Enjoying 4star comfort 
Today I was rolling across rice paddy fields and long green flatlands when I caught my first sight of the Caspian Sea (or is it a lake). I was finally back at sea level. In fact I was below sea level as this body of water is at -21 M. I had just completed 130KMs and was looking out for a suitable camping ground, when I got chatting to a guy in his mid-twenties named Mohammad. He invited me to his home to meet his family, have food and stay the night. His timing was perfect and I followed him on his motorbike to their beautiful home. I got to met his father and brother and after about an hour we decided to go to another house, where I understood his mother was going to be. I only wish I had brought my camera so that I could have taken photos and shown ye the events of the evening. The house we visited had 11 people there and we all sat down on the floor to a massive feast, which included 19 bowls (I counted them) of different foods. I made a good attempt to leave that house a stone heavier but we still only ate a little more than half the food put in front of us. Afterwards Mohammad and I went to the local saloon to smoke the water pipe with a few of his mates.Next morning we had bread from the local bakery and a selection of jams (Kiwi,Peach and Orange) all homemade and grown in the back garden. Even the tea we were drinking came from the garden and was been dried out on the living room floor. After breakfast, Mohammad jumped straight into 'tour guide mode' and drove me around the city and pointed out all the worthwhile sights. We visited his former workplace, a 4* hotel. And a 4* hotel has a 4* western toilet. Its amazing the things you miss when you're away from home. After lunch it was time to load up and continue on this long journey eastwards. This was just another example of the outstanding goodness of the Iranian people. The language barrier made conversation difficult but it did not stop this family taking me in and treating me as one of their own. Its amazing. And I'm filthy dirty as I'm cycling along this dusty Caspian Sea dual carriageway. By the end of the day, there are streams of sweat, dust and sun cream running down my face, which makes the home invitations all the more incredible.
I was cycling along when a guy named Samad drove up along side me and we had a chat. He was a schoolteacher in the next town and had good english and invited me to his home for food, lodging and a chat. Samad told me that in Iran it is believed that the traveller, especially the foreign traveller, is sent by God and we must do our best to cater for him. Personally I'm surprised at God sending one so unclean, but Samad didn't seem too bothered. He took me into town to meet the locals and we went for a drive to see the nearby sights.As we were driving around we were stopped at one of Irans' many roadside police check points. Now before I tell this story, I'd just like to point out that there are loads of roadside checks from the police but all through Iran the police have either ignored me or been welcoming to me. (In fact once I got a police escort through a town. They stopped the traffic at each roundabout and waved me through.) And that's what made tonights' proceedings all the more bizarre.So we were stopped at one of Irans' many police check points. The policeman became suspicious of my business in north eastern Iran. Samad explained I was an Irish tourist travelling through the region and that we had met on the road and that he had invited me to his home.
If travel was a disease then I'm riddled with it. But no country has ever exceeded my expectations as Iran has. Anyone who says 'The world is a small place' has never really travelled much. With almost 200 countries in the world, I never make a point of returning to a country, no matter how good it is. But Iran is the exception here. I'm definitely coming back to Iran. The reason - Its people. I'm not talking about Iranian politics or religion. This blog is not about that. There are plenty of other websites on that subject. This is about the people. Everyday I was approached and welcomed by the people. Although 99% of the time it was from the men. When I get home from this trip I might check out some blogs of women who travelled solo in Iran because I would be curious as to how they found it. Its easy for a bloke to travel in Iran but women are still, in my opinion, treated as second class citizens. They sit at the back of the bus, they must always have a head scarf on and I noticed they can't join a funeral procession till after the last male mourner. I know some of the areas I travelled through get zero tourists and the fact that I'm travelling on a bike and on my own, means that sometimes the over friendly locals can just get too much. Its overpowering when you are literally dragged into somewhere for tea. Then there was the guy who rode his motorbike along side me for 15KMs even though he hadn't a word of english. I generally communicate using sign language but that isn't easy when you're cyclIng and you're already using both hands to wave at everyone else. Then there was the guy who insisted on buying me new sunglasses. I have a large cracK in the frame of my glasses. I like the fact that my glasses are broken but still usable. It helps dispel the notion that tourists are walking ATMs. But one time I stopped to take some photo next to a street vendor selling shades. An overfriendly local just wouldn't accept that I wouldn't let him buy me new glasses. I had to literally pedal away from him fast. All the offers of food and water when I'm on the road are very welcome but its just the repetition of the same mind numbing pigeon english/farsi conversation that wears you down.During my 21 days in Iran I must have been offered about a dozen invitations to peoples' homes. I was given enough food and water to almost fill a shopping trolley. Not once during my entire time here did I pay for cay (tea). It was always on the house. The people of Iran just continually amazed me with their welcomes and hospitality.
After 4000KMs we finally made from Istanbul across Turkey and Iran to within sight of Turkmenistan. Tomorrow is the last day of my Iranian visa and I'm presently camped in the border compound. It has been incredibly hard going. Since leaving Istanbul 46 days ago, I've only had 2 rest days; 1 in Erzurum, Turkey and 1 in Tabriz, Iran. And these rest days were spent fixing the bike, updating this blog etc. And so tomorrow we leave Iran and (hopefully) cross over into Turkmenistan. So what do we know about Turkmenistan? Lets talk about the visa situation first. Now this is where it gets complicated. Without doubt, the Turkmen Visa has been the single biggest headache of this adventure and I have been researching how to get this visa long before I left Naas. No tourist it seems can get anything more than a 5 day visa unless they join a designated tour. I don't want to join a tour. I want to pedal around the world. But my dream for many years, has been to go to the capital city, Ashgabat, and continue on the road north, directly through the centre of the Karakum desert. But there is no way I could do this in 5 days and either way the Turkmenistan embassy in Istanbul wouldn't give me a visa. The door was firmly shut here. I heard from other cyclists in Turkey that the Turkmenistan embassies in Ankara, Turkey and Mashad, Iran were giving out 5 day visas. Both these cities would add a few hundred KMs onto my bike ride and I was already so strapped for time due to my late departure from Istanbul. And either way, its back to square 1. I would never complete the dream route through Ashgabat and the desert in 5 days.So it seemed like I had 2 choices, neither of which I was happy about;OPTION 1: Strap the bike onto the roof of the bus and do a tour through Ashgabat and the desert. Getting a visa is relativity easy if you join a tour.OPTION 2: Strap the bike onto the roof of the bus and detour through either Ankara or Mashad. Hopefully get a visa here and cycle across Turkmenistan through the shorter southern route.But one thing I have always loved about Asia it that "Where there is a will, there is a way" and a way can be greatly powered by dollars. I got in touch with http://www.stantours.com/. This company is highly regarded in sorting out Central Asian visa problems. I learned that a 'tour' doesn't technically need to involve getting on a 'tour bus'. It just means that you are in the company of a 'tour guide'. So with that in mind, all you need to find is a tour guide willing to cycle through the heart of the Karakum desert. And guess what, Stantours found one. Its the first time this company has done a bicycle tour and most important to me is that the tour continues on my preferred route without any planes, trains or tour buses. I just hope some ambitious young lad in a Raleigh chopper with a flat back tyre doesn't greet me at the border tomorrow.So that's the story with the visa. Now what about the country itself. To be honest I don't know too much about the country but what I do know both fascinates yet confuses me. The country is 7 times bigger than Ireland, yet it has roughly the same population number. The reason for this is because Turkmenistan is 95% desert (but yet it has the worlds biggest fountain). Much of the eccentricity of this country is due to its former president , Turkmenbashi. This chap has a 12M high golden revolving statute of himself in central Ashgabat. His face is on every banknote and every central square and public building is named after him. According to him, if you read his book 7 times in a row, you're guaranteed a place in heaven. He had his own soap opera, 'Turkmanbashi, My leader'. He once sacked one of his ministers on live TV. Although most Turkmen live well below the poverty line, he has spent billions on his palace and yet the country sits on the world's fourth largest natural gas reserves after the U.S, Canada and Russia. Even when a meteor hit Turkmenistan a decade ago, it was called the 'Turkmenbashi meteor'. More than anyone else, this man has made Turkmenistan what it is today. And so tonight I say goodbye to Iran and tomorrow we'll get to face into Turkmenistan.
What a bizarre place this is. Its like Central Asias' answer to Las Vegas. The first thing you notice is the heat and then its probably the marble sky-scrapers everywhere. Considering its 32C in the city its going to hit the forties when we get into the desert. Today I wandered around the city, checked out the revolving statute of Mr Turkmenbashi, the Arch of Neutrality, the Earthquake Memorial, the Turkmenbashi Palace and so on. Its a 'one of a kind' city. White marble building and policemen everywhere. And all the construction that's going on. Its unreal. The 12 metre golden statute of Turkmenbashi is probably the single biggest tourist attraction in Turkmenistan, yet the 2 times I visited it today, there was not 1 other tourist in the area. I couldn't even find someone to say "Excuse me, would you mind taking my picture in front of the shiny dictator?". There was only police, gardeners and some children playing.One policeman came up to me and asked,"Tourist-you?". He then followed me around for a bit,more likely amused rather than suspicious,(I think) at the way tourists just wander around staring up at things and taking photos.Today I met my cycling guide, Vitaly. I dont know how Stantours managed to find this guy. This man seems just perfect for the job at hand. He has a very interesting CV. He started off as a bicycle mechanic for 5 years and worked his way to become a profession cyclist with the former Soviet Union. He has raced throughout Europe and Asia and is now Vice President of the cycling federation of Turkmenistan. For many years he has worked with the Red Cross, which gave him the opportunity to travel extensively. He even worked for a while in Northern Ireland. He generally likes to cycle 40KMs a day just to keep fit and he talks passionately about the sport and about bicycles in general. He a likeable guy who speaks perfect English, loves cycling and is well up for the adventure of biking across the Karakum desert. We met up this afternoon, discussed the plan for the coming week and then went to a supermarket to stock up on food for the journey ahead. Tomorrow we set off at 6am.
Why, why, why do people feel obliged to point you in any random direction so as to be 'helpful' when you ask for directions. If you don't know where a particular place is there's really no problem whatsoever. Considering the population of Iran is 70 million I should be able to find someone else and I'll hold nothing against you. On main roads we have signs in Farsi and English, but once you step away from them its mainly Farsi. When I spot a sign in English and Farsi, I take photos of them to help me locate where I want to go when I only have signs in Farsi.
