Travelogue Iran

From the border to Tehran

May 23, 2022

Monday afternoon I entered Iran where I found a world very different from ours, to which I am trying to get used to.
The navigator is not working, I have not found the map.
In short, the Internet is sometimes there, sometimes not. But you have to use a VPN otherwise you don’t see Facebook, social networks or even Google Maps.
In any case, I cannot log in to my bank’s website.
As my friend Emilio Radice said, whom I thank, they fill you with money at the exchange. I got scammed and changed at customs by a guy for € 100 and he gave me 20,000,000 rials, even though I should have received 29,000,000, but those already seemed a lot to me.
Road signs often with Persian language characters.
I made the first 10 liters on the Vespa and paid a good 300,000 rials, in practice € 1.5 (x 10 liters) at my exchange rate, which would have been € 1.0 at the normal exchange rate. So petrol costs 10 cents.
The motorways are forbidden to motorcycles, but you enter them, you pass the toll booths as if nothing had happened and you don’t pay.
Their concept of restaurant is not exactly ours … I have yet to understand well.
Very few hotels, and it was the very first evening that I was able to appreciate the hospitality of the Iranians. Arriving in Shovt, it was almost dark, a town of a few tens of thousands of inhabitants, nowhere. I do not understand myself, I ask a taxi driver to sleep, he does not speak English, in the end he points me to a hotel that he could see on sight, down in the background. I start to move and immediately a boy arrives on a motorbike, he signals me to follow him, while we walk along the street he tells everyone, right and left that I am Italian. We arrive, others arrive, a small group is formed. The hotel has three rooms, complete, there are no other hotels, others arrive, they call someone who speaks English. Eventually they find me a room from a private person. In 3/4 motorcycles they accompany me, the police support us, they stop us and understand that I was Italian they come too, they talk to who would host me and they tell me, everything is ok, if you need to call us. the owner exquisite person, very strange but very beautiful house, the bed is not there, ok I sleep among the carpets, in the morning he comes and brings me breakfast, which we do together, with his son and his friend. The friend loses an hour to take me to take a SIM that they don’t give me, I don’t understand why. The owner does not want anything, he hardly accepts 100,000 rials, or € 5.
The second night I arrived late in Zanjan and I struggled a lot to find a place to sleep.
Traffic impossible in Tehran, everyone going everywhere, in the direction of travel or in the opposite direction. I found myself in a square, with cars and motorbikes (all without helmets) arriving and going everywhere in a frenetic and messy way .. At a crossroads I see a boy on a motorbike, I ask for info and x 15 km he accompanies me throughout the city up to 1 km from my desired point. Stupendous.
Now I’m in Tehran, quite tired. The manager of the Vespa Club Iran found me to sleep in a very nice and welcoming hostel. I stop here for three days, to settle in and rest.
I try to make my travel program in Iran, I fix the Vespa, I visit the city and if I can I go to the Pakistani embassy to understand if the customs between Iran and Pakistan is open …, Hoping not to go 3,000 km empty.

Vespa Club Iran

Tehran

May 28, 2022

Today I dedicate the day to visit Tehran, but I don’t trust to go out with my Vespa, the traffic is too chaotic and then too risky to leave it unattended.
Ok, no problem, I go out on foot, basically a bit of movement after so many days sitting on a Vespa is just fine.
I left the hostel and walked towards my first area of interest, which is the Museum of Modern Art. It is funny to see how the streets are thematic, first only greeting card shops, then only books, then only tires, then only jewels. In one street they only exchange money, but not the regular offices, hundreds and hundreds of street vendors of local currency.
It’s hot but I don’t give up, after 57 marathons and 2 runs of 100 km you want it to be, however better hydrate and take some water. 10,000 steps, I arrive exhausted, the museum is closed for renovation. Ok, second stop the Persian carpet museum, it’s nearby and I visit it. Meanwhile, I take some photos with Lorenzo.
I look at the map, the Milad tower is too far and I opt for the taxi, which obviously does not understand. But man, it’s one of Tehran’s main attractions and can’t read or decipher the name in English. Okay, since I have already experienced these things in China, I have previously provided a map in Persian language. “Ahhhh, the taxi driver tells me” understood, let’s go.
I arrive at the tower, I pay 1,000,000 rials, no fear, it’s 5 €, I see the tower inside and out, but I don’t go up, tourist price of 15 USD, too many …, Here we don’t have alone to waste. I eat something and decide to go back to the hostel, I’m cooked.
I wait for an official taxi, I tell him where to take me and he says no (but why?), I see an abusive one and he asks me for 2,500,000 rials, (12 €), a theft. A biker sees me and says “taxi?” Of course I tell him, “how much”, he does not understand, ok no problem I take out the money, I show it to him without giving it to him and we agree for € 1,000,000.
The journey begins to cross the whole city (watch the videos).
Finished arrival at the hostel, other than marathon. I recover slowly and tonight night tour of the city in north Tehran, which is the rich part. I get on the Masoud Vespa as a passenger and we ride for an hour and a half, Tehran, with its 8 million inhabitants is gigantic.
After a good Iranian dinner, just for a change based on rice and chicken (Giuliano comes to mind), we go back to the hostel.
In my opinion, I’m not leaving tomorrow before noon.
PS: I also discovered that here, writing from right to left, even the books open from left to right and the paperback is on the right, they are contrary.

From Tehran to Esfahan

May 29, 2022

Today I want to get to Qom, from Tehran and then I stop.
Getting out of the city is easier than expected, I immediately enter the right streets, despite not having a navigator.
Leaving the city the heat increases, more and more and already a few tens of km from Tehran I find myself immersed in a desert landscape, almost lunar. I go ahead very quickly, to the point that I arrive in Qom already at 13.00, too early, I decide to continue to Esfahan, there are only other 280 km. The desert envelops everything and the heat becomes stronger; the few times I stop I start to sweat a lot, better keep going.
I am 90 km from Esfahan, still an hour and a half and there are, I go to reserve, do you want there to be no petrol station in 50 km? I do 60 km with the reserve, but nothing, I run out of gas and remain on foot. Luckily I have a spare tank, even if it is a bit stuck in the luggage.
I finally arrive in Esfahan and play it safe in the hostel that Federico Valeri recommended to me.
I enter, there are other bikes: German, French and Danish. We stop to chat, we go out directly to dinner and now we are on the outdoor patio to chat and enjoy the coolness.
Sooner or later I’ll take possession of my bed, now it’s 11pm here. The first impression is that the city is beautiful and there is really a lot to see, tomorrow I decide what to do.
I already have a reference point 30 km from here for the next few days, then a Vespa rider 100 km from here who will perhaps take me to sleep in the desert and then in Yazd I already know where I’m going to sleep, in another hostel for motorcyclists. Everything is OK !
Curiosity: in the photo you can see the coffee machines of the “Iranian motorway restaurants”. You choose the sachet, tea, coffee or cappuccino, they give you the plastic cup and you take hot water from the outside kettles
PS: the article published today in the Gazzettino is also nice https: //www.ilgazzettino.it /…/impresa_vespa_giro_mondo …

Esfahan

May 30, 2022

Last night we were a bit late, around Esfahan, as in jokes, an Italian, a Frenchman, two Germans and then a Danish and an Iranian joined us.
Today the day starts in the best way, we all meet at the same time for breakfast, an Iranian girl starts playing a French song, beautiful, but you want to put the Italian ones … Bocelli, then Nannini, Rino Gaetano and finally Adriano Celentano and us there, laughing and joking, singing the songs.
Without even realizing it, 9.00 am arrived, Michele and I (the Frenchman) decide to go out before the heat envelops the city with us inside. “What do you say, shall we go to the Grand Bazaar? We should stay cool in there.” The idea does not excite me, as I already know Istanbul well enough, which is super crowded with people and tourists. Here, however, it is quite another thing, long, very long, it never ends, but the nice thing is that there is not even a tourist, indeed we found one, Greek, with her and her mother we took a picture together.
Our tour continues, we chat, take pictures capturing small characteristic glimpses, glances, people, everything we are not used to. It is 2.00 in the afternoon and we decide, exhausted, to go back to the base and rest for a while.
Upon returning we find a German boy, alone, with a Mercedes off-road vehicle used as a camper, a show. Shortly after two boys Aldo and Vera arrive, he approaches me, he is Italian, Neapolitan to be precise. He introduces me to Vera, his wife, a very beautiful Moldovan girl and with a smile that remains impressed on you. They ask me about me and obviously about the Vespa, but then they tell me about them and I am speechless. They are based in England, have known each other for 9 years, married, have been traveling the world in an off-road jeep for 6 years. “I don’t believe it” and they begin to tell me about their lifestyle and travel, the choice, how they live, seems like the story of a film, of a novel. They make videos, they have a YouTube channel. “Ok come on, see you tonight or tomorrow morning”.
In the afternoon, curious around their car, full of stickers and with an experience that shines through every detail. The map on the side of the front door says it all … Man, he just misses Africa. I also see the name of their channel, I connect and watch the videos, very nice, with a style that fully reflects their personality.
Between one thing and another evening comes, the others are a bit lost around, but me, Michel the French and Michel the German we go out for dinner, first passing to see one of the famous illuminated bridges of the city. I am struck by the beauty of the bridges, but even more by the animosity of the people who picnic until late in the evening or simply sit on a low wall to enjoy the beauty of these works.
We have dinner, joke, walk, ice cream and return. It is already midnight and the others are in the garden, “come on, two more words and let’s go to bed”. But Aldo and Vera arrive, with or whom I resume the afternoon’s speeches, attracted by their world. “Tomorrow morning we will show you the jeep and maybe make some videos. Follow them on their channel, laughter guaranteed: https://www.youtube.com/c/AlvetoExpedition
It’s after one, better go to bed. Tomorrow I already have many things to do and then I have to decide where to go, I only have 4 choices: 1) I go to visit Hussein, an Iranian boy who lives 150 km from Esfahan and absolutely wants to host me 2) I go to sleep in the desert, in the dunes, 100 km from here, 3) I go to visit Mohammed, a guy who has an old Vespa and wants to meet me 4) I go directly to Yazd. Tomorrow I will tell you what I have decided.
Oh I forgot, tonight I changed € 50, they gave me 16,000,000 rials …, I have inside me the very pleasant feeling of someone who feels rich.

Alveto Expedition

May 31, 2022

Last night I met these two guys who have been traveling the world for 6 years. This morning we spent two hours together telling each other the experiences, looking at the respective means. It was an intense two hours, which I will calmly tell you about in the next few days. In the meantime, look at their YouTube channel, they make videos that I think are very beautiful.
All proceeds from YouTube donate to a charity.

In the home of an Iranian family

01 June 2022

The feeling I am experiencing these days is that the crossing of Iran will not be as fast as I thought. I see Iran as the country of contradictions that on the one hand fascinates you for its landscape, its cities, its people, but on the other puts you to the test. Yes yes, to a severe test, physically for what they eat and for the climate, for their habits, for how they eat, for their rules, absurdly restrictive for women, but also for men, who cannot even walk around city ​​with shorts.
Today I decided to go back 180 km and go to Garan, to live an afternoon and a night in a real family in a real Iranian village.
Contact Hussein, a guy I met on Couchsurfing who offered me hospitality in his home, I confirm that I accept the invitation
I leave Esfahan late, around 12.00, after spending the whole morning in the pleasant company of Aldo and Vera from Alveto Exepedition, of whom I spoke yesterday.
The area is desert, the road is very hot and as is now customary there are no distributors. I am forced to leave the main road and enter a country to be able to find one before finishing the mix.
Finally I arrive in Garan, even if I discover that I actually have to go to Chigan, a small village that is another 15 km away.
Upon arrival I understand that I have arrived in a place where there really is very little and managed in a very different way from how we Westerners would do.
I meet Hussein, his brother and two other friends of his, then a fifth is added. They immediately offer me to drink and to eat, we try to talk to Google translate, they ask me many questions, some of them too. They tell me about the Koran and how the United States conspires towards Iran, they are very young.
They want to show me what is around, let’s go to the river, to the garden, which is where they have fruit trees and a carpet always ready to spread out (the one in the movie). They show me the panorama of the valley from above, where there is a suggestive Christian cemetery. Walking down the street they ask me not to talk, you shouldn’t understand that I’m a foreigner. They also play football a bit.
We go back to eat, there is only mashed bread, cheese, jam and a solid cream that I have been eating for days and I still don’t understand what it is. We sit on the ground, non-existent tables, eat with our hands, non-existent cutlery. I try not to be influenced by the discomfort of eating with my hands and I binge a little thinking that I should have arrived the next morning.
The father comes from the fields, serious but kind, with his 40 years, he looks many more. Not even the shadow of the mother, even if I had heard some voices from another room as soon as I arrived.
An uncle wants us in his house, it’s a newer, more modern house, but always just chairs and no tables. The uncle invites the brother, the brother’s friend and other acquaintances. Let’s talk about football, let’s drink something I can’t define. 22.00 arrives, it’s time for dinner and we go back to Hussein’s house. I see my mother busy in the kitchen, we haven’t seen each other yet, nor introduced ourselves. He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t come out of the kitchen, neither do I. Tablecloth on the floor, rice and chicken with bread … We begin to have dinner and the woman of the family remains alone sitting on the kitchen floor, I think eating. I don’t ask for anything, they don’t tell me anything.
It’s after midnight and it’s finally time for bed. They pull out some (very hard) blankets and pillows to sleep on the carpets. We hope it goes better than the first experience just entered Iran. I go to the bathroom, I do the essential of the essential. They worry that I’m okay and that everything is “sure”.
Hussein with the translator asks me to wear at least shorts, Iranian rules forbid wearing briefs or boxers … Ok.
At 4.00 am awake and patiently await the dawn, surely someone gets up. So it is, the father gets up and gives the green light to the mother who does not greet me, does not show up and goes straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Tablecloth on the floor, tea, cheese, eggs, the usual indefinite cream and dates … All with your hands. They try to explain the sequence of foods to me, not everything on the table is eaten as you want. I try to understand but they desist, although at every hint of taking something from the tablecloth everyone’s eyes are focused on seeing if I take the right thing. From the grimaces I understand that this is not the case.
I start to prepare the Vespa, departure at 8.00 at the same time as the kids going to school. It’s time to leave, I thank everyone and not even the shadow of my mother, closed in the kitchen …, which is an adjacent room communicating with the living room.
Going out into the village people look at me, the young people curious, the elderly women serious about the balance that maybe I’m breaking, everyone now knows who I am.
Thanks for the hospitality, thank you very much.
I go back to Esfahan with a sweltering heat, I arrive at 12.30 but I still decide to stop, sleep and leave tomorrow well loaded and rested.
Direction salt lakes and desert. Tomorrow evening, I hope to sleep either on the desert dunes or inside a crater.
I hope to get to the Pakistan border in a week.

Desert and salt lake

02 June 2022

Today seems to be a quiet day, just 120km to go to the desert area of ​​Varzaneth and take a ride in the salt lake of Khara.
Since it will be a walk, I decide to take it easy with Heike Lupa, a lonely German motorbike traveler who has been touring Iran for a couple of months. The pairing of his KTM690 and my Vespa P200E isn’t exactly the best, but that’s it.
We arrive in Varzaneth at 14.00, first the impression for at least 50 km is to be in the middle of nowhere, but nothing at all. The heat is suffocating, obviously I can’t find a tavern or a farmhouse to eat something, okay a grocery shop for an ice cream and a pepsi, probably fake, is fine.
From there towards the desert for another 30 km, everything is ok until the dirt part begins which for the KTM690 is a walk but not for me. As soon as the front wheel of my Vespa gets on the first 10 cm of sand I risk falling, I can hardly keep the Vespa in balance …, Maybe I will also have a video to show (first I have to see it again).
30 km of desert road, made in first and second, always with the impending risk of falling. Nice stop in the middle of the desert with a couple of German guys, met the night before, who are returning from the salt lake, by car.
Finally here is the lake, obviously without water but with a lot of salt. It’s exterminated, I didn’t get to the bottom because it’s really big, but I think I’ve covered 6 or 7 kilometers, even here trying to keep the Vespa in balance. The tiredness and the sun make themselves felt, I have a headache, I see Heike ahead of me with the bike on the ground, she fell but nothing to worry about, she forgot to put on the stand, she too feels tired.
We decide to go out, she goes on to find a place to wash the bike, the salt is deadly. It takes me an hour and a half with the wasp to get out of the desert and finally I wash my Vespa too.
In the evening we reach Mohammad Jalali’s guest house, a happy oasis from all points of view. He very hospitable, has created a structure specially designed for overland travelers.
We have dinner together with Aldo and Vera, from Alveto Expedition who I meet really pleasantly. I retire early, so much headache and tiredness.
Things are much better this morning, after a 10 hour sleep. I look at the wasp, it is not washed well, ok soon I take it apart and wash it as it should, I would not want the salt to create permanent damage. Aldo and Vera tell me about their experience in a salty lake in Bolivia … Yes, yes, today it is better that I go over it again.
At breakfast I begin to think about Pakistan, there are 1200 km to the border, but it is better to start looking at us. Mohammed, very experienced, gives me some very useful information: Yazd, RafsanJan, Kerman and then Bam route. In Bam it is better to sleep in a structure that he indicates to me and that will give me useful information for the last stop in Iran which is Zhaedan, where I will have to sleep in a specific location from which to manage entry into Pakistan. In fact Mohammed tells me that from Zhaedan to the Iranian border I will be escorted by the Iranian police, while from the border to Queeta I will be escorted by the Pakistani police. In total 724 km with the escort and then in theory enough.
Ok, in the meantime I concentrate on washing the wasp as I say, then I rest and then I leave alone for Yazd where I will spend the night tonight.

Dating “On The Road”

04 June 2022

I have had so many “On the Road” meetings in Iran, to the point that I don’t remember spending an evening alone, except this one in which I am writing to you.
Taking a trip alone is true, it is not for everyone, there are those who are comfortable and who would never do it. There is no right or wrong, there is what one feels inside.
Personally I appreciate both modes, even if, for a trip like this, I am much more inclined to adventure alone, which then has very little of solitaire.
In these scarce two weeks of Iran I have met many people, perhaps crazy, out of their minds, or simply people who act to make their dreams, their ambitions come true.
I’ll tell you some stories. In Esfahan, in addition to Aldo and Vera di Alveto Expedition whom I have already told you about https://www.youtube.com/c/AlvetoExpedition,
I have known:
Jm Lopez, a 61 year old Frenchman, recently retired, who is alone for 4 months visiting Iran, Georgia and Armenia. In July he returns and in the autumn he will do another 4 months in South America and so on.
Michael Müller is German, I don’t know exactly how old he is, very nice, but he’s no longer a kid. He too travels alone by motorbike for at least 50% of his time.
Michael Stummann Nielsen is Danish, also solo. In 2020 he did 42,000 km alone in Australia.
Heike Lupa, a German female biker who for four months stopped being a driving school teacher and is touring all the Balkan countries, including Georgia, Armenia and Iran, on her KTM690.
Federico Valeri, first found in Tehran and then met again in Yazd. Italian, who left in March with his Benelli 500 enduro, for a trip that will take him to Nepal, mainly on off-road routes. He is a great youtuber who can be followed on the #zerohighways channel
Cheyenne and Leo, two Belgian boys, he is 29 years old and she is 26 years old. They left Belgium a year ago, also went to Veneto, I met them last night in Yazd, where we had dinner with Federico and Heike. They have already traveled 15,000 km by bicycle, they want to get to India, then Bangladesh, Japan, the United States, etc. A three-year trip around the world.
https://instagram.com/the_ride_place_to_be?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=
The Turkish cyclists (husband, wife and friend) who are touring Iran by bike.
And again the girls from the hostels, in Esfahan and Tehran, always friendly and helpful with everyone.
The policemen who when they stop you and understand that you are Italian mention Baggio, Del Piero, Buffon, Totti and laugh in disbelief when I say that I left Italy with the Vespa.
The street people, ready to help you at any time, the one who sees you in trouble stops and asks you if you need.
Group breakfasts better than hostels.
Vespa Club friends
In short, in this solo trip there is only (and it is not a little) the real part of the guide, the one where in Iran you are often “in the middle of nowhere”, maybe a hundred kilometers, with desert to the right and left. , no petrol stations, no autogrill …, nothing.
And in those moments, while you are there alone driving waiting for the break between a full tank and the other (150 km), you think “come on baby, don’t betray me right now, please”

Last minute “On The Road” meetings

05 June 2022

I leave Yazd a little late, at 10.30, because before I chatted with Heike Lupa and Federico Valeri.
I have to do 370 km up to Keram, it is hot, but I am convinced, after all I could have left earlier.
I have a full iPartol so I decide to do a single 150km pull, by now I have learned to eat and drink while driving, even if you shouldn’t.
With only two stops I arrive in Keram and thanks to the crazy travelers app Ioverlander (which I’m starting to use), I find a hostel that inspires me.
7 €, breakfast included, the place is nice, the owner very kind as always, he shows me the room “beautiful, there are beds, so tonight you don’t sleep on the floor”. I glimpse the lock of hair of a sleeping girl between the blankets.
I unload all my things and throw myself on the bed without even taking off my jeans. In relaxation I decide to write the post on “On the Road meetings”, so much so that I am now leaving Iran so I can take stock of this experience from that point of view.
The lock of hair belongs to a brunette girl, really pretty, who in the meantime has dressed and is going out.
At 9.30 pm I fall into bed into a deep sleep until 7.00 am. “Perfect I think, I prepare the Vespa with the luggage, breakfast at 7.30 and I leave for 8.00, so I avoid at least part of yesterday’s heat”.
Vespa ready h. 7.30 breakfast, there are two tables, in one a boy, that of the backpack in the room not really for Sunday tour and in the other there is the girl. I choose the girl’s table, for no other reason, but she seems more sociable to me.
Masoomeh is Iranian, from Tehran, very passionate about sports, she is in Keram as a climbing instructor. Nice, we joke and laugh, Google Translator at full speed, she doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Persian.
He tells me, that the other boy has been here for two days and we have never talked, you, you have been here since last night and we are having breakfast together laughing. “” He is German, I am Italian, this is the difference “. .. And we laugh.
If you’re not in a hurry, he tells me, why don’t we go to the terrace to chat. “But noooooo, imagine if I’m in a hurry, I have nothing to do” and so we move to the terrace.
She shows me photos, including that of her boyfriend, I show her photos, including that of my dog ​​Astrid …, That I …
and we laugh.
I believe he does all action sports except pong and golf.
10.00 am, I have to pay 3,800,000 rials, which translates to “and what’s the problem” I say, it’s 12 € including dinner. I take out the money but it’s not enough, oh man. Dollars? No Euro? No.
Masoomeh comes in and adds the 300,000 rials I need to pay. A big.
She has to go, she has her students, I had to go two and a half hours before, we say goodbye, it was nice. Meanwhile, we laugh.
I go to the center of Keram to try to change money, I don’t even have the 70 cents I would need for a full tank. It’s a party, all closed, until I find the available granny who changes me 20 € for 6,000,000 rials, excellent.
Finally I leave for Bam, it is almost noon, it is very hot, but woe to complain, not even in thought.

https://instagram.com/masoomeh_rajabali?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Towards Pakistan

07 June 2022

In the afternoon I arrive in Bam and since it is early I decide to go and see the old city. I go out on foot but I can’t orient myself, I stop two guys on motorcycles, they don’t speak English and we can’t understand each other. I get on too (and there are three of us), we go around but nothing. Eventually one of the two understands, unloads his friend and takes me for 4 km, up to the entrance of the old city. I decide to thank him and reward him with 200 rials he doesn’t want, I insist, I try to put the money in his hand, nothing to do, he doesn’t want them. So we decide to take a picture together, in his poverty, really kind and hospitable.
The next morning I leave from Bam, a bit disappointed, especially for where I stopped to sleep. A place that was recommended to me by Mohammed and Nukio, but which is really bad, shabby, dirty, all neglected, really minimal meals, all for the absurd (for Iran) price of 20 USD.
Apart from that, 380 km are waiting for me to get to Zahedan, the last city before the border with Pakistan.
The first problem I have to solve is that of petrol. In Bam they told me that from there, up to the border with Pakistan, gasoline is sold only to the local population, with a card. It’s okay, what about me? With the Vespa that hardly reaches 200 km of autonomy. Confident of the now proverbial willingness of the Iranians, immediately after the city I stop at the first petrol station, ask whoever gets petrol and immediately find a person available to lend me his card, well, problem solved.
I continue, desert, only desert left and right. I do 150 km, go to the reserve and continue, I arrive at just under 200 km and as we wanted to demonstrate the Vespa goes out.
Ok, first of all I take off my clothes, then I put on a cap that I had prudently placed in the front trunk, then I eat and drink. Now I’m ready, I pour the petrol with the barrel bought in Esfahan, perfect, in a few minutes I can start again.
Upon arrival in Zahedan I hasten to contact Hamid, a customs representative who should be useful to me, I don’t know how, but an extra contact is better. I find sleep, worse than the night before … the standard is really getting a lot worse. Somehow I fit in and somehow I rest a little during the night.
Today is the big day, I try to go through customs and understand, from there, how it works. The question of the escort is not really clear to me.
I ran out of gas and yesterday at the only station I saw there was a kilometer-long thing.
Before leaving the city I start looking, but I’m hungry and I decide to buy bread. Here people wait for the bread, large oval focaccias, when it comes out of the oven and then puts it on metal grids waiting for it to cool down a bit. Then you see people, with two, four or even 10 mega focaccias, take them away, obviously without any wrapping. I buy one, 8 cents, laugh with the local people, wait for it to cool down a bit and eat a good piece, the rest will keep me company for the whole day.
Finally I find the distributor, it is in the opposite direction to mine, I continue until I find a point where I can turn around, but I see that even here there is an interminable queue of cars. I arrive at the petrol station and try to enter from the exit, some Iranians “ITALIA, VESPA, TOTTI, DEL PIERO, BUFFON” come to meet me, we start joking and petrol is done, for free, they didn’t want anything “for you is free”.
Finally I leave to make the 100 km towards the border, the wind begins to rise, it is hot but a sandstorm greatly reduces visibility and the wind requires a lot of attention when driving. I think of Walter De Noni, my mechanic who tells me “if there is a sandstorm be careful that it doesn’t go into the engine, you don’t have an oil sponge filter” … Oh yes, I understood this, but that do I? … I continue and luckily after a while the wind drops a lot.
I arrive at customs …, sand, heat, dilapidated buildings, people everywhere. I work my way through the various Turkish offices, thanks to Hamid’s help, and after about an hour I’m done. I would go to bed, but I have the Pakistani side, here I am alone. First check, then customs, then immigration office, then interview, then police and finally I’m inside, another two hours have passed.
At the entrance an official arrives who invites me to follow him and tells me where I will sleep (?). “Yes, sleep here and tomorrow we will escort you to Quetta, for 630 km”.
Even here all very dilapidated, dirty and sandy, the sand gets in everywhere. I remove all the luggage from the Vespa and after a while I realize that even inside, where I will sleep, they are filled with sand. I go out and at least cover the Vespa which in the meantime is also covered with sand.
I go to the bathroom, a fillet of water, I don’t even try a shower, I leave the surprise for later.
I already have a headache, I think I expect a busy night and an equally busy day tomorrow, but in the meantime I entered Pakistan and certainly the journey will continue from the day after tomorrow.