We're now used to a lot in terms of roads, so nothing can unsettle us.
No idea what we expected from Iran regarding road conditions, but certainly not these wonderful highways leading us now towards the south. Roads without holes, without cross gullies, without gravel and stones. Just wonderfully perfect roads on which you drive like on a duvet. So almost European standard.
We say goodbye to our friends at the Highway Police, they wave with almost moist eyes. Monika may have played a role in this.
So now Tabriz, the first major city in Iran, today's destination.
However, it turns out that at the end of this day, secretly feared but surprising in extent, we are definitely screwed.
The engine no longer wants to drive on
Well, we're not entirely surprised by the calamity, we saw it coming. The engine that last days despite Tahir pass has done its job seems to have finally had enough.
It's making noises today that sound anything but encouraging (and we knew it might happen).
Somehow we make it towards Tabriz, but just before the city, the noise becomes a constant reminder that faith and hope no longer work. Of course, the oil indicator light has been coming on from time to time, and the oil consumption has actually increased from day to day. Something may have broken?
Perhaps we have pushed our luck too far. The idea of being stranded somewhere in the Tahir mountains with a broken engine causes cold shivers in retrospect. But it seems that, despite everything, we have been lucky again.
We somehow reach our destination with a rattling engine and first look for the campsite, which we find after a few detours. At that time, the city is not yet as big as it is today, but you can still get lost.
The shocking realization
A native guy at the campground, whose English vocabulary is mainly limited to "okay", leads us to a nearby repair shop. We just want to have the starter repaired in the first place, which has provided us with a few funny encounters, but sometimes also cursing and swearing on my part. If the people at the shop can explain or solve the noise in the engine as well, it' s fine with us.
You have to let it melt on your tongue: although it should have been obvious long ago that the engine is in very poor condition, we visit a repair shop to fix just the starter motor. So is it any wonder that people ask how we idiots are ever going to make it to India and back?
Anyway, the workshop turns out to be a backyard, enclosed by a high wall, crammed with all kinds of vehicles and wrecked cars. The first impression is not very encouraging, our idea of a serious, professional provider of repair services looks somehow different.
However, we have no choice.
At least the guys seem to know their business, even if it's not obvious at first glance. We stand around with somewhat embarrassed expressions on our faces, trying to understand what is going on, while we are observed by the men with curiosity and derision. This is now already the third time after Italy and Greece that we feel like the ultimate dumbasses. Which is true, of course.
The boss personally takes care of his foreign guests. The car is driven over a pit from where one has access to the bottom (there are no modern lifts here). The starter motor is quickly repaired, but then, as the boss starts the engine, his expression becomes distorted. Something - the sound? Taktaktak - seems to irritate him. After restarting the engine several times, he shakes his head.
"No good?" I ask. "No good!" he confirms. "Motor nix good!" These few words roughly contain his knowledge of English, but we understand him only too well.
Everything broken
Of course, it requires a more in-depth explanation why the engine is nix good and what has to be done now. The boss leads us to a nearby school for car mechanics. The two chiefs have been trained in Germany and speak German.
They now deliver the terrible news to us. Due to the permanent loss of oil, the connecting rod bearings have broken, possibly also the crankshaft and probably some other things. They gently tell us (probably to sweeten the bad with something good) that it is a miracle that we have come this far with this defective engine.
The next questions are evident. How much does the fun cost and how long will it take before we can travel on.
Both answers are not really uplifting. Costs roughly 20'000 to 30'000 Rials, i.e. 1'000 to 1'200 Swiss Francs. The time needed for the repair cannot yet be estimated, but we should reckon with 4-5 days.
After the shock has subsided somewhat and our pale faces have regained their normal color, we park our car in the aforementioned backyard. Half an hour later, the engine is lying in the dust. At this moment we are convinced that this car will hardly ever drive on Indian territory.
But what the heck, now our particular ability comes into play, that we can adjust to a new situation in a flash (which, by the way, has always provided me with unexpected advantages in later life). So we set ourselves up for a few days of forced vacation and first look for a suitable hotel.
And by the way, not until later it becomes clear that we have made one or two mistakes, the fatal consequences of which we will painfully feel during the next few days. But at the moment we are quite satisfied, enjoying the city and the evening.
Ramadan and hunger
The hotel "Ramsar" on Pahlevi Avenue may seem cheap by European standards, but if you consider comfort, services and everything else that defines a good hotel in the evaluation, things look a little different.
In short - our accommodation is a sleazy dump with sleazy furniture, sleazy doorways and sleazy staff.
Perfect to spend our forced vacation. Sometimes it's an advantage if your own standards aren't particularly high.
Tabriz – Entrance to the Orient
At first glance, everyday life in Persia does not provide many surprises. The traffic rushes by on wide and well-laid-out streets, just as it does in our country. Hustle and bustle everywhere, especially when you leave the main streets and venture into the alleys behind and are catapulted back in time.
You think you've landed in a different world, in a different time. Could it be 18th or 19th century Europe? That's how we imagine it: narrow streets that seem to lead nowhere. Dirty children playing in dark backyards, eyeing us curiously and suspiciously at the same time. I suspect that we will encounter this impression more often.
And once again, I am quoting from a work of fiction that will be created decades later:
Jaco led her down the sloping alley to the district that its inhabitants ironically but aptly called the Hole, a maze in which you lose all sense of orientation after a short time. Twisting alleys take you into the middle of an impenetrable labyrinth, and sooner or later you get lost in backyards, dead ends, and enchanted squares.[A Snake in the Darkness]
In the midst of crowded general stores where a lot of indefinable stuff is offered, in the middle of gloomy craftsmen's stalls where people hustle, hammer, saw and screw, we also expect small bars where the craftsmen spend their well-deserved break and exchange the latest gossip over a chat. Or normal restaurants or hotels, the necessary completion off of the offer.
But nothing like that.
You have to make an effort and search until you accidentally discover a suitable establishment, coyly hidden in a corner of the district.
But it's closed. It takes some time before we understand the reason.
Ramadan
Of course it's RamadanThe annual fasting period of the Muslims, this year from September 17th to October 16th. During the day, i.e. at the beginning of the fast in the early morning until the evening, eating, drinking and smoking is prohibited. Accordingly, all restaurants are closed. Oops - we really should have known that.
I refer to a post where another day in Ramadan is described.
In reality, this means that we have to cook and eat in our VW bus, now looking very damaged, in the midst of hollowed-out car wrecks. It smells of old lubricating oil, of burnt rubber, of dust and dirt and all sorts of indefinable things.
On the other hand, it offers the opportunity to watch the busy laborers in their daily toil. One has to imagine that there were no tools, no apparatuses, no electronic devices as they are common today. Everything had to be done manually, everything was manual labor.
After all, this gives us the opportunity to observe the repair of our car. The boss shows us the damaged connecting rod bearings, the damaged crankshaft, but apart from a nod of agreement I can't contribute much. We can only hope that the guys know their craft. The only pity is that we can't talk with each other. English is definitely not one of their communicative offerings.
However, given the current uncertain situation with our VW bus and the possible consequences if the repair should fail, we are discussing a Plan B. We think about continuing our journey by public transport, buses, trains, maybe a ride on a truck. Something will come up.
Everything still very vague, but with a certain disturbing probability.
Friday – or rather Sunday?
As mentioned before, sometimes you overlook something or forget about it, or you're just too stupid to realize what it means. In any case, for us today is Friday, which is normal in the western world, but, as we quickly discover, not in the Islamic world.
It's not Friday here, it's Sunday.
The restaurants are closed.
The shops are closed.
Access to the car repair shop and thus to our bus is closed.
All in all – we are sitting on the street, so to speak.
Apart from a rather hard piece of bread and about a kilo of hazelnuts from Turkey, we have nothing to eat.
But at least the weather is perfect. Blue and hot with a touch of moisture. The sweat runs unintentionally from our foreheads while strolling through the streets and alleys of our temporary home, chewing hazelnuts.
Actually quite okay, if the sound of our growling stomachs didn't set the counterpoint to the general feeling of well-being.
The city corresponds to the idea you might have of a city in the Orient, but then again not. There are a number of universities, of course mosques, palaces, museums, bazaars, churches and parks. If the reason for our stay was not a particular one, we could imagine spending a few days of relaxed vacation.
And sometimes you stumble across sights that are particularly worth mentioning, for example the dentures above, displayed in a display case so that you can get an idea of the chewing tools of the future.
A rude awakening
The evening passes quietly, except for the still protesting noise of our digestive systems. We read old crime magazines, which a merciful soul has left in the hotel, until we finally close our eyes.
A very strange day.
A strange night.
It doesn't last very long. At least not in my case.
The numerous fresh hazelnuts, a source of healthy fats, do their work in the middle of the night. I don't have much time to hurry to the toilet, which is located somewhere on another floor. The night, silent and still until now, is startled now by strange noises. One might think that a minor earthquake is taking place somewhere. However, it's just my intestines getting rid of the excess fat.
Breakfast, however, is a revelation after the 24-hour fast. Not that it is a particularly good one, no, not at this establishment, but we probably would have eaten things that we would normally dread.
And so begins another day on our enforced sojourn.
Matching song for the matching year: Steve Miller Band - The Joker
And here the journey continues… to Tehran
