First days in Iran

Another border crossing after 5 days in Turkmenistan!
You never know what to expect, but this time I more or less flew through the borders. All up 1hour 15mins. It helped to have a personal assistant on the Iranian side, who wandered with me from station to station, making sure everything is done promptly and serving me some tea when waiting for my Carnet to be completed.
When driving on a dirt path, looking for my first Iranian overnight spot, it got too slippery and muddy for my liking. As the path was very narrow I had to perform a 10-point turn. In the process I backed into I pile of dirt, bent my spare tyre attachment, so the spare wheel fell off could not be reattached. Ah well, another workshop stop the next day. No biggy, was done in 1/2 hour. This left me with enough time to reach Mashhad.
Mashhad is considered the holiest city in Iran, is it the burial place of the only of the 12 Imams being buried in Iran. So of course I had to visit the shrine, which nowadays is a huge complex with 9!!! court yards. Should you be interested, you can read up on this. So no need for me to elaborate. Being a non-Muslim I was provided with a flowery chador, oh how charming! and very nice guide. I was really impressed by the relaxed atmosphere in those court yards: people sitting and lying on the floors, that are covered in carpets, kids running around playing, a situation you cannot imagine in a Christian church. The guards were very diligent: each of them equipped with a feather duster of all things, pink or baby blue of color. A few times they had to run towards or after me, pointing those pink dusters at my bloomy chador from under which some wisps of unruly hair had escaped; I diligently tucked them back in.
After this sight seeing tour I just wanted to leave the city.
And now I was finally confronted with Iranian traffic. From my last visit to Iran I knew it can be chaotic to say the least! Three million inhabitants, and a huge percentage of those possessed by Iranian road rage. This is a phenomenon which I cannot explain. The Iranians are the most friendly, welcoming, hospitable of people. They give you their last piece of bread if you are their guest, but their little piece of road, your right of way... YOU WILL NOT GET THIS, Not even as a clearly identifiable foreigner. So. .. lets get me out of this city!
And, as to make up for this strenuous city experience, I found the most beautiful overnight spot, on Saffron fields, between little saffron huts and saffron watering channels. Never mind a police man waking me up at 5am, wanting to see my papers and husband, who, to his biggest amazement, I could not produce. The husband I mean. But instead he was confronted by a dog!!! But what was probably even more confusing and shaking up his social norms was this woman in the van only clad in a pyjama. Just as well that I had remembered to quickly throw over my shawl at the knock on my window. He did not speak any English, my Farsi leaves a big lot to be desired, so we giggled ourselves through the conversation. I still giggled when I went back to sleep.
On the way to Kerman, I happened to overtake Christoph again; we had separated in Turkmenistan, but as we don't seem to be able to travel by ourselves we did some sight seeing together: a beautiful Caravanserai and we nearly drove past an oasis like out of a fairy-tale book. I was nestled on top of a hill surrounded be citrus orchards and soon saffron fields again.Læs mere