MIKE'S NEWS

Christmas Day. A box of Turkish Delights for Jo. A phone call to the family. Then back on the bikes. By the end of the day we were in the snow. For a place to stay, we asked a family in a small village with a basic house. Christmas was complete. They served us chicken in broth - a little on the rubbery side, but it was a reminder of our family dinner so many thousands of km's away.

The next day, the black tarmac turned white and the wind grew stronger as we climbed higher. Winter was definitely here in turkey. Iran, we hoped, would be a bit warmer!

With the biblical Mt. Ararat watching over us, we pedalled to the Iranian/Turkish border. Although we had our visas in hand, I was a little nervous. So many stories have been told about the difficulty of getting through customs. We weaved our way between the line up of hundreds of goods trucks to the border station. Surprisingly, the process was very painless. Only a little cold as we stood in the dark, grey, no-mans room between the two countries. Ataturk and Ayatollah Khomeini paintings looked down upon us with questioning frowns.

We are in! I smiled with relief as we rolled down the hill into Iran. Not much warmer, but at least in the low valley we had escaped the snow.

Jodie was feeling a little down. Long travel, constantly on the move,cold conditions, wind against us and yet again another foreign culture. Our emotions will both be up and down over the next 7 months.

At all times in public, Jodie must wear a scarf to cover her hair. Arms and legs are not to be exposed too. In the cold of winter, this is comfortably acceptable. On the open roads, she wears the scarf and regular clothing.
\par When we entered the big city of Tabriz, she put on her chaador. A black long dress and lots of draping fabric that covers all but the hands and face. She now appeared as a large black bat on two wheels. What a sight it was for me, and for the locals, as she dodged and weaved her way through the crazy Iranian traffic of no rules. If the wind blew hard enough, I'm sure she would have taken flight.

Jodie's feelings were turned around in Tabriz. We both got a morale boost from the friendship and kindness shown to us by our new friends. Plucked from the streets while looking for an Information centre in the wrong place. Reza and Zahra invited us back to their loving family's home. So many of the young people in Iran speak excellent english, even though they get very little opportunity to practice. This is a culture of very clever people.

We were introduced to some great traditional music. Reza and his friends - talented musicians - played a variety of instuments, producing some great songs. Zahra, a beautiful dancer, performed for us, moving gracefully.

We met the cousins and uncles and enjoyed a wonderul dinner with them. They all had so many interesting and thoughtful questions to ask. Hours were spent talking. I enjoyed their intelligent curiousity and with most of the questions, I learnt more about the Iranian culture. Spending New Years Eve with these great people is a very happy and special memory for me.

In a country of few foreign visitors, we constantly drew a lot of attention on the loaded bikes. We have yet to see another girl on a bike. In the town of Zanjan, we drew such a large crowd when we stopped to talk about some shopping we needed to do. So much so, that the police came by and asked us to move on. We had started to cause a traffic problem.

Riding over the mountains towards the city of Hamadan, we found ourselves back in the cold and wet. Again it was snowing on the high pass. Cold and tired of this weather, I was wishing to be somewhere else. Then, parked on the side of the road, a family of angels awaited us with a glass of hot tea. They then invited us to stay with them in the city we were riding towards. Although still a day and a half away, this kind action came at the right time and my spirits were lifted. Immediately after leaving them, the clouds broke for a moment and a full bright rainbow stretched across the blue sky.

After visiting the attractive riverside city of Esfahan, we rode further south. In search of warmer days!!
Who said Iran was a hot place?
The valley floors that we pedalled were flat and empty with steep rocky, brown and treeless mountains running parallel to us. Being winter, there was little greenery to break the stark monotone of dirt brown. Only the white snow covered peaks offered any variety. Yet in this desert like environment there was a quiet beauty.

In between the larger cities, small villages hugged the roads, offering places to find water and food. As well as sharing some of their daily ways with us as we rode by. Fresh fruit and vegies spilled out of the green grocers, a restaurant squeezed in between dirty mechanic shops. Ladies in black cloth lined up at the bakery, taking away a mountain of flat bread for the family. At one of the butchers I had to stop to get a photo. Two camels heads' hung over the veranda. An effective product display!

Almost out of the small town of Abadeh, a man and his two young boys pulled up beside us. After a brief introduction, Sasan invited us back to his family's home. He and his family had shared their kind hospitality with many tourists passing by. The guest book told many stories of travellers being dragged back to the house to be showered with kindness.
A charismatic man, full of life. We met the origin of his energy - his comical and boisterous father, Ayaz. What a team these two made. All smiles and kindness.

On our way to Shiraz, we stopped for a look at the Archemenian ruins of Persepolis (locally known as Takht-e-Jamshid). Dating back to 512 BC, the ruins of this massive structure gave an idea of its glorious past.

Sasan and Ayaz had arranged for somewhere to stay in Shiraz. The son of a good friend of 50 years. Since we had to extend our Iranian visa and apply for an Indian visa, this would be very helpful. Majid (the son) and his wife Mehrnaz have been fantastic hosts. Being of similar age to us and again speaking excellent english, we have developed a great friendship. Both loving a good time and Majid a bit of a clown, we have had many laughs together. In their modern apartment, that could be in the city of Melbourne, we have joked and talked, ate and.....ate!

On the streets, the Islamic law may be enforced, but inside the personal homes, they do as they wish. Liking dancing, although forbidden, we cranked up the stereo one night and danced our hearts out to Arabic, Iranian and Techno. I haven't had that variety at a club before.

Iran, with it's overwhelming hospitality has opened up my mind and heart to a country and people we know little about, yet often hold great judgements.



JODlE'S NEWS

Land of the big black bats...

Soon, the magnificent view of Mt. Ararat was a memory, as we wove our way, through hundreds of trucks, to the border. Stationary. Waiting. How long will it take them to cross? How long will it take us?? Having heard and read many stories of epic experiences, I was doubtful of how easy it would be.

An empty, desolate room. THE room. Khomeini on one side, Ataturk on the other,... a post in the middle. When would an official open the door? - when he felt like it of course!! Thankfully, the waiting was short and the ease of entering Iran unfolded. We pushed our bikes through a non-descript courtyard and into the remarkably more pleasant building of Iran. The whole process taking less than 2 hours. Not long at all!!! "Welcome to the Islamic Rebublic of Iran" the sign read in english, as we rode downhill into the town. For a country that seems so anti - American, the buildings of these first towns were very 'western movie' style. Persian signs were everywhere. They just look pretty to me! Though I was relieved to find that the highway signs were subtitled in english.

Our first night was spent as the guest of a coffee house restauranteur, after asking to place our tent on his property. We enjoyed a fine Iranian meal and slept in the restaurant. Unfortunately he owned a scary, growly dog that had bitten me once. We were assured that the dog was scared of water. During the night, a bladder emptying session was necessary. Ultra scary! We crept out the door silently into the still of the night. No dog. So far so good. Mike held a cup of water in one hand and his 'business' in the other, ready for any attack. Both of us watched the corner, praying the dog wouldn't come, and ready to bolt. Would the water thing work? I didn't want to find out.

Being a woman travelling in Iran, especially on a bike, is a challenging experience. At first, I was feeling down, and worried that the entire time would be spent in the shadow of men. Them talking to Mike, dealing with Mike and well, just ignoring me. Our first host did just this and didn't fuel my excitement for being here. But this wasn't all of Iran and my opinion and experiences have changed.

I am convinced that men here have never seen a chick on a bike before. Perhaps something to do with the law that has prohibited women from riding a bike. Even now, it is allowed but never done or even thought of by the women. Where are the tradition breakers???
When riding into a town, cars pull over right in front of me, men stare, go past and stare again as I ride by. Women stare too, but not as "in my face". I wave and smile and this creates a positive reaction from their amazement. I don't really care aout the staring, though it is annoying sometimes, just so long as they don't touch me. Many times we are the cause of traffic congestion when we stop to shop. People, mainly men, gather and stare at close range. Some with english skills practise them in their limited way.

In every large city, we have encountered people who wish to help us who have excellent english. We have to turn down many invitations to stay with a family as we have already accepted one. These people are so inquisitive - about our travel, about what we think of Iran? what I think of the women, of the laws? I really enjoy when the women are brave enough to approach me and start a conversation. They are very intelligent and want to know many things.

Traffic in Iranian cities. There are no rules!!!!!! Vehicles hurtle into intersections and roundabouts without braking and somehow find a space to fit in. Then the space is gone. Next, to be careering across the path of all cars and trucks to exit the roundabout from an inside lane!! Only in Iran (thankgod!). Riding amongst these maniacs has forced us to have eyes in the back of our heads and excellent peripheral vision. "just go" and they will all miss you - is a good motto. Indecision is suicidal. Being a pedestrian is even scarier. Sucking in, whilst perilously jammed between lanes of speeding cars. Letting out a sigh of relief when finally frogger hopping to the other side of the road. And actually driving in a car with someone???? I just had to learn not to watch!!!

We have made some beautiful friends in Iran. Our inability to find the information centre in Tabriz resulted in a young couple helping us and inviting us to stay with their family. Zahra and Reza were so kind and fascinating to talk with. Zahra walked with me, arm in arm, whilst we exchanged cultures of shopping, thinking, dreaming, wedding traditions. Reza was a musician and a master at the tar - a guitar like instrument. We were treated to Zahra dancing - a forbidden thing for Iranians - and listening to Rezas music rehearsal with his friends. The Iranian folk music is great. Music is an exceptionally enjoyable part of the culture for me to enjoy, as I miss it so much. We visited a waterpipe teahouse. A waterpipe is similar to a bong, but they don't do drugs, just scented tobacco. We had to sit in a separate, curtained off, less appealing part because we had women in our group. I don't like this rule at all. It sucks just as much as the women standing in the back of the bus while the men sit on the seats. We smoked a bit of a pipe, with hot glowing embers piled in the cone on top, just for the experience. This wonderful friendship changed my original feelings of a big brown male dominated country to one of fantastic kind people like Reza, Zahra and their family, who have been so hospitable to us.

In one town, we asked to put our tent in a yard and were invited to another mans house. Not much english was spoken, but they were very kind and the whole family came for a huge meal - on the traditional floor tablecloth. The women held their chaadors in their teeth, trying to clear plates, then gave up and did it one handed whilst pulling the chaador tightly around themselves. Only in the presence of men!!!!! These women must have a hard time. It would just frustrate me immensely, not having both hands to work with.

My mother asked if Iran was a brown country. Too true, it is. Mostly due to winter. The soil is different hues, blending many beautiful colours if you look closely. But brown ploughed fields are everywhere. Villages are made of mud, have mud walls around them. The brown doesn't really excite me, though I can see a beauty there if I try.

Rain! it was bound to come. A family stopped their car. In the boot was tea on a silver tray! just for us. They spoke english well and invited us to stay in Hamadan with them. Such kind people. Over the pass we continued. Coming down from the top, the rain was hard in my face. I screwed up my face like and old granny and sttill struggled to see anything. The wind tried to blow me off my bike. I pedalled faster, just wanting to be rid of this crap weather. I now had something to ride towards - friends in Hamadan. We enjoyed staying with Manni and her family and are looking forward to visiting them in Tehran.

In Esfahan, we stayed with an uncle of this family. We also witnessed the heaviest rains in many years. Thankfully the sun shined afterward and we enjoyed the beautiful gardens along the river. The Khaju bridge, where we sat on the descending steps close to the water currents. The Khomeini Square, dominated by the Masjed -e- Emam. A stunning mosque with intricately tiled portals and domes. Quite a pretty city and again some lovely people. We experienced the Friday picnic (like sunday for us) of cooking kebabs on the bbq and chatting with Reza's friends.

Riding south to Shiraz, we stopped at a farm, hoping to put our tent in the field. The owner, Hossein, kindly invited us to his town house for the night. We travelled back to Shahreza and his family home. Our room was a huge entertaining one, with pink sparkly walls and a stuffed eagle in the corner. The traditional fancy chairs spaced evenly around the edge. That evening we enjoyed watching the Best of Mr. Bean - international funniness! We were lucky to meet some very well off and kind people .

Sasan! This man was definitely an experience. He pleaded with us to stay with him and see his guest book, in the town of Abadeh. We needed somewhere to stay and agreed to accompany him and his 2 young boys to his house. Through meeting his father, Ayaz, we were given an address of people in Shiraz to stay with. We are so fortunate.

We rode over a beautiful snowy mountain pass, sun shining in the afternoon. Ayaz found us, and wondered why we had not arrived at his friends house on the other side. The ex-secret police man was checking up on us!!!

In Shiraz, we are the guests of Majid and Mehrnaz. They are a wonderful couple. The other night, we danced and danced - in front of the video camera and then watched and laughed!!! Made all the more funny as dancing is illegal. So is the western music, (Garth Brooks rules) that Majid had accumulated and smuggled into his house. As long as it is in the private home - no one knows and that's ok.
We burn around town in Majid's buick - cheap to run in iran! Plummeting into the gaps in streams of traffic. Passing and pushing in, being the only sure way to get anywhere, with the need to do it boldly. No Fear!!!
In the 4WD, we have enjoyed a picnic by a lovely lake - even though we were seriously bogged.... twice!!!!!
We are becoming good friends. We try to learn farsi and they have extended their english vocabulary. Mike has had a great time speaking the many languages of the world ( if only he could really!)with Majid - they are so funny, especially in chinese!!!! Didgeridoos of the vacuum cleaner parts at breakfast, chaadored visits to the most shiny tomb I have ever seen. The chaador really is a pain in the ass to wear but to see so many mirrored patterns and walls - all was mirrors!!! it was worth it. We are having a ball (and waiting for that Indian visa) and enjoying the company of our wonderful friends.

We have had our visa extended for another month. No mum and dad, we won't stay that long! Soon we will fly to India - another culture to explore. We're just waiting for our visa!!!!!