Day 51 - We were SO close. But, as luck would have it, just 1 km from the border, we got pulled over again. They interrogated us and checked our bags. Thoroughly. They went through our SIM cards and navigation gear in detail, asking a ton of questions about where we were and what we were doing in Iran. They scrutinized all our communications, especially WhatsApp. Every communication we had. We spent an hour sifting through our luggage. The discovery of Liquid Metal (to fix our motors if we got a hole), a special tool for repairing chains, and my book 'Slaughterhouse-Five,' did not help the process. The book is an anti-war piece discussing the bombing of Dresden by the US and British during World War II - not the smartest choice to have on me (the cover with falling bombs definitely raised some eyebrows with the officer…), I’ll admit - but it was one of the only English books I could find in a library in Mashhad during the internet blackout. The other option was 'Man's Search for Meaning,' which is also anti-war and written by a Jewish prisoner. Not a great pick either. And that’s how it goes. Everything clear, we can go. We made our way to the border, but by the time we arrived at 4 pm, it was already closed. We ended up checking into a restaurant just before the Afghani border where we and some super friendly Afghani truck drivers had dinner and crashed on a Persian rug in one of the restaurant's typical 'cubicles'. Good night.
Day 52 - Our first order of business was to get our bikes exported. Fortunately, we had a helpful border guard who guided us to various spots to finally get the necessary stamps for our carnet de passage. All done. Just 500 meters later, we reached the Iranian border exit. We saw it coming. Instead of simply stamping our documents and passports, the guard accompanied us to an office where three men in civilian clothes were waiting. Just for us, we felt. It was a bit like déjà vu and of course NOT part of the usual border exit procedure; it was another round of questioning. Thankfully, it only lasted 30 minutes. "You can go" - and we were on our way. “I’ll be back”, Schwarzenegger would have said in that very moment, and so am I. Goodbye Iran, we love you. The moment you cross the border, you enter a different world. Mad Max came to mind. Beautifully wild and chaotic, yet there’s a system to it. Everything seems a bit disorganized, but anything is possible. Sand and dust are everywhere. Hundreds of people seemingly lost but with a firm destination. Sherif and his younger broder were on a mission and helped us navigate through the various counters to get our passport stamps. As we drove out of the border area, it felt like stepping into a scene from Blade Runner. Afghanistan welcomed us with fierce, stormy winds, and the swirling sand turned the whole landscape into a frightening reddish haze. The winds were so intense that they knocked our 250 kg bikes flat over while we parked, and the horizontally flying sand got through our dustproof enduro masks. As we rode away, we felt heavy electric shocks when we touched the brake or clutch levers due to the static charge the passing sand created on our bodies insulated against the bikes ground system. We traveled the 150 km to Herat with one hand always on a metal part of the motorcycle to prevent the discharges, and leaning our bikes at 11 o'clock against the wind to fight against its force. We encountered two checkpoints but breezed through them, now being seasoned pros in this matter. Even the Taliban didn’t intimidate us. Not yet.
Day 53 - We spent the day in Herat taking care of some admin. We had to get Afghan SIM cards and some cash. New country, new admin tasks. We also took the chance to clean our clothes and wash our bikes. Everything went smoothly, and we spent the rest of the day exploring the city, especially the Grand Mosque. Just like in Iran, it’s always picture time wherever we go. We find ourselves surrounded by at least 20 kids everywhere! In the evening, we headed to the local stadium to watch an Afghani soccer match between two Herat clubs. They serve tea in the stands, which is a bit different from the beer back in Belgium. On the bright side, while most people at home would be a bit tipsy by halftime, here all the Afghans go to the field to pray together: All the men line up facing Mecca on the grass. It’s quite a sight. We were impressed. Gion and I were the only ones left in the stands, so we definitely felt a bit out of place :)
Day 53 - Today was also the day to give our bikes a good clean. We really needed to wash off the sand from yesterday's sandstorm that hit us while we were between the border and Herat. We took care of it all at the local car wash. We also lubed our chains and made a few minor repairs from the falls we took. Great to have some clean bikes again, although we suspected it would not last long.
