(Daniel) Despite the promise of high adventure, I struggled to wake up at 4.45am to get showered and ready, but somehow I managed. I had left my bags in Rowan and Gabby’s room, and checked out the night before to save time. The night receptionist Dariush had promised to meet us in Garme, but wasn’t leaving until later, so I said goodbye and walked out to meet Bobek and Saumon on the street. They had managed to get up in time and we drove to the footbridge at the end of the main street to meet Abed. After 10 minutes we realised that something was wrong, and phoned him, but no answer. We continued to call, and after 30 minutes decided that he was still fast asleep. I should explain, that Iranians tend to be night-owls, mainly because in the summer months, temperatures get so high, that the night is the only respite.
We eventually raised Abed’s roommate, who was not happy at being woken up so early! He agreed to wake Abed, and after an hour of trying we finally got a very tired sounding Abed on the phone. We went to pick him up from his house, then drove to a ‘Callipacia’ restaurant for breakfast. My passengers seemed suspiciously amused by the choice, and it was only when we walked in, I realised that Callipacia is ‘sheep’s head’. To elaborate, the whole head is cooked in a broth, then the meat is picked off, in this case by two large bearded men, and laid out neatly on a tray along with the eyes, brain and tongue, and then served hot with bread. I think the boys thought that I wouldn’t be able to eat this Iranian delicacy, and perhaps so did the rest of the very busy restaurant. However, I have a string stomach, and this is the kind of challenge I like. I tried the brain, tongue and eye first before starting on the bread, much to the amazement of the other diners! Once you’ve drunk the blood from the tail of a live king cobra, as I once did in Malaysia, there isn’t much left to disgust you!
After breakfast we headed out onto the highway, and fueled up for the long journey ahead. As we drove into the desert, the roads became more deserted and the landscape changed to endless plains of sand. After about an hour on the road, we spotted some wild camels, feeding on some patches of desert flora. We stopped the truck, and walked back to them. The boys were as excited as me, as they do not often see camels either. As we walked towards the animals, I wasn’t sure if they would attack us or run away. When we got close enough, we ran like children after them and chased them across the sand. Camels it seems, can run like the wind! After our childish game, we walked back to the car, and I let the boys have another sweet smelling cigarette break before we headed on. By the way I don’t allow smoking in the Wolf, as I don’t smoke, and here in Iran it is the only place I can get away from it!
As we drove on, we encountered police checkpoints several times. I think that they just wanted to chat, but it worried me a little knowing that we were carrying alcohol on board. The last stop was especially worrying, as despite my rules, a sweet smelling cigarette had been lit in the back, and the vehicle was practically smoking, as I got pulled over. The boys seemed relaxed, and all pretended that they were foreigners travelling with me. For my part, I felt an intense fear, and my heart pounding in my throat as I wound down the window. As before, the policemen were more interested in asking who we were and where we were going. As we drove away, Abed and Bobek laughed, and said they wouldn’t know what the smell was anyway. I was not so relaxed, and lost my cool a bit.
Eventually we came to a small town just past Anarak, and stopped for lunch. As it is the Hossain festival, we were able to join the festivities, and share the Hossain’s lunch, a major part of the day. Being a foreigner, I was welcomed with open arms, and drew a small crowd. The people wanted to ask me so many questions, and as we walked along with the crowd, the boys all had their hands full translating to the men from the village.
One of the men was especially keen to tell me that Iranian people loved Americans and Europeans, and that they were simply not represented by their government. Again I was saddened by the feeling that these people are obviously under the tremendous pressure of America’s gaze, and of the UN sanctions recently imposed. As we talked the procession returned, and we walked with them to the mosque. To an outsider the procession looks very daunting, the people beat themselves in memory of the sacrifice of their ancestors, and one man asked me how I saw the festival, as a celebration of religion, or a necessity of their religion, I would have liked to reply, but Bobek answered for me, and told them that it was about religion. I would have answered differently however, and said that it was about community. As in a country where you can’t hold a party, or get together, this was an opportunity for the people to come together regardless of the reason.
As the procession passed by, a man came over with a Video camera and interviewed me asking where I was from, and what I thought of the festival and Iran, I answered as best I could, then the old men of the town ushered me into the mosque, and we all sat down for lunch. The men kept asking for more food for me, and it was lucky that the boys either side kept helping me, as I would hate to have left such a huge amount. The food was Camel stew, and rice with a sauce, it was excellent, and still remains one of the best meals which I have eaten in Iran.
Another part of the festival is that families slaughter sheep and camels for the food which they give away, and in rural areas like this one, sheep can be seen being slaughtered on every street corner, and the blood stains from these acts are covering the streets, and sprayed up the walls. I presume that this is also a symbolic gesture to do with the festival, and does certainly have an effect as you drive through a town spattered with blood. Again I will reiterate, that I did not find this festival disturbing, merely interesting. The martyr Hossain died over 1400 years ago, and so much has happened since. The memory of this lunch was of amazing hospitality, as it has been all over Iran so far.
After eating we said our farewells and left the mosque. I noticed that someone had pinched my blind spot mirror from the Wolf, but I have a spare so wasn’t worried. Kids wanting a souvenir I guess. We drove on to Garme, stopping first at a spring, and then at a house where an artist lives. He was away from town at the time, but his Camels were outside and very friendly, although a little smelly! After spending time with the dromedaries, we drove out of the town and crossed into the desert behind. This place was amazing, as far as the eye could see, in any direction there were no people, buildings or anything, just desert. I climbed a hill and took a photo of the Wolf in the expansive bowl before we found a suitable spot to set up camp.
We left Abed at the camp, while Bobek, Saumon and I went to find firewood. Luckily we found some palm trunks outside a ruin nearby, and loaded them on the roof of the Wolf to transport back to camp across the open desert. On our return, Abed chopped the wood, while we set up the rest of the camp and poured some drinks for everyone. I hadn’t drunk any amount of alcohol for some time, and got very drunk, as did everyone. We played music into the desert night, dancing around the fire. I drunkenly fell asleep, but woke up again at three in the morning, only to find the others still awake. We sat up and watched the moon set over the desert, before retiring to sleep again.
Distance Driven 300 miles