Decisor

The inner and outer lining of my tent hung out to dry.

The thing with solo travelling is that you only have to ask yourself where you want to go. In my case this facilitates the dicision-making process. It also facilitates the examination of who is to blame when things go wrong. The ride from Esfahan to Shiraz put me in a number of difficult situations that I, in retrospect, all misjudged. So as you can imagine, I did quite a bit of cursing when I was working myself to the bone, climbing hills in the rain.

The first decision had to be made 30 kilometres south of Esfahan. In Esfahan I had my wheels adjusted to car valves, as I had many leaks in the 'French valves' I've used so far. Finally I had the robust car valves that are also twice as cheap as the French ones. The frustration when I had yet again a flat tire, only 30 kilometres down the road... So I had to take measures (read 'a decision') and I changed the tube and the front tire. The tire had carried me for 13000 kilometres so I thought it was worn out. I replaced it by a spare that got punctured earlier in Iran (some of you might remember the chocolate/'dental carie' in my tire) and had repaired with a large patch from my tire repair set.

First I discovered that the extension cap that I had with me didn't fit on car valves, so that I couldn't inflate my new tubes. So changing back to the old ones. Lateron I would learn that the repaired hole was actually not stopping the tube from pushing through, so that there is a bump the size of a berry on my tire. Looking back, I wish I still had that tire you see parked against the electicity pole on the picture.

Luckily some truck drivers helped me. They even gave me a new extension cap for car valves, so that this problem got solved on the spot. It was actually quite a cosy gathering:

That night I camped behind some dumped pieces of concrete. I had parked me cycle against one of them, and when I took off the last pack, the balancing point shifted and my frame got severely scratched. Not that I expect to return on a bicycle in mint condition, but this unnecessary damage really annoyed me. But again, only one person to blame.

The next day I had lunch near a car wash (it had a mural of Mickey Mouse). When one of the employees saw me, he offered me tea (the golden kettle in the corner of the picture). Our conversation went more or less like this:

Guy: "I'm Afghan. Are you going to Afghanistan?"

Koen: "No, I'd love to but I don't think I am going there.."

Guy: "Why not?"

Koen: "Well, you see, there's a bomb problem..."

Guy: "So where are you going?"

Koen: "Pakistan."

Guy: "Pakistan? There's a bomb problem!"

An inconvenient truth. I've been following the news (even got to see a documentary about the growing influence of the Taliban in Pakistan on the Iranian English-speaking channel PressTV), and the continuing blasts in Karachi do worry me.

(Picture: the guy; I love the way the mountains continue in his sweater and inner lining of his jacket)

Later that afternoon I passed by the village of Izadkhast. My map indicates that it's 'ancient'. It was a cool place. Unfortunately the weather was getting bad (as the clouds indicate), so I had to hurry to find shelter for the night (the caravansarai was unfortunately closed).

This I found with Ali (the guy behind the donkey) and Esmail (with lamb), brothers and shepherds. The pictures were taking the next day when the weather was great. That night we ate omelette with bread, and drank tea. I shared fruits and sweets, things they don't have that often I think. After the dinner Ali made his prayer. Straight after that he showed me a woman with extraordinary large breasts on his mobile phone. Telling.

When Esmail was doing his prayer I remembered the prayer stone I had received in Mashhad, and gave it to Ali. He accepted it and started kissing it immediately. Then he disturbed his brother in his prayer (something that is uncommon) and placed the stone underneath his head.

Their puppies were like little bear cups, so sweet!



The next day I camped at this spot. This proved to be an expensive picture, as it rained a lot that night. The next morning the surrounding desert had turned into a pool of cement. Sticky sand with pebbles. Everything covered with muck. And if that wasn't bad enough, both my shoes broke during this exercise; holes at the tips. This I fixed today with duct tape. There isn't much you can't fix with duct tape.

It took me about an hour and a half to carry my things back to the main road. But, only one person to blame. I could have stayed in an abandoned building closer to the road, but I wanted to get further away from the noise of passing cars. In retrospect..

I also had decided to go away from the main road, as I was tired of traffic. The secondary road was beautiful, but the climbs.. Epic struggles! On some parts I had to take breaks every other 50 meters to catch my breath. But the reward when you reach the top is worth it. The picture shows one of the most beautiful descents I've had so far.

After it, one and a half day of rain followed. All the way to Shiraz.

Luckily I could stay with a family that night. Around nine o'clock the father of the house told me to get ready for bed, as I had to cycle again the next day. Just after I had put on my pyjamas (read: taken off my cycle cloths), somebody knocked on the door. And ten minutes later there was another knock. And another knock. The news of the stranger that had come to town had spread like wildfire, and all the local guys came to have a look. I took this picture from my bed.

And for Cycledad, because he asked me for it, a picture of one of the most impressive tombstones I've ever seen. It's either of Xerxes, or Darius, or.. well, one of the people that built Persepolis, my next destination. Will tell you about it when I get to Yazd.

Hope all goes well with everyone, speak soon!