarket we had seen in Iran. Although it wasn’t a big supermarket, it was a supermarket nevertheless.
A ride in an unmarked taxi to a metro station (not Azadi, but one stop east) and a metro journey later, we were back at Khomeini Square. Near the square I bought fresh mangos! After a lunch of tuna, jambon (not made from pork) and salad sandwiches sleep was calling.
In the afternoon a second taxi brought (the first one demanded too much money) us to the sight of the old American Embassy. This was one of my reasons to visit Tehran. The outside wall of the form embassy block is decorated with anti-American propaganda. Of course I don’t support the propaganda but I had heard of its notoriety and I didn’t want to miss it. We continued snapping away taking photos until Karin spotted a soldier looking at us unpleasantly from above. The cameras were put back in their bags and we decided we had seen enough of the embassy, happy to have not had our film/digital media taken. I will include a picture or two of the propaganda when I post some photos of the trip.
I will add the next Tehran update soon
