From Turkey to Iran

No photos with this edition as I cannot access my Blog or Picasa, all internet connections are vetted and it makes uploading too slow to waste time on.   I will add photos once we are in Turkmenistan.   However, before leaving Turkey I added quite a few pictures to the Slideshow on the Blog.

Having arrived in Kayseri and settled into a good lunch at the Hilton we embarked on an exploration of the Souk.   We were quickly latched onto by a local who gave us a run down on what was interesting about the town and how very few tourists ever stopped there because Cappadocia was so close to the south.   He showed us the original Caravanserai from the time of the Ottoman Empire.

This was where the trade caravans rested in the city, camels downstairs, humans up.   It still has some remnants of the past in that there is a wool trading floor in the building but as we were about to find out from our guide it is mostly now for, you guessed it, rug salesman, of whom our guide was one.   30 minutes of Turkish Rug history later we finally escape and continue our tour of the Souk.   I wanted to buy a plastic container for the honey I bought, as the last time I left this in it's original container, five years ago, it ended up all over the car.   Having found a stall that sold plastic stuff I was informed I could not go in as they were closing, not very Turkish like I felt.

The next day we set off for the 600 km drive to Diyarbakir in what might one day be Kurdistan.   The locals are fiercely patriotic and we were reminded several times that it is Kurdish Coffee here and not Turkish !   However, everyone was very friendly even the guys in the Turkish tanks along the road side looking for trouble.

The drive was fairly unremarkable but long, the road is a dual carriageway now which at least meant we could press on.   We arrived in Diyarbakir to stay at the London to Sydney Hotel which had not changed one iota.   I even managed to get a plastic container for my honey in the supermarket accross the yard.   We had our penultimate bottle of Barolo with a typical Turkigh mixed grill dinner as the last one has to be drunk before Iran.   very pleasant.   I was woken at 0400 to the sound of a single drum beating which when I looked out of the window was in the hands of an official and I think marked the end of Ramadan.

Up early for the final days push to Lake Van, the highest enclosed lake in Turkey and one of the highest in the world.   With a ph of 9.8 only a single species of Carp can live in it but the water is full of salts which are supposedly good for humans.

We head up onto the high plains at 7,000 feet as we cross east from Diyabikar.   It is beautifuil countryside full of wheat fields and shepherds.   Every few miles we meet a combine harvester as they work to get the crops in.  I do not think they have the weather pressures farmers in the UK have and seem very relaxed about how they harvest, they even store the wheat in the fields in huge uncovered piles.

We met a lot of locals on the way who would either drive us off the road or jam on their brakes right in front of us, all to get the best photo with their mobile phones.   Very good natured but at times a touch frustrating.

As we approach Lake Van about 100 km from our destination we drop to 5,500 feet and reach the edge of the lake.  It is a perfect clear blue, no polution and at such an altitude.  It takes a further hour and half and another pass at 7,300 feet before we reach the town of Van itself and our hotel perched on the side of the lake with a long finger pier extending into the water.

Having been dared to go in by Chris Grieves, who is already in the lake I dive in with shorts on to experience the rather strange soapy feeling of the water.   After a suitable soak it's  for a beer.   However, after three days of 40 degrees plus the temperature up here plummets with the sunset and I am soon shivering.   

We depart Van for Iran, Barolo finished, last beer drunk, long trousrs on, documents out.   The drive to the border is fairly bad with major 'offs' every few kilometres but we make the border by 1000 and are greeted with tremendous enthusiasm, first by the Turks but more so by the Iranians who all insist on sitting in the car for a photo.   Luckily our papers were given VIP treatment as the photoshoot continued.   We managed to escape with our car and belongings in tact and set off on the worst road of the event so far, in fact road is an overstaement.

Besides bad gravel we had to wade through two rivers and bounce around a number of big potholes.   Luckily this state of affairs had been forwarned first by Google Map showing no road on the Iranian side ! and then the customs officer saying there is 25 km of 'difficult road'.

Finally we reached a more normal road and got going to Tabriz.   However I had forgotten how dangerous driving is here in Iran until the first time we were forced off the road by an oncoming truck.   Coupled with endless cars swerving around us to get photos and massive sleeping policeman at every junction, the first day was the 'drive from hell'.   Our arrival in Tabriz should have been a doddle but having got into the hotel car park but not being able to find the Hotel ! we left the sanctity of the park and got completley jammed up in traffic until rescued by an Iranian good samaritan who took us down a one way street the wrong way back to the car park we had left an hour before and pointed out our hotel next door,  I felt such a twit when the car park attendent welcomed us back with a strange expression on his face !