Leaving Tehran towards Mashhad
Days 37 to 46, 8850 km
Day 37 - Today is a service day for us in Tehran. We're staying at the lovely Rooberoo hostel located right in the heart of Tehran. Similar to the traditional houses in Brussels, this hostel features a spacious inner courtyard filled with greenery and trees that offer tranquility and shade from the busy streets of Tehran outside. And space to service our motorcycles and equipment. We have three tasks to tackle: washing our clothes (two matching washing machines are currently running as I type), cleaning our camping kitchen gear (in Georgia, we cooked over a wood fire since we ran out of gas, leaving our gear charred and sooty), and repacking all our bags for the upcoming months. I also cleaned and serviced my helmet that has collected way to many scuffs and scratches. Gion ventured into the city to locate a motorcycle service shop where we could change the fluids of our bikes. The last oil change was in Erzurum, Turkey, 4000 km ago, and we need to get it done before heading into Afghanistan. The next available service point will be Dushanbe in Tajikistan. I took a stroll into the city and visited the stunning Tabiat bridge and park in northern Tehran just as the sun was setting.
Day 45 - We halted our posts in the last few days because of the situation here in Iran. Since last Tuesday, we have been in Tehran, experiencing the first two nights of bombings on Friday and Saturday. We hear the bomb impacts and anti-aircraft batteries firing throughout the night. The situation was slightly concerning, but we felt safe and had shelter. More importantly, we were surrounded by wonderful people, mostly Iranians who were on holiday or business in Tehran. We spent the days talking, cooking… and following the news. On Sunday afternoon, the impacts came closer to the center of Tehran where we were staying, prompting us to leave and head east towards Mashhad. Our plan is to exit through Afghanistan, but we need visas for that. Unfortunately, the Taliban embassy in Tehran is still closed. However, Mashhad is open, three days to ride there, so we are trying our luck. We hope also the border remains open, as Pakistan is already closed. Every day, we encounter at least 3-4 army and police checkpoints now. We are always pulled out, of course we stand out with our big adventure motorcycles. Just last night, one of us, along with all our gear and electronics, was taken to an office for questioning. We understand this is part of the process now. The police and military have been very kind, always polite, and they apologize before the interrogations. Afterward, it’s tea and a photo for Instagram ;) We recognize they are just doing their job. So many people have been helping us, offering us food and shelter for the night. Goodbyes are always emotional and often come with tears. We feel very fortunate to be here even in this complicated situation. We hope that all the friends and people we’ve met here in Iran, along with their families, are safe. Our hearts go out to them and to Iran.
Day 46 - We left Saha and Nader, heading eastward in an attempt to reach the sacred city of Mashhad, all while dealing with temperatures soaring to 40 degrees Celsius in northern Iran. We traveled along the Kuhurasan Road, which back in the days linked Baghdad or Mesopotamia across the Iranian plateau to Central Asia and China. In addition to the heat, numerous roadblocks kept us on our toes. Just before we reached Shahroud, of course, my clutch cable snapped. I could still ride, but stopping gradually became impossible. No checkpoint please, no checkpoint, I thought but of course there it was right at the entrance of Shahroud. The police and army officers were friendly and allowed us to pass after a quick run through our documents. I shifted gears without using the clutch; these old bikes are tough enough to handle it. However, there was no way I could manage another 500 kilometers to Mashhad like this. It was already dark, but thanks to Amin and Aida, whom we met along the way, we located a shop that had a clutch cable and another one that was able to perform the necessary repairs! My bike was in the shop, and it was already 8 PM. And then we saw the white car stopping and guys getting out. We knew the drill. A team from the IRGC (Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps) approached us. They were polite, asked questions, checked our papers, and did their job. But they were not done. We had to load all our gear into their car: our luggage, motorcycle gear, helmets... and Gion. It was a distressing sight to see my son riding off with four other men dressed in black camouflage in that car. Calm now. The arrangement was that they would call Amin’s phone once the interrogation was done. After a distressing three-hour wait they finally called. All clear. They returned Gion… and our gear. I had never been so relieved to see my son again. We were aware that such situations could arise; it had happened to others. However, experiencing it ourselves was not for the faint-hearted. Yet again, the IRGC team was courteous, professional, and very friendly. We understood that this would not be our last encounter.
