We arrived just after lunch and then Gill and I had to split up. Both our stories are very valuable and definitely should be heard so we'll split this next little bit up...
Gill:
The girls were taken aside and we were informed of the attire that we had to wear in Iran. Apparently we had to make sure that our 'wanting area' (our torso mainly boobs and bums) was loosely covered to reveal as little as possible, so we would be the ones 'wanting' not being 'wanted'-great! After cramming all the girls into a mini bus we headed into town.
Its a strange town and adding Ramadam into the picture it meant that nothing really was happening. There were men playing games, smoking and sat discussing the world on the streets (working hard!), there were very few women to be seen, so we attracted a lot of attention.
We headed into a tailors who was overwhelmed by having 20 odd women descend on his shop. Once we had described what we wanted (basically black sacks with trousers) we were escorted to another tailors who could give 'a good price'-but the prospect of money went to his head and he was going to charge a fortune. So we headed into the shops. Finding suitable clothes was a lot harder than it sounds. Anytime anything was found the flock descended upon it and it was the lucky few whose boobs and bum fitted who succeeded with purchasing the clothes. Things were starting to get a little stressful, especially after trying to explain to the Turkish shop assistant what we were looking for, we thought the international sign language had worked well until we ended up in a lingerie shop! Definitely not what we were looking for.
As we were resigning to the fact that we may not find anything today we found them. They were hanging up in the back of a random clothes, in no less then 4 colours and 3 sizes. The curtains! These beautiful tents were long, had long sleeves and covered all appropriate areas by miles-perfect! The fact that we looked utterly ridiculous was beside the point. The shop assistants were massively bemused and could not contain their laughter. They'd probably been waiting for years to sell these beauties and to sell 5 at once-unbelievable!
As you can imagine I couldn't wait to show Alex my purchase! I was guessing that he'd be well pleased that his wife donned in curtains in Iran would have to walk behind him, not beside so he wasn't overwhelmed by the pattern!
Alex:
***Apologies for this but I want to give a true account and this is what travelling can be like so those of a squeamish disposition should skip this little bit.***
Note: this is the censored version that Gill has reluctantly passed.
If you are still reading this bit then you are either not squeamish or just a little intrigued as to what will follow. So anyway, I was having a lovely afternoon playing cards with some of the others on the balcony overlooking the striking landscape and snooping in on the documentary that was being filmed at the same time. All good so far. I had the urge and had to pop to the loo. I was down on the squat and did my business. It was on the softer side of normal but still within acceptable limits. So I went back to playing cards. About 30 mins later, I had a bit of a stomach cramp and knew I had to get back to the squat and fast!
What came next was something you can only experience and not really describe (but I won't spare you and I'll try anyway!). Imagine you are sitting down for your Sunday roast and you say to yourself, "overcooked the beef, I think it needs a little gravy!" And as you reach for the jug and pour out the gravy onto your meal - it looked just like that! But not a thick gravy with onions etc in. A very thin gravy, or brown water if you'd prefer. So anyway, I thought I had finished, so I shifted over to the side to survey the damage and as I moved, I obviously dislodged more. And then came more diarrhoea gushing out and covering my white flip flop and ankle. Bad times. So I cleaned myself and the squat up and thought I should probably go and have a bit of a relax in the tent. After 20 mins or so, Gill came back after her shopping trip and started to show me what she had bought. I peered through bleary eyes and caught sight of her costume. I'm not sure what caused the next bit, either the sight of her curtains or the movement, but I had to run to the bush and vomited up everything I had eaten in the past day. Not sure how many of you have ever thrown up so much that it's coming out of your mouth and your nose at the same time, but it really burns your nostrils. Added to this, was the fact I had just moved quickly so now my bowels were getting excited and wanted to join in the party too!
Needless to say, for the rest of the evening, I felt very sorry for myself and, with regular trips to either the toilet or the bush, I made it through the night.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Doggy biscuit is a boarder town between Turkey and Iran in the foothills of Mount Ararat, the place where Noah is said to have landed his ark after the flood. The campsite itself was in a beautiful location half way up the mountainside overlooking the town and situated just under a palace. It was great. Well it WAS about 30 years ago. Since then, the place had been given very little TLC. There were dodgems, although only 2 worked. There was a banana-boat ride, although it certainly hadn't been safety checked in a very long time. There was a spring water swimming pool, if you cleared out all the rubbish. And there were toilets and showers, if you could see in the dark and didn't mind poo on the floor or the icy water. All in all, lovely. The best bit, was the view and the hope that tomorrow we will be Iran!
Written on 26/7/13.
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