On The Road

The German couple from last night recommended stopping at the Karaftu Caves. According to them a nice secluded spot where I could camp. I’m always weary of caves. They usually turn out to be the biggest tourist traps of any given country, with Lebanon winning the first price in that competition. However, with a firsthand recommendation I decide to go anyway. I stop at an Internet Cafe in Tekab and then make my way on a rapidly deteriorating road.

After a few wrong turns I finally find the right road to the caves and when I come around the last bend and see the parking lot I let out a small curse. It is jam packed with every kind of vehicle imaginable. So much for secluded. I cruise around on the nasty flagstone parking lot to find a spot and before I even come to a complete stop a guy comes running up to me and practically rips my hand of the handlebar to shake it. So, I hit the deck and I’m immediately surrounded by dozens of people. At least there are plenty of hands to pick up the bike. A quick survey reveals that there is no damage to the bike but the right luggage box has a nasty dent at the front corner. Waterproof no more. That’s OK, I think. It won’t rain in Iran. I wait for the crowd to disperse and start climbing up to the caves, which frankly don’t seem impressive to me at all.

Once I’m up I see a bunch of people gathering around my bike again, touching everything. I make my way down quickly and leave as fast as I can. Lesson learned. Never go to a “secluded spot” on a Friday!

I have to backtrack to Tekab and press on to Bijar to get some gas, where I find the friendly 22 year old Mohsen who guides me to the gas station in his car. While I get gas he asks me what my plan is. I say that I don’t know and I just want to grab some food and figure it out later. He guides me to a couple of restaurants in town, which are closed. Once we find one that’s open he orders some food for me and drives his mom, who has been sitting in the car the whole time, home. He returns to the restaurant and while I’m eating my food it starts to rain. So much for “no rain in Iran”. I ask Mohsen if there is a hotel in town and as luck would have it there is one right above the restaurant. Very basic but also very cheap. We move the bike into the empty shop next door and all is well.

I just settle into my room, take a shower, walk around town a bit and later check my email at the internet cafe before going to bed.

In the morning I have a very sparse breakfast and walk around town for a while. I find a very kitschy fountain

and it seems the town is gearing up for what I believe to be Khamenei’s birthday.

Another one of the ubiquitous roundabout statues catches my eye

and some propaganda posters are hard to overlook.

As promised I call Mohsen on my cell and he shows up ten minutes later to guide me out of town. I actually want to go the Katal Khor cave be he insists it is rubbish and I should go to the Ali-Sadr caves instead, which I already know are the worst Iranian tourist trap. I say no to that one and he insists on sending me off to Hamadan. I don’t want to hurt his feelings and follow him, figuring I can always turn and go to Katal Khor. As we say goodbye at the side of the road a guy comes up to me and wants to see me passport. OK, I hand him my passport and he walks away. I ride the bike to the roadblock ahead and him and another plainclothes guy thumb through my passport, clearly having no idea what they are looking at. He stares at my expired Iranian visa from a previous visit but never looks at the current one. Then he develops an unhealthy interest in my American visas. He finally asks which country I am from. I guess it’s not that easy to find out from the passport. So he radios back and forth with somebody else and finally declares I can go but I am not allowed to stop anywhere or take pictures. We’ll see about that. The way these two characters behaved, the way they dressed and talked very much reminded me of the East German Stasi. I guess small time secret service man on a power trip are the same the world over. Unfortunately, now I have to take the road to Hamadan and can’t turn back to take the road to the cave. I stop as soon as I’m out of sight and study my map and the Zumo map. Looks like I can make my way to the cave anyway. I see some civilian trucks with some military cargo under camouflage nets driving in the other direction. OK, that’s what this was all about. After a few kilometers I turn left on a dirt road taking me past poppies

and timeless mud brick villages

in gentle hills

until Zumo indicates I should take another left and sure enough there is a dirt road which I follow for a few kilometers. After crossing a sealed road I try to pick up the same dirt road behind a little village. I try a few roads but always end up in a river bed. I finally find a road and after a few kilometers two guys on a tractor just stare at me like I’m from outer space. A short time later I run into two teenagers and they tell me that this isn’t the road and I should turn back. I do and follow the sealed road a bit before making another left on a well maintained dirt road. This must be the one! I fly along for some time past some shepherds who’s dogs are chasing me. After another village my beautiful dirt road suddenly deteriorates badly and on top of that it starts to rain. I continue a while longer hoping the rain will stop. Well, it didn’t and the road turns into sticky mud which my tires and I don’t handle too well. So I decide to put my rain gear on and turn back. The cave gets flooded in rain anyway. Once I’m back on the sealed road I follow it in the opposite direction, which I figure will take me back to Bijar. Shortly before Bijar I run into a bunch of military guys at the side of the road. I decide to pack my Zumo away in case the road block guys are still there. I’m lucky and they are gone and I ride toward Hamadan in the rain. In Qorveh a guy almost runs me off the road just because he wants to invite me to his house. No mate, just want to keep going. The traffic from Qorveh to Hamadan is horrendous and at some point I have to take a five minute break to calm down. Luckily the city has an easy layout and is well signposted in English. I find me hotel easily and after negotiating the price down I park my bike in the looked Hotel compound and settle into my room. I have to dry all the stuff from my right pannier, which is not waterproof anymore after the fall at the Karaftu caves. And I thought it wouldn’t rain in Iran!