Maḩalleh-ye Maqşūdīyeh

after a couple minutes of driving, we were allowed to take our blindfolds off to see the city. it was almost midnight when we got to the hotel. the police guys talked to the receptionist, took us to our room, then left me and stepan behind.

we were both massively relieved, laughing the whole time. first came a big fat hug, then a big fat shower, then a big fat sleep. but with our phones still taken, even now, there was no way to contact our families. after all, we didn't know if they had even noticed or if the KSK was about to kick down the hotel door.

the next day, we went to the hotel owner, hamid, to resolve this problem. he was the best thing we could've hoped for and helped us so much over the next couple of days. although we couldn't use anyones instagram or whatsapp because of government monitoring, he took us to an internet café, where we could send no more than one e-mail, so stepan wrote to his mom.

hamid also took us to the black market for money exchange and got us some food (which isn't that easy during daytime in ramadan). turns out he is an absolute boss in tabriz and owns different stores, as well as the hotel there.

while walking through the city, an elderly man enthusiastically waved us into his sewing shop. his name was mister ali, and he collected foreigners signatures and entries in his books. we were number 2000-something. he was the sweetest, most hospitable guy ever and (together with hamid) precisely what we needed now to make up for the not so hospitable days before. someone even made him a google maps page - just look up ali's shop tabriz :)

hamid also took us to see the bazaar along with some other famous places in tabriz, but for obvious reasons i don't have many pictures of those.

although we were now out, life still wasn't all peaches and cream, but at least we had windows and paper + pens to keep us entertained (we almost never went out together, fearing that we might miss the police coming back with our belongings). i'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

after days of waiting, we finally got the message that the police was about to come back. we were placed in a car again and blindfolded, but this time the policemen made clear that there was no trouble. stepan and me sat in an office room for another hour or so filling out the final documents, before finally getting everything except stepans drone back.

the very next day, we wasted no time and took a bus straight to tehran, but not before revisiting mister ali in his shop and getting him to sew on the flag patches for georgia, armenia and iran onto my backpack.Read more