Golden reunions

We made it to India - a fairly deep sigh of relief was let out by all of us, trip organisers and we could even hear it from our parents back home.

Simple-ish boarder crossing (apart from the grumpy Indian officials who made us take everything out of the truck) and we went 30 kms down the road to Amritsar.

We pulled into our accommodation for the next 3 nights. An old Raj age, red-brick building with vines crawling up it. A central kitchen called commando bridge and peripheral stables and workshops. There was even a swimming pool.

And there it happened, we saw them. 15 illusive figures: the Indian contingent. Those unfortunate soles who didn't get to experience Pakistan but went for it by themselves in Goa and Mumbai. Even though it had only been 2 weeks, it seemed like ages since we saw them! Anyway good to see them and we were reunited.

In Amritsar, there are only a couple of things to do really. One is the Golden Temple and the other, the boarder crossing closing ceremony.

But before we did either of these, we went to a really peculiar place. We think it was a Hindu temple but the builders many have been watching too much fun house on TV. It was a crazy maze of staircases, crawling and climbing obstacles, mirrors, dark tunnels and water jumps. Not to mention brightly coloured idols with elephant heads and numerous limbs. And throngs of locals kissing the floor and throwing money at the plastic models. Definitely a weird place. So we moved swiftly on.

Onto the Wagha boarder, where just before sunset every day, the officials of Pakistan and India face off against each other in an adrenaline fuelled, high kicking duel to prove who is the better country (GB!). In the warm up, a few selected locals carry the Indian flag up and down, parading it before the thousands watching. It is a very prestigious privilege. So Sean, one of our fellow travellers, and I thought we would go for it. After initially getting turned down by one guard as it is only for Indian women and children, we asked another and he gave us a flag! So we ran and waved our flag furiously with great glee as the frustrated guards tried to keep us from stopping. All very exciting. Then Gill and a few of the other girls took part in a women's only street party which was a sweaty mix of banghra meets western while the Indian men oggled from the stands.

Then the real stuff began, a long shout from one officer made a couple frog march the length of the parade before screaming , kicking legs as high as possible and performing a modified haka. Numerous others speed marched to join them and carry out other deeds including staring contests and the-wafer-in-my-head-is-taller-than-your-wafer-competition. All before both sides claim they win and slam the gates shut. All this goes on while the MC is whipping the crowd into a verbal frenzy! Really interesting to watch though.

Next we went off to the Golden Temple. This is Mecca for Sikhs. The holiest of holies on earth. When we first saw it, it was mid evening and its golden glow glittering across the moat as thousands of Sikhs kissed the marble steps. It looks fairly amazing and it's very impressive in the day too - we came back for some more of the action the following afternoon. In fact, we were feeling particularly smug with ourselves as we negated the need to have to give our shoes in as we put them in my bag. In my haste to sit and chow down on some of their delicious food they give away, the zip hadn't closed properly and the end was poking out a little. This did not go unnoticed by the security guards and we were frog marched out of the temple and surrounding area and dumped out on the street where we and our shoes belong! Bad times, good thing we aren't Sikhs as that would probably go down as quite a serious black mark against our names...

So we wandered around the streets a bit more then headed back to our Raj estate. We had been back for no longer that 30 seconds when disaster struck - one of our fellow truck mates had a fairly serious incident and it transpired that I and Erlinda, a nurse, had to take him to the nearest hospital. Everything turned out absolutely fine and they were totally OK in the end after an overnight stay. But it did give me a bit of time to have a snoop around an A&E dept in India. There were 4 beds crammed into a tiny room, the free one for us had a large dry blood stain in the middle, so after a bit of persuasion, we managed to get clean sheets! Everything just seemed a bit to haphazard and the pharmacy was in a worse state than my bedroom in the pre-Gill years. My favourite thing was the call bell. There was no cord so it was just a button and the best bit was that it was the other side of the room so if you were bed bound for any reason, even if it's just you are on a drip, you have absolutely no hope of getting anyone's attention! Hope it's not serious...

Anyway, off to Delhi, where, hopefully, no Delhi belly awaits. We shall see.

The great escape

We had been warned several times by locals of the dangers of the road to Lahore from Quetta, so with the police reluctantly agreeing, we changed our course, to travel south and then follow the Indian boarder up to Lahore which was a route less trodden and much safer, but a lot longer.

So the next few days were fairly uneventful, stopping in places called Sukkur and Multan overnight. Other than stopping in this little village in the middle of nowhere. We stopped on a toilet break and were greeted by a wall of about 100 people, not uttering a word, just staring at us. So we went and had a laboured chat. The police told us after that these people had never actually seen white people before, only in pictures, so they were all very interested to meet us. They did seem very nice but soon we were on our way again. And it was the same old story and we were secured inside the hotel under armed guard and obstructed not to leave. This was starting to get a bit tedious now so the some of the group tried to make a sneaky escape but our attempts were thwarted.

In other news, it was now a lot cooler dipping to high forties and our Welsh biker Ben that had been hijacking our convoy departed us in Multan.

So another drive day, Lahore bound! As we left Multan, the police hadn't organised their convoy at for the pre-agreed time so we left without them and they didn't bother to catch us up! So we had a free ride to Lahore, making as many toilet and drink stops as we liked!

As we had a delay back in our posh hotel in Quetta, it had eaten into our time in Lahore to it meant we only had one afternoon and evening. And with no police, we could go and explore!

Despite monsoon rain cutting through the rising humidity, we took our life into our hands as we ventured on tuktuk through the city traffic. A chaotic lawlessness ensued and we tried to squeeze through impossible gaps and avoid swerving others whilst an unrelenting barrage of horns and sirens blared.

We visited the old fort and mosque that dominate Lahore's skyline. We ate delicious samosas and ran away from hungry rats. We watched cricket and were treated as celebrities. Turns out that in Lahore, there aren't many white people either, especially ones silly enough to venture out in the heavy rain showers. We were pestered by people wanting to say hello, shake our hands, take pictures of us, have their photo taken with us, have their photo taken by us or just stop and stare at us. Whatever their reaction, most of it was harmless enough but we have both decided against become A-list celebrities.

Before we left, a couple at Gill's parents church in NI said they were going to be in Lahore some point in August to start their 6 months lecturing maths at a Christian College. So with their address scribbled on a scrap of paper and no idea where it was in the city or even if they had even arrived yet, we blindly got in another tuktuk and ventured into the unknown. Turns out, that is was about 8kms out of the city and took about 30 mins constant driving from our hotel. Problem was, our driver and most other people he found, had no clue where it was. Our driver spoken little English and at one point just handed us a phone and we were asked by a crackly voice on the other end where we were actually going. This was about 20 minutes into the journey.

After more garbled directions from other drivers and a helpful local hitch hiker, we made it to the complex, well after nightfall. We were greeted by a team of security asking us lots of questions, to most of which we had no answers. We didn't know exactly where they lived in the complex, their phone number or if they were even in the country. All we really knew was that they weren't expecting us. Good.

Eventually we made it to their house. We saw them, said our hellos and then paid and thanked our tuktuk driver and said goodbye to him. Only he didn't leave! He decided that after coming all this way he was definitely going to be the one to take us back aga so in he promptly came in and sat down on the sofa. So all of has had tea and toast and then we caught up with Ron and Hillary while the driver phoned his friends and slept on the sofa. After a lovely evening, we woke our chauffeur up and headed back, a much more direct route, to our fairly grim hostel.

I know, I cut the top of my head off...

Lahore is actually a pretty cool place. A chaotic metropolis that is definitely worth a visit if you are in the area. And most Pakistanis and very friendly too. Just try to make sure that all the embassies aren't evacuated the day before you arrive, tends to make you a little nervy.

Anyway, off to India - we made it!!

Keep on trucking..... for Quetta or worse

After leaving that delightful hotel, we headed , under armed escort of course, to the provincial capital of Baluchistan, Quetta. Before we had even arrived, everyone knew what was coming. Quetta is a city that is controlled by tribes and houses many Taliban leaders. Although there is a heavy presence from the army, there are regular bombings, assassinations and kidnappings. In fact, in the previous week, there had been 3 bombs killing over 50 people in total.

With this is mind, we were hoping to be as subtle as possible but delays from checkpoints, and because the police lead us the wrong way to the hotel and then promptly abandoned us in the suburbs, we arrived at nightfall. As we tried to get into the centre of town, the police stopped us on a main roundabout and refused to let us through claiming that any foreign vehicle is a potential terrorist target. So we stayed there. On that roundabout, our large orange truck containing 25 targets remained causing mayhem for about 90 minutes while our leaders negotiated with the police.

Subtle.

In the end, the only hotel we could get into that was secure enough was a 5* posh place. And so there we stayed. For 4 nights we were there - living the dream. Except for the fact that we were still held under armed guard and not allowed to leave the hotel. During the time we were there, there was a bombing killing 2 motorcyclists, a couple of petrol bombs and Pakistan's national independence day, that involved lots of driving fast up and down the road whilst shouting at the top of your voice and waving the Pakistani flag as frantically as you can! Interesting to see from our roof top vantage point safely inside the hotel walls.

It turns out that not being allowed to go to our original hotel and not being able to get the road permit to go beyond Quetta was quite a nice blessing really. The hotel was fitted out with queen size beds, satellite TV with lots of films, a swimming pool, gym, squash courts and the most amazing food! Unfortunately for Gill, the pool, gym and other facilities had a women's only time which was 9-12 (or lie in and then late breakfast o'clock if you prefer) and then the men get it for the rest of the day. Brilliant!

So that is what our days were made up of while we relaxed in our luxury! But on the 5th day,we had our permit and had to leave. So it was goodbye lie-ins and comfort and hello again to long dive days on the truck and early mornings.

Pakistani prisoners

After surviving the night, we picked up an armed police escort (who still had our passports) and we headed for the Pakistani boarder.

Nobody wanted the responsibility of a truck load of tourists on their patch so lots of different escorts picked us up, dropped us off and swapped between themselves.

It was more of the same of stopping, which seemed like every 5 minutes to check our passports. We managed to get through the police check, where our further travel had been refused the day before. (I think they were just worried that we might all get out of the truck again or start making tea). Needless to say that check point was pretty prompt.

The boarder crossing itself was fairly slow and uneventful but there was cold water! In the heat, we are now drinking in excess of 5 litres per day just to stop us shriveling up! The only other highlight was the furious haggling battle with the money changers in no-mans land in the middle.

On the other side, after sharing our passport details with 4 different sets of officials within the space of 100 metres of each other, we were escorted to a police compound where we were forced to stay the night.

Afghanistan was only a few kms away and there was real tension.

We drove through a town that was nearly entirely deserted and was war torn and there were signs of some serious damage. The compound was behind steel reinforced concrete walls and there was at least 1 armed officer on guard at all times. There was even a patrol car with mounted machine guns on top (that we managed to bag a picture with!).

The local shop was 50 metres away from the compound but was so derelict looking. Apparently this was because of the hostility from Taliban forces, places were meant to hide their identity.

Another very hot night followed and then, just before sunrise, our convoy set off with the goal to get as far through Baluchistan as possible. We have managed to pick someone else called Ben up en route. He has joined our escort and is on a motorbike doing a very similar route to us from Wales to Oz over 10 months but just fancied a bit of protection over the next few weeks.

This is the first real time we have felt anxious about our safety. With an armed guard escorting us, it does help but does allow your mind to wander as to why they are so cautious in this particular area.

Just before lunch we arrived in a "dodgy town just a few kms south of the Afghan boarder" and the police refused to take us any further. So we were ordered to stay inside the hotel, stay away from the windows and try not to get noticed! This hotel was a funny old place but it did have showers and air con. Well it did have air con while there was electricity. The electricity probably worked for little over 1 hour the whole afternoon, overnight and the following morning.

So the evening was spent sat either in the hotel or in the secluded courtyard round the back. In the evening, with head torches in situ, we sat in relative darkness. Occasional firecrackers went off and there was a following silence as everyone contemplated what may just be a few streets away from us.

And because of the lack of electricity, and the subsequent lack of air con, it meant another roasting night interspersed with regular showers.

We should've flown to Goa for a week by the beach...

Deserted in the middle of nowhere....

On the way to the boarder we were due to have a couple of bush camps, and bearing in mind it is now 41 degrees in the shade, no one was looking forward to it!

We were driving through the desert and out of nowhere about to start looking for a camp site, there was a flash flood. Not even joking, the roads were turning to rivers!

So the next town we found, we managed to find a hotel. Great news, or so we thought!

The hotel was in a town called Bam and unfortunately some 10 years ago there was a major earthquake that killed thousands of people and flattened most of the place. One key tourist attraction was damaged but they have rebuilt sections of this ancient city.

Parts of the town had been rebuilt but I'm not sure how it really affected the hotel. We got to our room and we don't think anyone has used that room since the earthquake. There was a layer of dust everywhere but that's to be expected in a hotel in the middle of the desert that regularly probably only has 2-3 guests at a time. So when 25 people descended, they thought they had won the lottery.

Gill needed the loo and was presently surprised with the label that said "cleaned especially for you". So moved that, opened the lid and wow. Just look at the photo.

On further inspection, there was a dead cockroach in the bath and brown water coming out of every tap. On the brought side, at least there was no bush camping!

Later that evening,  we were all sitting down for a nice meal when, at one end of the table, there was a sky-splitting-scream and Linda jumped out of her seat. This was following by a Mexican wave of people jumping up and squeaking. There, running across the table, was a ginormus cockroach! So once the waiter had kicked it across the room, we were all able to get on with our food.

Later that evening, we gatecrashed an Iranian wedding.

The men and women were split up and in the men's side, the groom was taking turns to suit on everyone shoulders and get thrown up in the air while people throw fistfuls of money at him. All fun and frolics until Jay tried to take a photo and then there was a scrum to wrestle the camera off him and the security guard had to break it up. We thought we had probably outstayed or welcome so we quickly left!

The next day, temperatures broke 50 degrees and were all getting very hot and bothered. We were driving to the boarder and kept getting stopped every few kms by police or army checks. The worst bit was that none of them spoke to each other. They all wanted the same info and to see our passports. So we obliged every time, until, after waiting at one particular roadblock for over 3 hours, we were told to go and make a nuisance of ourselves so they got irritated enough to let us through. This was in the middle of the desert and on a very narrow road. So all 25 of us got out and went and started pestering the armed guards for water, or the toilet and just saying it was too hot to be sat in the truck. Then Karen got the gas out and started boiling the kettle of the side of the road to make a cup of tea for people!

They got very grumpy at all of this so refused to let us through and forced us under escort and holding our passports hostage, back to the nearest town for the night. Although irritating, it did mean we missed out on another bush camp and got to stay in a hotel. This all sounded great except that our air con broke during the night and we nearly died of heat exhaustion. I had to get up and have two cold showers during the night to keep me sane.

On the bright side, at least there were no cockroaches!

Written on 10/8/13

Our Iranian dreams...

When you imagine Iran, what comes to mind? Take a moment to think.

What about the people? The terrain? Culture? Food? What about safety?

Before I came into Iran, I imagined a baron desert with little mud huts and grumpy people eating goat stew and avoiding bombs and firefights in the streets.

Rubbish.

Well partly rubbish. There are deserts but there are also lush rainforests, mountains and lakes. There are cloud shrouded hills and remains of impressive Persian cities and fortifications that must have been amazing and daunting 2,500 years ago. They are fairly awesome now! The people are among the friendliest we have ever met on the planet. There is nothing too big or small you can ask of them and they wish for nothing in return. They eat delicious food ranging from chicken kebabs, camel steaks and as many cakes and sweets you can eat. No goat stew in sight. The parts of Iran we have been to are the safest places you could imagine. We have been freely walking around at night in city suburbs or wandering through villages that have rarely seen westerners. The most hostile experiences we have had is being stared at because we aren't Iranian, me getting shooed away as I tried to walk into a women's only mosque and a creepy man trying to steal a kiss from Gill!

So now that we have dispelled all your pre-conceptions, we can start telling you all about it.

Masuleh is a multi-tiered town on a mountain side and was our first major stop. We stayed there for 3 nights and experienced a frenzy of clothes buying as all the women on the trip sought to expand their wardrobes and get something more "fashionable". We went hiking up in the mountains into the cloud layer and through ferns that were taller than all of us.

We stayed in apartments, crammed onto the floor, but there were clean toilets and a fridge and even a flat screen TV. As our Farsi isn't great, the TV wasn't much use until someone very clever discovered something. They worked out that an external hard drive could be plugged in and ran through it, and therefore we had a near limitless supply of films. So we made chocolate banana pancakes and had a movie night. It was brilliant. Sprawled out over the chairs, sofa and floor, we watched a whole evenings worth of films.

The morning after our film bonanza, and just before we set off on a drive day, we awoke to an awful smell. Somehow, overnight, our hot water generator had malfunctioned and leaked liquid diesel all over the floor. We couldn't open the windows and doors fast enough. The smell burnt our nostrils and stunk out our clothes. I got some on my pillow so had to spend the rest of the drive day holding it out the window to power blast the smell out. In hindsight, we were properly lucky that the whole place didn't set alight. But anyway, a slightly bittersweet departure from Masuleh!

Our next main place to go was the city of Esfahan. Staying in a hostel that hadn't been updated in years, this is when we really started to get a taste of the real Iran. Our digs were beds crammed into a room with 1 communal toilet and shower for each sex.

Accommodation apart, the city in amazing. Our first night started with pizza that outwardly, despite which flavour you ordered, looked the same as all the others but was packed full of filling and tasted delicious. The city is home to an amazing bazaar, magnificent mosques and ornate bridges. The square is the second biggest in the world behind Tian'anmen Square in China. We went to the old palace and explored the music room that was decorated in a hollowed out plaster design. The mosques were huge and were over-the-top ornate with every inch on wall and ceiling covered. You could stand in the centre of the dome and if you made even the tiniest noise, it would be amplified and reverberate around the whole building. We walked the bridges, ate on rooftop restaurants and even went to shaking minarets where if one is shaken, the other one does too, all by itself. But apparently 6 months ago, they stopped. Shaking them so now they are just plain minarets just like all the others. Needless to say, this was a bit rubbish so we didn't bother paying to get in and see them. So we went to the grand bazaar instead. As we walked the maze of potters and carpet sellers, a local started to chat with us. He gave us a tour of the tunnels and took us up onto the roof and to the locals area. He showed us how the traditional Esfahan carpets are printed and then said goodbye and wished us a good time in Iran. No money or payment was uttered, he just did it out of the kindness of his heart.

Later that evening, we sat down and ate curry on carpets on the square with two students who wanted to practice their English called David and Mustufa. They told us all about the peoples beliefs versus the government. There were signs saying "down with Israel" and "down with USA" and pictures of burning american flags. Apparently, no local thinks this. It is a propaganda campaign by the government but no local we met had any radical views. Everyone was so excited at the prospect of change as that day, the new "reasonably moderate" president took charge with promises to improve relations with the rest of the world and stop censorship (which is the reason it has been ages since we last updated our blog, went on BBC, Facebook or even Google!).

Next we visited what was the biggest city in Persia, Persepolis. Persepolis is a mass of columns and palaces and a Petra-style temple built into a rock face. The intricate detail was still visible 2,500 years since the city was sacked and deserted. This place made it easy to imagine how formidable the Persians were. But by now, the heat was starting to rise. 40 degrees by day and 30 degrees by night and our full length clothing and Gill's headscarf it was starting to get unbearable.

After the city, we went to the old town of Yazd. This is reportedly the oldest city with the world and has apparently been inhabited continuously for the previous 7,000 years. This was a place with more mosques and situated around a labyrinth of streets and deserted markets. But the best bit, air con. Not true air con, but coolish air in our room. We ate amazing food like beef stew in pomegranate and walnut sauce, aubergine casserole and birthday cake! Gill had her birthday while we were in Yazd so we had a tea party with lots and lots of cakes. Possibly the sweetest thing I have ever tasted and enough e-numbers to keep everyone bouncing off the walls for the rest of the day!

The next morning, our group split. We lost about 15 people to Goa as either they didn't get their Pakistani visa or just didn't fancy it. Karen and Will have been telling us all the horror stories of how we are going to be camping in corrupted police compounds as we dash through Baluchistan. Oh well no turning back now as off towards the boarder we go!

Written on 9/8/13