The 5000 Project

It has been almost a year and a half since I got back from my travels and I still feel as if I’m not meant to be here.

While on the road for such a long time I would find that I was craving the mundane routines, I actually missed being stationary. Seeing new things and meeting new people everyday took its toll.

Since I have been back, I have been quite content to hide away from the world and have a scheduled job to attend each day – however when starting it was very difficult working the 8 solid hours after a year of no work, also the work itself is quite intensive.

With each working day rolling into the next, the lack of time in the day is so much more evident when I can recently remember what it was like to have unlimited.

It has been an interesting observation.

I find it absolutely shocking that such a long time has past, it feels like only a few months at the most, I feel as if I have accomplished very little (other than a career). What each and everyone of us endures everyday, such dreadfully long hours, I find it hard to believe we apparently live in a higher echelon of world society. Or perhaps I have done what I was not meant to have, left the bubble for too long.

I am too tired after work to draw or write or socialise or do anything that can help me develop as a person; If I have had a good day at work and I’m feeling less-tired, by the time I settle down after work to attempt a free-activity, it is time to sleep in order to wake up refreshed enough to have the energy to attempt to use my free time the following day.

Instead, the easiest thing to do is watch TV shows, entertaining enough to feel as if my free time has been spent wisely – and mentally/physically non-exerting enough to still feel rested to ensure this mouse-wheel keeps spinning.

How did it come to this. I was going to be a new Nic, using my newly fined worldly social skills to go on adventures, meet new people, keep that backpacker grin; Live a grand and happy life like the expressions of all those thousands of people on anti-depressants, except without the requirement of artificial brain chemicals.

Time is the killer.

I never have time. People who manage to make time are people who have easy day jobs.

I need to find the best of both worlds; and I need to do this soon.

p.s. I also need to use my weekends wisely and catch up with more people. I am attempting to routinely visit the ezra pound after work on fridays if anyone wants to pop in and be merry. All welcome.

So, I tried typing up posts for european countries many times, but to be honest – everyone has been to europe, everyone knows what it’s all about. Stepping into bulgaria was word worthy and other eastern european countries can be interesting, however it is all mainly mainstream unevenful happenings which when attempting to write, utterly bored me. Even though my trip through europe wasnt exactly touristy (Couchsurfing and Hitchhiking for most of it) it was very western and familiar, it was everything I expected europe to be.

The ironic thing is that I had already been through south east asia and china before this trip and for me the main highlight was to be europe, the plan initially was to rush through asia and then spend most of the time attempting to live cheaply in europe. Little did I know that after everything I had seen during the last year, europe ended up being an exhausting annoyance of clean streets, crossable roads, convenient public transport and a distinct lack of people trying to sell me things from the street. Yes, I was annoyed at how easy it was, I was frustrated with the silence and peacefulness of market places, I was bored of the western safety-blanket comforts. It just didn’t seem… right. So I compensated by couchsurfing and hitchhiking as much as I could, to make things interesting – Also there wasn’t much choice with the remaining funds at the time. I have many stories to tell from these experiences, but nothing worth blogging about – the best has already been written. I may catch up with euro posts eventually, but I think the best thing is to let people know that I made it to the end of my journey.

I hitchhiked from Bruges in Belgium to London, England via car train under the english channel on the 8th day of May, 2012. It was raining in London. I bought a well deserved pint of heiniken and expensive fish and chips at a local english pub, of which I did not include in the overall project expenditures. The Project was finally completed, I was happy that I could eat something without worrying about the price, well deserved.

I started my trip on the 17th of April, 2011. It ended on the 8th of May, 2012.

The journey lasted exactly 1 year and 21 days, minus 3 weeks for the emergency visit home back in June.

Having almost run out of money and finding it difficult applying for a working visa for the UK without going back to australia first, I decided to fly back home – I flew back on the 13th of may and have been staying with my parents in busselton since then, clearing my head a bit.

Ok, now I guess it’s time to see how much I spent in this year. I had no real budget, I never really kept track of how much I spent – other than occasionally checking my bank account, always pleasantly surprised. The longer I travelled, the more confidence I had in discovering ways to spend less; the less money I spent, the more enlightening experiences I achieved. Here is a paste of my bank statement of each ATM transaction in the last year, listed by country:

** Note: Funds spent per country isn’t too accurate, as it is soley based on the bank transactions, I often crossed the border with money left and exchanged it on the other side, I tried to avoid this however as the dodgy blackmarket exchange guys usually do quite well ripping people off

Indonesia:
18/04/2011 Wdl ATM BANDARA NGURAH RAI DENPASAR IDN IDR10000.00 $109.88 (The bad start, expensive hotel)
18/04/2011 Wdl ATM Commonwealth Bank MELASTI – BAL IDN IDR15000.00 $173.27
26/04/2011 Wdl ATM TAMAN WISATA BOROBUDUR MAGELANG IDN IDR10000.00 $108.62
13/05/2011 Wdl ATM PLN UB SBS PALEMBANG IDN IDR5000.00 $55.27
16/05/2011 Wdl ATM Commonwealth Bank IMAM BONJOL, IDN IDR5000.00 $58.53
(Duration: 18/4/2011 -> 17/4/2011 = 29 days)
Indonesia Total: $505.57 $17/day (should be less, crossed to singapore with some indo money)

Singapore:
17/05/2011 Wdl ATM UOB A0570101 SINGAPORE SGP SGD50.00 $38.18
(Duration: 17/5/2011 -> 19/5/2011 = 3 days)
Singapore Total: $38.18 $12/day (left quickly, this would be a lot more if I stayed longer, plus I still had some indo money exchanged)

Malaysia:
20/05/2011 Wdl ATM RHB BANK MALAYSIA SL TODAY’S MA MYS MYR300.00 $94.03
20/05/2011 Wdl ATM PBB – MSG1 087 JOHOR MYS MYR300.00 $94.03
26/05/2011 Wdl ATM AMBANK BERHAD MSG TTW1 MYS MYR300.00 $94.13
05/06/2011 Wdl ATM AMBANK BERHAD TUMPAT MYS MYR200.00 $62.85
(Duration: 19/5/2011 -> 6/6/2011 = 18 days)
Malaysia Total: $345.04 $19/day

Thailand:
08/06/2011 Wdl ATM KRUNG THAI BANK SONGKHLA THA THB1150.00 $35.79
10/06/2011 Wdl ATM UOBT ATM BANGKOK THA THB3150.00 $98.74
13/06/2011 Wdl ATM TRAD FERRY PORT TRAT THA THB3150.00 $99.21 ~$50*
(Duration 6/6/2011 -> 14/6/2011 = 9 days)
Thailand Total: $184.53 $20.50/day
*crossed the border with $50 worth of thai money

Cambodia:
16/06/2011 Wdl ATM ABOA ABA ATM.SMILE MIN PHNOM PENH KHM USD104.00 $98.06
22/06/2011 Wdl ATM Toul Tumpoung CITY KHM USD104.00 $98.54
Thai money +$50
(Duration 14/5/2011 -> 26/6/2011 = 12 days)
Cambodia Total: $246.60 $20.55/day

Vietnam:
26/06/2011 Wdl ATM Commonwealth Bank 90 LE LOI TRA VNM VND300000.00 $14.38
28/06/2011 Wdl ATM DA LAT – PGD MINH KHAI HANOI VNM VND1020000.00 $47.74
29/06/2011 Wdl ATM DA LAT – PGD MINH KHAI HANOI VNM VND2020000.00 $94.07
06/07/2011 Wdl ATM ACB PGD PHO CO HOI AN NAM ATM 01 VNM VND1030000.00 $46.88
09/07/2011 Wdl ATM SGD 198 TRAN QUANG KHA HANOI VNM VND1020000.00 $46.32
08/08/2011 Wdl ATM KS THUY LAM HA NOI VNM VND1030000.00 $48.30
12/08/2011 Wdl ATM BARD LAO CAI VNM VND1020000.00 $48.19
(Duration 26/6/2011 -> 12/8/2011 – 25days* = 21days) *Emergency trip home
Vietnam Total: $392.76 $18.70/day

China:
14/08/2011 Wdl ATM HEKOU GEJIU CHN CNY600.00 $91.34
18/08/2011 Wdl ATM Gucheng local branch DALI CHN CNY700.00 $104.29
22/08/2011 Wdl ATM Sifang Street,Lj LIJIANG CHN CNY700.00 $105.86
25/08/2011 Wdl ATM Sifang Street,Lj LIJIANG CHN CNY1000.00 $150.06
02/09/2011 Wdl ATM MAANBEILU CHENGDU CHN CNY1000.00 $147.02
05/09/2011 Wdl ATM CHENG DU CHENGDU CHN CNY1000.00 $147.62
09/09/2011 Wdl ATM 010.064.038.073 CHENGDU CHN CNY1000.00 $148.13
10/09/2011 Wdl ATM NO9 RENMINBEI RD Chengdu CHN CNY1000.00 $150.53
15/09/2011 Wdl ATM LZ ZhangYe Road 143 GANSU CHN CNY1000.00 $154.13
21/09/2011 Wdl ATM DHNJZHH JIUQUAN CHN CNY1000.00 $153.30
26/09/2011 Wdl ATM CCB CCB.XINJIANGBRANC CCB.XINJIA CHNCNY1000.00 $162.58
07/10/2011 Wdl ATM CCB CCB.XINJIANGBRANC CCB.XINJIA CHNCNY1000.00 $163.96 * Kyrgyz visa money
12/10/2011 Wdl ATM NO100CHANGANZHONGROAD Xian CHN CNY2000.00 $319.12
30/10/2011 Wdl ATM KASHI URUMQI CHN CNY1000.00 $148.75
(Duration 12/08/2011 -> 30/10/2011 = 79days)
China total: $2146.69 $27.17/day **Inaccurate daily average due to visa costs

Kyrgyzstan:
05/11/2011 Wdl ATM ATM 112 “OSH” BRANCH OSH KGZ KGS4000.00 $84.78
10/11/2011 Wdl ATM ATM 474 “ZHIBEK ZHOLU” BISHKEK KGZ USD200.00 $197.04
14/11/2011 Wdl ATM ATM 474 “ZHIBEK ZHOLU” BISHKEK KGZ KGS4500.00 $96.52
22/11/2011 Wdl ATM ATM 474 “ZHIBEK ZHOLU” BISHKEK KGZ USD200.00 $203.98
29/11/2011 Wdl ATM ATM 189 ZHIBEK ZHOLU # BISHKEK KGZ USD200.00 $201.92 *
29/11/2011 Wdl ATM ATM 189 ZHIBEK ZHOLU # BISHKEK KGZ USD200.00 $201.92 * Uzbek+Iran Visa money
(Duration 30/10/2011 -> 29/11/2011 = 30days)
Kyrgyzstan Total: $986.16 $32.87/day **Inaccurate daily average due to visa costs

~~~~~~~~~~ NOTE: At this point the project had failed, I had only just gone over the $5000 limit, not anticipating china costs for tourist locations and visa costs for central asia was the main reason for failure ~~~~~~~

Uzbekistan + Turkmenistan + Iran + Armenia:
10/12/2011 Wdl ATM ATM Khiva Hiva UZB USD500.00 $494.66
** No International ATMs in Turkmenistan or Iran so the money had to be enough to last
(Uzbekistan Duration: 1/12/2011 -> 28/12/2011 = 28 days)
(Turkmenistan Duration: 28/12/2011 -> 1/1/2012 = 4 days)
(Iran Duration: 1/1/2012 -> 25/1/2012 = 25 days)
(Armenia Duration: 25/1/2012 -> 1/2/2012 = 7 days)
4 Countries, 64 days = $494.66 $7.7/day

Georgia:
02/02/2012 Wdl ATM ATM TBC-243 (Tb. Centr Tbilisi GEO GEL200.00 $113.57
07/02/2012 Wdl ATM PCG 10 Chavchavadze Av BATUMI GEO USD100.00 $93.66 **25 USD for the turkey visa
(Duration: 1/2/2012 -> 9/2/2012 = 9 days)
Georgia Total: $207.23 $23.02/day **Inaccurate daily average due to visa costs

Turkey:
09/02/2012 Wdl ATM TRABZON DEGIRMENDERE S TRABZON TUR TRY200.00 $106.91
13/02/2012 Wdl ATM ISBANK/3154-2994/NEVSE NEVSEHIR TUR TRY250.00 $134.00
24/02/2012 Wdl ATM ISBANK/0809-2818/OTOGA MUGLA TUR TRY250.00 $135.37
04/03/2012 Wdl ATM CANAKKALE SB 1 MERKEZ CANAKKALE TUR TRY200.00 $106.31
(Duration: 9/2/2012 -> 10/3/2012 = 31 days)
Turkey Total: $513.28 $16.55/day

~~~ Knowing that I was running on no money, this is when I started to speed up the travel, expensive europe was approaching, couchsurfing and hitchhiking were the only options

Bulgaria:
11/03/2012 Wdl ATM PLOVDIV,AVTOGARA RODOP PLOVDIV BGR BGN200.00 $127.08
19/03/2012 Wdl ATM RFB ATM 056715 SOFIA BGR BGN100.00 $64.04
Serbia:
19/03/2012 Wdl ATM RBRS ILIJE GARASININA BEOGRAD SRB RSD5000.00 $56.60
24/03/2012 Wdl ATM SOCIETE GENERALE SRBIJ BELGRADE SRBRSD5000.00 $57.58
Hungary + Austria:
27/03/2012 Wdl ATM KH BANK BUDAPEST HUN HUF5000000 $219.59
Czech Republic:
06/04/2012 Wdl ATM RAIFFEISENBANK A.S. BRNO CZE CZK2000.00 $104.30
09/04/2012 Wdl ATM CSOB 1702 BRNO BRNO CZE CZK2000.00 $103.27
Germany + Netherlands + Belgium:
18/04/2012 Wdl ATM OSTSAECHSISCHE SPK DRE SBGOMPITZ DEUEUR300.00 $378.17
(Duration: 10/3/2012 -> 8/5/2012 = 58 days)
Total Europe: $1110.63 $19.14/day

Grand Total: $7171.33 in a 12 month journey from Bali to London (not including the 3 week trip back)

Huge thankyou and much love to all of the 32+ couchsurfers who hosted me along the way, they took care of me at every stop of my journey, without them the trip would have been near impossible if not lacking in huge cultural influence. Special thanks to the people in indonesia, turkey and iran who would go out of their way to ensure I was well looked after (yes, all Muslim countries).

Of all the things I experienced during my trip, the one most important influence is that we are all the same. After meeting new people who trusted me into their home every few days for a year, I started to see people in other people – we are a lot simpler to understand than what we expect. No matter how startled or apprehensive a person may look from the outside, they will always find it difficult to avoid returning a genuine smile.

Interesting facts:
– I went through 4 pairs of thongs (flipflops) and 3 pairs of sunglasses; some lost, some broken, some stolen.
– I got the sole of my sneakers hand stitched up by a bootsmith in china when they were coming apart; the first shoe, then the second a week later. I gave these shoes away once I hit snow in kyrgystan, to an italian guy who was flying to south east asia and just gave his boots away to another guy in the hostel.
– I hand stitched with my travel sewing kit; my jumper 4 times, jacket pockets twice, jacket shoulder once. Attempted to hand stitch my jeans, paid $1 to get a chinese tailor to do a much better job. I did this twice before having to buy a new pair in Iran.
– Wore out 4 pairs of socks completely.
– Hand washed my clothes countless times.
– Lost an awesome russian hat. Lost a towel, then claimed a friend’s lost towel when he left a hostel, lost his towel two months later. Lost two pairs of shorts.
– Never had a bad experience (other than getting my phone stolen in Hanoi)

It was raining on the border, with the weather came uncomfortable difficulties on the road ahead. The border guards noticed that I didnt have a visa for turkey, without knowing any english they pointed me to go further on to get a visa and then come back to the checkpoint. It puzzled me as to why the visa registration booth was actually after the visa checkpoint.

I attempted to do as instructed but couldn’t find the office, until I crossed to the other side, weirdly enough the side where people were traveling from turkey to georgia seemed to hold a small office for registering turkish visas. I approached the counter. Yet again the officer looked at my passport to find that the iran visa flops open in the middle with a photo, he says ‘Iranian?’ I say ‘No. Flick to the first page of the passport, I’m australian’. I regretted this a little, I was 1 second away from getting a free visa, $25 later a small visa stamp is printed on a pristine and valuable new page of the passport.

I bought a sim card for my phone and a bus ticket to Trabzon, A city on the edge of the black sea, every turk seems to believe that this city is always raining. At this time at least, the populous were correct. I tried to find accommodation as the sky was bucketing down. Every hotel seemed to cost $20 or more for a room, there were no hostels, no couchsurfing responses. The city was modern, the western icons were prominent; namely McDonalds, along with free wifi, noone ever questioned the fact that I never bought any McProduce when I casually setup my laptop on one of their hipster furnature designs – Western civilization returned. I tried about 10 hotels before one dodgy looking, non-english speaking, hotel and reception respectively; accepted an offer of $10, for a tiny closet of a room, somehow managed to still fit in a TV, even though the power cable for the TV had been cut off. Many other hotels were used as brothels, this was after all the most liberal of all turkish cities, being right on the border of georgia.

The next day I bought a jumper while it was still relitively cheap, as my wool jumper had enough holes in it to be classed as a messy ball of yarn. Due to the weather, I purchased a bus ticket to capadocia instead of hitchhiking – the bus journey was very comfortable and cost $20.

Upon arriving in nevseheir near capadocia, I met with my couchhost, a boy living with his mother, sister and brother in a traditional turkish family homestead. He asked if I would like a shower after I settled, I replied yes, he mentioned it will take 30min to prepare; not knowing what this meant, I waited then entered the bathroom when the preparation was completed. The room held a large coal boiler made in old cast iron, there was a bucket in the corner and a cold water tap just above it – the setup reminded me of indonesia, the method of having a shower was to simply fill the bucket and pour the water from above, the only difference being that it was snowing outside and the boiler contained nice boiling water to be diluted with the cold; in Indonesia hot water was never a requirement. The food they served for every meal was very traditional and delicious, I felt cultural similarities to iran when I wasn’t allowed to enter the kitchen, also the sister of my host seemed to do everything – including filling up a glass of tea once it was empty, she would sit and wait while the men talked.

The next day I took a dolmash (bustaxi) to goreme for $1. Goreme is the core of capadocia, a series of unique rock formations that were used for hidden cave hideouts during times when roman catholic crusaders invaded the lands, sending the protestant christians fleeing. A bed in a hostel room, within a cave, cost $10 a night – it was worth it for the cave sensation. I met an american guy in the hostel and together we decided to check out the underground city of Derinkuyu – just 20km north of nevsihir, where I was to stay another night with my host. We arrived at the town and headed to the underground city. There were many vast caverns, each room provided an essential social element – they even had church rooms and common rooms. The caverns twisted and curved for many kilometers, I decided to head back, else become lost within the abyss. I returned to the surface and couldnt find my newfound friend, I waited 2 hours, still nothing – I decided to head back to nevseheir alone. Perhaps one day I will come across my companion of the lost underground… perhaps one day.

I slept one more night on a couch provided by the local family and was even an audience for when my host’s brother played the traditional three string guitar in a very professional way. I thanked them for their hospitality and entertainment and hopped on a bus to the outskirts of the city. From this point onwards I would embark on an epic hitchhiking adventure all through turkey.

After taking a local bus out of town, the first car to pick me up were a couple of mechanics who managed to take me as far as aksaray. I then flagged a fish van, an almost tolerable stench of fish lingered during the journey, but it was worth the trip. The man shared a cigarette with me and we attempted to mime small talk, upon approaching my destination of konya, he took me right into the centre of the city – quite a detour for him. I stayed with a couchhost in konya who is the owner of a large computer consultants chain for businesses all through turkey. Konya is known for the whirling dervishes, monks who spin for hours on one spot. The dervishes were actually adopted into the muslim culture, before the islamic invasion they used to represent a local shamanist tradition. I hit the road in the direction of antalya.

I took the correct bus out of konya, however the weather turned bad just as I started hiking west, noone was picking me up except for a dolmash – the driver charged me $5 to get to seydisehir, the halfway point to where I intended on getting to, he didn’t allow the van to stop earlier once the weather cleared up (most likely he just didn’t understand what I was saying). I got off at the bus terminal for seydisehir, the weather cleared up nicely – I embarked on the next leg of hitchhiking only to find that 3km further up the road a massive traffic jam just outside the tiny town was forming rapidly. Puzzled, I approached a group of turks huddled in the middle of the road, they told me in very broken english that there has been an avalanche in the mountain range further up the road – there was no other alternative route to antalya. I asked if I could get a lift once the snow is cleared, drivers of a fruit truck agreed and threw my bags in the back. I waited an hour, still no change, some cars started to turn back. There was a large coach bus behind my intended transportation, the passangers were gathered below – one man spoke fluent english and I told him about my journey. The police decided that all cars are to wait at the bus terminal until all-clear. I was about to jump in the fruit truck until the man from the bus had a thoughtfully hesitation after I said goodbye and turned away, he called me back and explained he will pay for a bus ticket for me, all the way to antalya, once the snow clears. I was amazed at the generosity of this man. Once we arrived at the terminal he also bought me lunch at the canteen and a bag of biscuits from the nearby shop, this was not the last I would see of extreme turkish hospitality. The bus took me over an amazing mountain range, the snow being recently plowed was at the same height as the bus, it was as if we were driving through a snow tunnel. After an hour of snow driving, a green glow of rolling hills and thick trees shined brightly as an effect of an enveloping wave of sunlight; emerging from the clouded mountain highlands to endless heights of blue sky ahead. It was a pleasant sight, not to mention the magnificent Mediterranean sea and it’s picturesque white-rock turkish coast.

I couchsurfed with a lawyer in antalya, very nice house near the beach, quite fancy. I stayed there two nights then hitched to olympos. Olympos holds ancient greek ruins of a town, and impressive ruin of a castle sits ontop a cliff overlooking a nice beach. There are many hostels within the forest before the beach, I found the cheapest one and stayed for two nights $12/night, which included a really nice dinner and breakfast. During the stay, I hiked around the coast and up a hill to a location known as chimaera, with a guy from tajikistan. People who know their greek mythology will know that the chimaera is a beast with the head of a goat, the body of a lion and the tail of a snake – It resides in the firey pits of hades. The greeks named the location after this beast of the underworld because of the eternal fires that burn forever, located at the summit of the hillmountain. The fires come from natural gas vents, to the old civilizations it would be seen as magic. The fires themselves were quite small, most probably were a lot bigger back in the day; the remarkable thing was seeing scattered ruins on the ground and all over the place, all of which could easily be on display in a museum.

I headed back on the road towards Kalkan, hitched three cars:
– A dentist guy, who after he picked me up, stopped to help a campervan with a family of austrians, their battery was flat
– The austrians, who were heading to a town closer to kalkan than the turk dentist ;)
– A businessman in a fancy car for the last 20km or so

Kalkan is a settlement for english expats, I managed to get accepted for a couch there. My host owns and runs a clothes shop in the town, then during her spare time helps out the homeless animals (which there are a lot of in turkey). Her house was full of cats and dogs that had previously been abandoned somewhere. The traditional turkish way is to fear dogs and other animals, as such the animals treated very poorly by the locals. It was an interesting experience staying in a house full of animals, being greeted in the morning by a couple of dogs and cats, puppies covering the front yard. My host was heading to fethiye two days later and gave me a handy lift there. I stayed in a hostel ($10, free breakfast) for a night then hitched to the marmaris peninsula with a french couple.

A truck and a car later and we arrived. Marmaris is a very green area of coast and hills, with beautiful climate and crystal clear waters. After taking a dolmash to a semi-remote area of the peninsula, we had trouble finding accommodation, it was getting dark, but as always – we found a place in the end (2 bed villa, $7 each). We hiked up yet another waterfall the next day, then took a dolmash back to the main bus terminal. I took a bus to Izmir ($12), a small break from hitchhiking.

I was picked up by an australian-turkish couchhost when I arrived, he took me to his house in urla, a town right next to Izmir. I stayed there a night then hitched 4 cars to the great roman ruins of Ephesus, one of the highlights of turkey. It was once a grand city, holding an impressive amphitheatre and an impressive library. Unfortunately it cost $20 entrance, but it was well worth it.

I took a $2.50 dolmash back to Izmir and stayed with a host closer to the city centre. Izmir is a nice coastal city with a lot of bars and a youthful feel about it. I hitched a truck with a kurdish guy who bought be lunch, then a telecom van that was going to repair a line fault; and lastly a truck that was on its way to germany, it was very tempting to just go with him all the way – but I still had so much of turkey and eastern europe to see. I arrived in cannakale in the middle of a wild storm, I managed to walk 4km to the city centre without incident, my host’s house was directly in the centre.

I visited troy on the first day, being a fan of the horse of troy story it was very interesting to see the ruins of 5 different cities of different ages dating back to the 12th century BC. I settled in cannakale for a week and befriended some couchhosts that rocked up to a gathering at a bar, I decided to stay more than a few nights, as my host wanted to take me to Gallipoli on the weekend, the peninsula where many ANZACs died during world war 1. We took a car ferry over the dardanelles and drove to the top of the tallest hill that overlooks the entire west coast of the peninsular. This was the site where ataturk commanded the turkish troops to victory, it was easy to see how much of a strategic advantage the turks held. Well every australian knows the history, I won’t go into details, everyone else can wikipedia it – pretty much far too many australian and new zealand troops died during this one tragic battle. I found the name of my great uncle at the solitary australian memorial site called the lone pine.

The day after this excursion I decided to camp in galipoli, somewhat illegally, then start the hitch to istanbul from there. After a long hike to a remote area where noone could spot me, avoiding angry wild dogs along the way, I set camp under thick trees within a forest, hiding vision from all sides. The night was very cold, not having a travel mattress (the blue foam things) didn’t help matters, even when laying my jacket under the sleeping bag, it was still difficult to have a good night’s sleep – I should have believed bear grylls when he tells me that 90% of body heat is absorbed from the ground. I woke surprisingly refreshed despite the uncomfortable sleep, to the sounds of 1000s of muslim prayers echoing and reverberating. I walked to a clearing in the trees near a cliff, the view was amazing; it was getting dark when I set camp the night before, so I had no idea how high up I was, I could see the entire coast with cannakale over the strait. The muslim prayers that broke the timeless silence of the wilderness were coming from the city of cannakale all at the same time. It was the morning 6am prayer, a decent enough alarm clock considering my phone timepiece was well and truly flat. I packed and hiked back down to the main road.

Ok, I hitched:
– A hostel owner, who took me to his hostel in the next town. He didn’t mind that I walked away from it
– A large turkish guy who didnt know a word of english
– one truck that was heading to italy
– a cheese factory sales manager who not only bought me lunch at a canteen but also bought a bus ticket to istanbul for me and left me at the bus station with 10min to spare. This would mark the second time this happened in turkey.

I arrived in istanbul! chaos, everywhere – big city anxiety faded and I clicked into gear. I took a metro to the centre to get my bearings, then called the irish guys I met in georgia (I met them in a hostel, they live in istanbul, they offered to let me stay at their place; not sure if I mentioned this in the georgia post). I arrived, checked out a few mosques and markets the next day, then headed out the day after – quite eager to see europe, although technically I crossed to europe after arriving in galipoli and I was staying on the european half of istanbul.

Hitchhiking out of istanbul failed miserably, the city was too huge to get out of – I took a dolmash to the border city of Edirne and applied for a last minute couch while waiting in a kebab shop. 1hr later a host arrives to accomodate me; turkey is absolutely amazing for hitchhiking and couchsurfing.

I took a dolmash to the border of bulgaria and awaited my schengen european free stamp that entitles me to roam most of europe with no borders for 3 months. I was Officially back to the comforts of western civilization, at the beginning of my trip I told myself that the highlight of this trip will probably be europe, little did I know that it was to be the most dull part of the journey after the adventures I had already experienced through asia. Nevertheless, I’ll try and sum up the whirlwind euro trip in the next post.

*phew* damn this was a long post.

I walked through the border, there was a lot of sludge more than snow on the sides of the road, the holes in my boots were very noticable as my feet and socks started to get quite wet – sludge is a lot worse than snow as snow is cold enough to keep a solid state whereas sludge melts to a point where it becomes really wet.

I took a break from attempting to hitchhike (there were hardly any cars going through this border, none wanted to know about poor ol me) and found some emergency rubber shoes that I bought in iran for $1 deep within the bag, along with a nice dry pair of socks. Swapped the bad for the good and continued on the semi-frozen road to nowhere.

After an hr of walking down the only road, I walked into a shop to buy some bread – I asked what thankyou is in georgian, they asked me why I needed to know the georgian word, when I was in azajaban. I paused for a minute for a momentary check of reality, yes, I definitely passed through the georgian border; I was fairly sure it was difficult to cross over to another country when I was still on the same road from the border. In my moment of hesitation a guy next to the shopkeeper pointed to himself and said ‘azabaijan’ then pointed to me as if to ask where I was from, all while carrying a rifle raised waist height and all together seemed to have a very serious mannorism about him. I answered australia and hoped that it was the correct answer, it was, the man put down his gun. I could almost hear him thinking the words ‘You may pass’. There are conflicts between armenia and azajaban, I assumed after this meeting that I was in the not so happy area of azabageorgia. I paid for my bread and continued on.

After a couple more kilometers I walked through a small town with a school and lots of goats. There was a large and what seemed quite luxurious passenger bus that was just about to leave, I was quite pleased. I approached the driver and asked how much it would cost to get, what I assumed would be, to tbilisi (the capital city of georgia) – the man, to my dissapointment, let me know that the bus was going to the azabajan capital – once again I hesitated and required another reality check – surely an unnamed friend back home hadnt finished his teleportation device this early, surely he had not been testing out a prototype on me via some kind of satellite relay… or perhaps, perhaps. I kept walking. One local was nice enough to let me know which road to head down for tblisi once I hit a T junction, I was definitely heading in the right direction, this pleased me greatly; although I still had to get to the city.

I saw the passenger bus overtake me, I waved goodbye in an act of mental strength as the cold started to chill through the jacket. The brake lights came on, the bus slowed to a halt. I stopped walking for a second, then ran to the bus door probably looking a little too cheerful. The bus gave me a lift to the turnoff for the azabajani city and tbilisi which was about 40km down the road. They didnt charge me anything, never thought I’d be able to hitchhike a luxury passenger bus before, well to be honest I never really thought i’d hitchhike before this trip either.

5min later a car picked me up! the two guys knew a bit of english too, it was such a relief at the time – they took me to a city close to tblisi and I took a mashutka from that point onwards, as it was starting to get dark.

I managed to find a hostel for $10/night, then couchsurfed with a japanese/american guy for the following couple of days. Tbilisi was a typical ex-soviet city, with plenty of international (US) corporate influence as a statement against russia/USSR, the people still seemed cold and damaged however. I took a marshutka to stalin’s hometown of gori (apparently people in gori still love stalin), although the driver didn’t tell me when we reached the town, the van was still on a highway in the middle of nowhere when it stopped so I assumed it was nowhere near a town – I missed the town and decided to just head to the border of gorgia and turkey ($15) as there was too much snow to enjoy any scenic countryside. Batumi was a good place to get off as the snow had thawed and the sun was shining above a cloudless sky. I was heading for turkey, overlooking the black sea, with a church on the gorgia border and a mosque on the turkish border – it was plain to see the quick changes in culture and society, once more.

The bus stopped on the border nearing midnight, thankfully (although I knew beforehand) visas were available on the border, just a simple form needed to be filled in and $10 paid for a 21day tourist visa. No photo needed for the application.

I arrived in Yerevan, the armenian capital at 8am – quite a small but joyful city – I befriended an iranian guy on the bus, and we decided the first thing to do was to find a bar and enjoy a nice cold pint of beer or 2, after spending too long without beer in iran. We walked through the main street trying to find a dodgy looking bar that might sell cheap beer, we admitted defeat and sat down at a yuppie bar, as all bars in yerevan look like yuppie bars; to our pleasant surprise, however, the beer was still dirt cheap at ~$1.50 a pint.

After a few day-pints, I parted ways with my buddy and roamed the city for a bit before meeting with my couchhost, her apartment was located right in the centre of the city – perfect location, excellent stumbling distance from the many hipster basement bars that were scattered around the city centre; my host ensured I enjoy much of the armenian youth lifestyle in yerevan, I was sufficiently beered. One night I was a little too beered, causing head injury after slipping on steps leading up to a bar toilet – I blame it on the sudden shock of alcohol in the system after a month in Iran. Most of the youth in the bars were actually iranian students living a much more liberal life in armenia, a refreshing change. Other than drinking lots of beer, I also visited the Armenian history museum; extremely informative museum highlighting the deep armenian culture, a very old civilization – awesome ancient bows and swords were on display, primitive yet very creative in design. The museum also brought the genocide to the attention of visitors, after WW1 the ottoman turks killed ~1million armenians through executions and forced marches during the process of deporting them from turkish controlled lands. The Turkish government has never apologized for the event, some turks claim that it was a band of kurdish mercenaries hired by the turkish government that performed the harsher-than-anticipated deportations – Armenians believe this is a weak and convenient excuse. During the history of armenia, the country managed to gain a few enemies, most of which surround the small isolated land. Oh and the russians had a turn here too, handy for my as I hadn’t forgotten the few russian words from central asia.

After a few fun and relaxing days in yerevan, I headed to the outskirts of the city to fetch a marshutka van-taxi to the next town, Foolishly, when arriving close to a marshutka stand, I was conned by a taxi driver. The man gave me a very good deal to the next town (Hrazdan) he showed me a note equivalent of $1 as to show how much it would cost when I mentioned the town name – I mentioned the town name again to be sure and again he showed the note, for some reason I believed him, the town was close and I thought maybe transport costs were similar to iran, also he had a trusting face. When arriving in the destination town, he informed me that it was $1 per kilometre not $1 to the destination that we confirmed before I arrived in the taxi – I was about to protest this obvious con until he took down the taxi light above the car which displayed $1(of armenian dram)/Km in glowing neon – I had no argument. I paid the man $15 worth of local currency (6000 dram) and got out of the car.

From this point onwards I decided to never take a taxi again, this was the very very final straw for taxi drivers world wide, too many times they have tried to con me with some creative angle – Never again. This is when I gained the courage to hitchhike on my own as much as possible, armenia is the point of expensive; it only gets more expensive from there on. I put my hand out, with the thumb proudly shining in the sun, together with my big fake smile – it took about 10seconds, first car, students eager to talk with a foreigner. It took one more car to get to the next town of Sevan, it was so easy, to the point that I was a little disappointed that I didn’t have to actually hike a few kilometres through the floury snow and beautiful mountains on a nice sunny day.

Sevan is a tiny town (every armenian town is tiny except for the capital city) near a giant lake. On the edge of town there was one hotel on a hill with a broken sign, it looked like either it was abandoned or it was used for horror movies – I walked 3km to the town centre through thick snow. This is when I noticed that the hotel I passed was the only option for sleep, many taxis wanted to take me there, the locals didnt even think there was a hotel in town. It was getting dark so I hiked back up to hotel after having a feed of kebab and buying a cheap bag of oranges. I arrived at the hotel, it really was a shithole, after a bit of polite shouting a man arrived knowing no english – I bartered a price down from $20 to $14, this was the cheapest and only option, else freeze to death in the heavy snow outside. I took it, begrudgingly, yerevan was to be the only place in the country that listed couchsurfers – there really was no other option (honestly). The next morning I woke up early and hiked through the town again, I wanted to see the lake side before heading to the main road to hitchhike again. The lake was quite vast and impressive; and frozen at the shore level for quite a way out, noone was around, noone seemed foolish enough to be outdoors in the extreme cold conditions. I started to feel the cold, the day’s hitchhiking had begun. The first car took me to a tourist site, as he was heading there anyway, turned out to be one of the oldest churches in the world, built in ~60AD, then burnt to the ground by Genghis and his buddies and reconstructed a few years back. It was still very impressive as the construction wasn’t new, it was just recompiled by the stones that remained. I hitched to Dilijan on a small truck and a later a 4WD.

Dilijan was a beautiful town in a miniature mountainous green valley, with icing snow on the top. I stayed another expensive night in the cheapest guesthouse in town, bartered down to $14 without breakfast – Although after having a good conversation about my trip and my remaining funds, she threw in a massive breakfast free of charge. I got back on the road and hitched a Fruit truck to vanadzor, then one car to alaverdi – the guys in the car gave me beer and a sandwich, as they were celebrating… something, the language barrier made it difficult to know what exactly, they charged me $1 when I got out.

After checking out a few places, I found a room for $15 (once again, bartered down from $20) although it was a bit of a hike from the centre. The next morning I took a cablecar (30c) to a hidden town on the top of a mountain, which was the real alaverdi and housed an amazing indiana jones style cathedral right on the very scenic top of the peak. I walked about 4km before a car hitched me to the Georgian border, bypassing a huge avalanche blocking the main road on a cliff-face by diverting through a small town, I could see the extensive damage when we returned to the main road. I walked 2km to the georgian border, the cheerful georgians gave me a free stamp in the passport, valid for 360 days tourist visit. I wondered why they didn’t just add 5 more days to make it a full year. I stepped in Georgian soil, it felt colder. It was.

So, Just read the nice intro to the iran overview post and I’ll resume from mashhed. This post is meant to compliment the overview post, I tried not to double up on info.

Mashhed:

The holiest city of iran, the bus ($2) took me through a modern city from mud huts in the surrounding desert. For the first time in months I saw signs of modern civilization, but as modern as it looks I still couldnt take money from a bank ATM, due to international sanctions I had to ensure I had enough USD beforehand, which I took out from an ATM in Uzbekistan. One other oddity was the written language being even more difficult than chinese, just because the numbers were also different – it made finding buses and houses rather challenging until I managed to learn the characters. I couchsurfed with an iranian couple in mashhed who are planning to immigrate to either canada or australia due to the difficulties in iran, I provided helpful information. The next day I went out with their friends to the tomb of Ferdowsi, an ancient poet who’s writings have affected iranian culture in a huge way, he wrote in persian even though arab invaders at the time were pushing to convert the country to arabic. His stories are also metaphors for fighting against a religious government; as such the tomb, regardless of its massive popularity, is on the outskirts of the city and less advertised as a tourist attraction. Today phrases from his poetry are used in everyday conversation, it has merged into the lexicon of the persian language. Many people almost worship ferdowsi as something to hold on to when so many muslim influences are overtaking old traditions. The main tourist attraction in mashhed is the holy shrine of… some imam (there are 12 imams in the shiite religion) for more info on this, flick back two posts for the iran overview. During the last couple of days staying with my host, the parents of the wife came to visit, upon leaving back to tehran, they invited me to stay with them – I accepted, although in hindsight I believe it may have been tar’of (see previous post).

Tehran:
12hr train ride ($7) was a similar experience to most other sleeper trains, although being the only foreigner I was invited for a coffee with one of the train dudes – he first asked if I was Muslim, when I replied with ‘no’ it seemed to open the flood gates for controversial discussions on the problems of Iran. He provided tips as to where I should visit in Iran, of which I used as a handy guideline. Upon arriving in Tehran, I followed my hosts to a taxi and we arrived at their house – one of their daughters knew a bit of English, other than that it was rather hard communicating. The family was quite conservative, the prayer times were obeyed and the government controlled television stations were on the TV, news portrayed opposite to western media (first house I entered that didn’t have an illegal satellite connection). Although I felt a little confined, they were fantastic hosts, cooked amazing meals and ensured that I was never left hungry. Offering to help in the kitchen was fruitless, as this is the realm of the women – almost culturally illegal for a man to enter. When guests arrived, the men and women sat seperated. During the day I visited the incredible history museum rich with persian history and the jewels museum, showcasing many stolen treasures from the persian empire’s rein – one of which was a globe of the world comprising solely of gems. The hosts washed all my clothes and ensured my bag was packed with enough food to make it to the next destination, I thanked them for the interesting cultural experience and hospitality (well, attempted to with the language barrier) and took a 7hr bus ($5) to esfahan, or Isfahan, its all the same.

Isfahan:
I stayed at a hostel in isfahan ($5/night, no internet). Isfahan central was very modern, heaps of sporting goods stores mainly, quite odd; just a few streets out from the centre though and you find yourself in an ancient suburb with old mosques and a roofed-bazzar that seems to be a tunnel that goes on forever, splitting occasionally. The Bazzar was a photographer’s dream, with light shining down through the dust via different shaped holes in the arched roof, it provided light for the carpet and date vendors – many characters drinking chai while working hard selling goods in ancient constructions mazed within the main above-ground tunnel. In my opinion this bazaar and the surrounding buildings in the same suburbs was the highlight of isfahan, many people also come to the city to see the old bridges over the river – I wasn’t too impressed with the bridges. Might be worth mentioning here that kebabs are reasonably rare in iran, they hardly ever have turkish-style donar kebabs, only sausage style shishkebabs cooked over coals. The most frequent and cheapest meal is the common sandwich, packet burger meat heated and thrown in a baguette with some salad and sauce, served with ‘doog’ yoghurt mixed with water drink, for ~50c in most areas of Iran, a great traveller’s meal. I took a bus to Yazd ($6, 4hrs).

Yazd:
Very awesome old town, every building was mud-brick. The older buildings have ancient air-conditioners build in known as wind-catchers; they consist of vents and flaps that channel the cool air down while sending the hot air up – ancient technology that works quite well – not so good in winter though ;).  I couchsurfed in yazd in an actual hotel! the waiter was the host and offered a bed free of charge in the dorm, with free breakfast – at first I thought I was going to have to pay for the bed when I check out, I was pleasantly wrong. The host was a very liberal guy and my stay in the hotel was very much a well deserved rest hanging out with many other backpackers – one guy was attempting to cycle from south australia to scotland, made my trip look like a holiday (which, I guess, it kinda is). I hired a taxi with a few other backpackers and we took a trip to a Zoroastrian temple, the original religion of Iran, a monotheist religion that believes some god will rise from a lake somewhere in iran, they believe in the power of light vs dark, not unlike the force. The temple was actually a newly built shitty block of houses within the face of a huge rock mountain, it was meant to be the mecca for zoroastrians world wide, the prime pilgrimage location – a hole in a rock-wall where some imprisoned princess poked a magic stick which created water and saved her life… something like this anyway. On the way back from the temple in the middle of the desert, we visited another ancient town that had been abandoned, it overlooked a field that used old aqueduct technology for irrigation – a narrow bridge was also used to channel water over a large chasm, it was an amazing place to walk, I could easily imagine what the old civilization would have been like. In Yazd I played underground pool, drank illegal moonshine and won $20 in an illegal game of poker, not naming names or locations ;) I collected my earnings and fled to Shiraz.

Shiraz:
The wine is actually named from this town, some french guy took a clipping from a grapevine and introduced it in france. Today, however, with alcohol being banned it’s rather difficult tasting some shiraz in shiraz; unless you know people, which I didnt when I was there. I stayed in a hotel dorm for $6 for just one night, and headed to the great perspolis with a japanese dude, the palace of several persian empires, Cyrus (who was benevolent and kind to other nations retaining their culture, received gifts from afar), Darius and Xerxes (not so nice). The site was epic, some old pillars still stand even after alexander the great roamed through and burnt it all to the ground. The backdrop held two mountains, each with a giant tomb wall and door carved into them, for xerxes and darius. I took a bus to Shush.

Shush/Shushtar/Dizful:
I arrived in shush at 6am, it was still dark when I walked to the cheapest hotel in this tiny town. I waited for the hotel to open, a man walked out, I asked him how much a room costs he told me – $10 – I decided to hitchhike to the tourist site of this province instead of sleeping, the man offered me a convenient ride. I hitched three cars to get to where I wanted to go, unfortunately I left my big bag in one of the cars when he gestured for me to get out at a boomgate,I thought he wanted me to get out and pay, so I planned on getting back in the car before he zoomed off with my bag. Amazingly the guy ended up noticing that my bag was in the back and he drove all the way to the tourist site that I thankfully mentioned when I was in the car – Damn lucky. I arrived at the tourist site. It was an old ziggarut , four sided pyramid (or quadramid) thing that is actually an old christian relic unearthed by some french dudes – unfortunately for the french dudes, the weather turned bad and most of the unearthing broke down to become mud within the earth – with a smooth unattracting whistle they rebuilt the ziggarat with new bricks and hoped noone would notice. It was pretty noticable. It was also not a very big tourist attraction, some local guy in yazd told me about it, there were no visitors to this site – I was stuck in the middle of nowhere next to a brick shithouse. One of the ticket guys (who didnt charge me or give me a ticket) gave me a free tour of the… bricks – and then introduced me to his mates, who seemed to be building mud-brick constructions around the zig, most probably to make it look like they too were ancient constructions a few years later. After a few arabic words, hardshakes and smiles; they gave me a shovel and I helped them work for a bit, it felt good contributing to a pretend-ancient building. Gradually they all stopped work, served some chai and each person got out a container of different food – there was fish, chicken, rice, curry; all greatly nourishing after they force fed me until I could eat no more. With the plate of food and the cup of chai empty, I said goodbye and hitched a ride back to the main road by a photographer guy who rocked up to take some photos of the zig – my only way out arrived at a perfect time. I hitched to shushtar, the hotels were expensive so I kept hitching to disful. Once again the hotels were expensive… no couches to crash on and the weather was too cold to camp. I took an overnight bus to sleep and provide transport to Hamadan ($7).

Hamadan:
I arrived in a vague dream, it was dark and snowing, 5am. Nothing was open and I couldn’t keep my eyes open, I headed to a mosque, there were people preparing for the morning prayer – I gestured for sleep and they found a corner for me with a curtain and some blankets. 1 hour of blisful sleep, and then bam – the agonizing moans of muslim prayer, intensified because it was friday – the guy was practically crying over the loudspeaker, just behind the curtain. I was so tired that I slept through it until 8am, one of the mosque dudes gave me some bread with cheese and nuts and a nice cup of chai – I was most pleased. I thanked them profusely and headed out to heavy snow in search of a cheap hostel or hotel. All the places I checked out were full as it was an iran holiday for the next couple of days (they have something like 30 holidays a year, which makes up for the fact that they only have 1 day off a week, which is fridays). Feeling tired and lost, a local youth noticed me in the street, he couldnt help with accommodation but he helped me find a bus ticket to Tabriz (another overnighter) and let me rest at his house during the day. Later we went for a walk, I observed a game of footsol in the park; small-scale soccer game, the same as what was popular in indonesia. I thanked my day-host graciously and hopped on yet another overnight bus for tabriz, the snow was now very thick and from this point onwards I would see nothing but snow for the next month and a half.

Tabriz:
I arrived in Tabriz greeted by a couchhost! at last a response from couchsurfing, I was in great need of a shower and rest – unfortunately for me the host was working during the day, so I roamed around the city while waiting. Tabriz was a very clean and modern city, almost disconnected from the rest of iran, many people are azarians – more similar to azabajanians than iranians, and proud of the fact. Tabriz used to be the iranian capital, before it was invaded a few too many times so they decided to move the capital for strategic reasons – not to be in the corner of many other bordering nations. My host was a regional sales manager for a government funded cigarette company, his wife worked for the welfare system – she didnt like his unethical job, it was quite an odd scenario. I stayed in an apartment for myself which was owned by a friend of my host, I slept very well after a nice hot shower. I hiked up the mountain above tabriz the next day, the following day after this my host took me to a town 30km away which held dwellings carved out of caves within the faces of the many surrounding mountains – I was told this was similar to cappadocia in turkey, after visiting cappadocia I’d have to say the turkish ones were more impressive :).  I met a french guy in Tabriz who had been hitchhiking from france and was trying to make it all the way to antarctica with absolutely no money. He hitchhikes for transport, couchsurfs for accommodation and dumpster dives (looking in dumpsters) for clean food. He showed me a plastic air-gun that he keeps in his bag, for shooting pigeons which he eats for emergancy food. I was amazed at his ambitions, I was fairly certain I wouldn’t be attempting this extent of adventuring in my lifetime but wished him luck for his future. I won another $25 playing illegal poker in tabriz, bans on gambling just seem to produce quite a number of underground card games, just as the ban on alcohol forms many underground parties.

I hopped on the bus out of Iran, looking around as many businesses were going broke due to the economic sanctions and poor government decisions, The exchange rate went from 1600 tomans to the USD when I first arrived in iran, and by the end of my 25 day visit it was at 2200. I left the crippled but brilliant iran for the *green yet snowy christian fields of armenia.

*green yet snowy isn’t a metaphor for anything

I wake up in another town, another country – nihow, salam, priviet; how much does it cost, please show me on the calculator. Poruski Niet, I do not understand. Adjust the timezone, check the exchange rate, ignore the taxi drivers, Ignore the hawkers, Ignore the beggers; the art of looking forward, adapting to ignore the human sensory instinct, “Hey Hey, Mister”, “Taxi”, “Motorbike”, Ignore the beeping horns, Ignore the desperation. Do you have dorm accommodation? Do you have anything cheaper? Skula sum, Khe-lee pool – That is too expensive, Walk away, “Wait Mister Mister – $5”, Walk back. Find a way out, must keep moving, too expensive. Yes I am travelling alone, No I am not married, I am happy to walk, No the town is not far it is only 2km. No I do not want additional salad and additional rice that costs more than the main meal,  No we do not want to pay together please split the bill.. Please stop shouting at me – please stop dragging me to your taxi, please let go of my bag. Thankyou for the free ride, but I do not wish to be taken outside of the town to your friend’s expensive hotel in the middle of nowhere. No, I do not wish to partake in a tea ceremony. No I do not believe in allah, No I do not believe in god, I will repeat myself if you do not understand. Yes… Kangaroo, australia, Robota? I worked in computers back home, Yes Australia is good but it is very expensive, No I can’t take you to Australia. No I am not Iranian, that is not my passport photo; that is my iran visa, please turn to the first page of the passport. Tashakor, XieXie, Merci, Spaciba – Thankyou so much for your help, without people like you in this world, travelling would be much more difficult. I’m not sure why you are still speaking with me, it is quite clear that we have established that I do not understand your language and you do not understand mine. Yes I like your country a lot, No I do not think your neighbouring country is full of thieves and murderers.

The view from the bus from saraghs to mashhed was epic, vast giant snowless mountains which seem to put the country to scale, I had entered through these great mountainous walls to the new persian empire; An empire ruled by using religion as a basis for control with the people quietly terrified to stand up against it.

Every host that I stayed with, every person who approached me in the street, anyone who knew enough english to communicate – was vocally against the government and wished nothing more than change, one lady even whispered to me in the street ‘we are living in a prison’. Well, you might say, in most countries people are against the government to some degree, everyone whinges about high tax and poor choice of government spending – why is iran any different? Well, this is when I explain the problems and how suppressed individuals are.

Firstly, I arrived in the country knowing a bit about the issues, I knew that it was illegal for me to hold hands with a lady, anything more than that being highly illegal. When asking for directions to my host in mashhad, I purposefully asked males to avoid performing any crimes. When arriving at my host’s premises, I put my hand out to shake the female host’s hand (a couple hosted me) she was hesitant, but shook anyway – we entered the house, then she explained that simply shaking hands with the opposite sex is illegal. The list goes on ->

– Women aren’t allowed to enter a football match, this is to curb the mingling with males

–  Couples must show proof of marriage if walking together in the street, camping, or pretty much anything; else face harsh penalties. I met a couple on the train from mashhad to tehran the guy is iranian and the girl is sweedish, they met in malaysia and had been living there for many years, when in mashhad they were arrested when simply walking down the street together, not even holding hands. The girl was sent to a prison cell filled with iranian women, some of them were quite conservative wearing black chadors (full body cloaks, except for a small part of the face) – some of these chador clad ladies were crying, confused and scared as to why they were there. The couple were freed after a few hours, after confirmation that they are both tourists.

– All women must cover their heads. Many ladies only seem to cover the back of their head, showing a full head of hair at the front, in a quiet protest. Tourists must abide by this rule as well. Chadors must be worn to mosques. When crossing the border from Iran to armenia, all the ladies in the bus took off their headscarves almost as soon as they walked over the border line.

– Playing cards is illegal, as there is a slight chance that there may be gambling going on. A neighbour has the power to dob you in if he/she suspects sinister card dealings.

– Chess and Pool used to be illegal, these days chess is fine, it was banned in the early days of the revolution as sometimes it was used as an outlet for gambling. With pool, only recently it’s been grey-area’d – very difficult to find pool halls, it took us a good hr of driving around checking a list of addresses that used to have pool halls; Pool was banned due to a mix of gambling and, heaven forbid, women were entering the manly realms. This is all nonsense, poor excuses as a method to curb any kind of thought or emotion, the death of fun.

– All forms of transport have segments specifically for women, some city buses and trains have barriers denying entry to the male compartments. On buses that travel to neighbouring towns people generally just hop on the bus without arranged tickets with seat numbers, men and women cant sit next to each other, I was frequently moved to other seats that free up the original seat to strategically suit the placement of other women; I felt like I was forced into playing a game of retarded musical chairs.

– Alcohol is illegal, there is sweet tasting non-alcoholic beer in most shops that claim proudly to have 0.0% alcohol. They actually taste alright, as long as you aren’t expecting anything with a remote beer-like taste. There is a large drug problem in iran as it can be just as illegal as alcohol, if bribes are paid. I was hosted by people who drank alcohol, whiskey smuggled in from Pakistan mainly, they drank it very quickly, as if they had to destroy the evidence quickly. Punishment for alcohol without paying a bribe is 100 (can’t remember, don’t quote me) lashes of the whip.

– Homosexuality is not accepted. The government treats this ‘condition’ by sending gay individuals to a clinic to be treated with hormones, not unsimilar to a rehab clinic.

– Television is all religious and completely biased, from what I gathered from watching the nightly news, The syrian uprisings were terrorists attacks against the syrian government – they would zoom in on broken riot shields that have blood stained glass. Many people install satellite dishes to get some real (well, closer to real) information about the world, the police routinely gain access to apartment roofs and attempt to damage them. These days people just replace the centre core when they get damaged, and keep the dish.

– Iranian internet is practically unuseable, it’s almost a joke to have it connected; every single website that I normally access from other countries is blocked, almost everyone uses a proxy to make the internet useful. Google.com works, however the initial page is a fake google search page hosted by the iranian government, it then redirects to the real google when you click search, a method of tracking people’s searches.

– Job promotion in government and some non government industries requires obedience to the religious conservative rules; I met an iranian architect who couldnt get a promotion simply because she didn’t wear a chador to work (she just wore a headscarf), or attend ceremonies at the mosque frequently enough.

Certain mosques preach “Death to America” propaganda, people tend to go along with it. I heard about an american guy who witnessed one of these announcements, then the locals noticed he was a foreigner, they asked him where he’s from; he let them know that he’s american, they then warmly welcomed him to their country with open arms. Quite a contradiction.

I began to feel very confined and restricted for the first few days, until the people started to notice me, the only reason I kept travelling through iran was for the amazing hospitality of the people, there is a massive contrast between the values of the government and of the people.

Culturally they have this thing called Tar’of, where someone may offer too much but expect the offer to be declined about three times before they actually intend on offering it. I encountered this strange cultural trait for the first time in mashhad, I ordered a sandwich (there are more sandwich shops in iran than kebab shops) and after attempting to communicate, the shop attendant offered me tea; I accepted and attempted to communicate further, then he decided that my meal is completely free. This is a prime example of Tar’of, I declined twice, then he quickly retracted the offer and nothing more was said. It takes a bit of getting used to.

People in the street will sometimes offer their place to stay and there are so many couchhosts in the country it is extremely easy to find homely accomodation. The hosts pay for everything, it reminded me of indonesia – Helpful, warm, generous people. I felt as if they were trying to prove that they are not what the western media portrays.

Many iranians are immigrating to mainly canada or australia, there are lot of well educated people – everyone who knew a bit of english seemed to have an intelligent free-thinking way about them. The issue is, the people who could make change in iran are the ones fleeing for better lands.

There was a protest a few years back by the green movement, protesting the fact that the elections only list right wing religious candidates on the ballat sheets – many of the protesters were killed. People who actively campaign against the government seem to go away for a while and return as different people, rumour has it that the government uses methods of torture to break the rebels. Due to this, the people of the country seem to just endure the hardships, too afraid to stand up united even though a vast majority want drastic change. With the economic sanctions in place, I feel as if something may happen soon, if and when it does – I fear for what will happen to the amazing Persians that I have met.

Turkmenistan! when the soviet union collapsed, most ex-soviet countries took a rational look at what can be done to fix what was left over – The Turkmenistan appointed leader from USSR decided to go batshit crazy instead. He renamed days of the week to the names of his family members and banned radios in cars. He also constructed heaps of golden statues in his image with different poses and placed them all throughout the cities of his land, one with his jacket thrown over his shoulder, one sitting down with his legs crossed, one of his mother looking like mother mary holding the baby leader; the baby seemed to have the face of a man. The old leader died a few years back and with the new guy in charge I believe we travelled through the country during a drastic period of change, many buildings were brand new, including very flash train stations and nice mosaic-tiled bus stops; the people seemed to be reasonably happy and free too. It was a strange country though, although oddly modern when compared with most of Uzbekistan.

Reporters without Borders rates Turkmenistan second last in a list ranking press-freedom, north korea being the last on the list. All newspapers seem to have the current leader on the front page and there is only one internet cafe in each city, which requires passport ID before logging in to a heavily filtered net connection.

So, we arrived in Turkmenibat, went to the only hotel that seems to allow foreigners that didn’t look too flash and paid a good 5x more than what the locals pay, they didn’t even try to hide it, it seemed to be one of the countries laws. It cost $20 for a room with two single beds, we got it this cheap because we convinced the lady that we will only use one bed and one of us will sleep on the floor, somehow she trusted us; it’s pretty easy to sleep on a bed and make it look untouched afterwards. The room was probably the worst I had seen during my travels, the whole building looked like it was about to fall apart, very paper-street-esque.

We took a train to mary (ma-ree) and unfortunately for us, arrived at around 9pm – the only place of sleep we could find had a price of $40 each, we decided to go to a pub and ponder the qualm over pints of flat 30c beer. To our surprise the problem wasn’t solved after 4 pints, the bar was closing; then out jumped a local guy to our aide, he said that he can let us sleep on his floor as long as we get out at 6am, we agreed. We arrived at the apartment, and so did two bottles of vodka almost out of nowhere, which did not remain full for long. The local mafia (according to our hosts) rocked up and sat us down in the living room, they seemed to question us about our loyalties to america, asking us if we like obama, then one seemed to mime bomb explosions and mentioned iraq. They let us go after we convincingly explained that we have no allegiance to the US, I was quite happy about their decision. Afterwards they let us sleep in a different room only to be woken 1hr later… our agreed time of departure, 6am. Stumbling outside with our bags, I felt one of the nastiest hangovers in a few years, it took pretty much the whole day finding alternative accommodation for $10 each, quite a lucky find too.

The next day we met with some couchsurfers, all seemed to be american NGO workers for a group called ‘Peace Corps’, an NGO that is funded by the US government – quite a paradox. The crew explained some of the dilemmas they face working in turkmenistan, one of them mentioned that they found a bug (electronic) in their apartment not long ago, apparently many pubs and restaurants that are frequented by foreigners are bugged – although the NGOs (not US spies *cough*) didn’t seem too concerned about this, as the government is mainly worried about the information that the locals gain, the heavy punishments going to them instead of the foreigners.

One of the highlights of Turkmenistan was rocking up to a cheap motel pub to find that it moonlighted as a brothel for the iranian truck drivers, we arrived during one of the prostitute’s birthdays and managed to sit at the main table, eating the left overs from the night which included caviar; we guessed that the girls were paid a decent amount. Some guy lit fireworks within the pub, almost setting my scarf on fire.

The next day was new years, we spent the night being sober as by the time we went to find a pub or bottle shop – everything was closed, everyone seems to be with their families during new years – not drinking like there is no tomorrow. Crazy customs. There were, however, enough dangerous fireworks fired that night to cause an earthquake.

We left Turkmenistan over some of the worst roads I had encountered so far, upon arriving in Iran, I parted ways with the crazy czech. I was very happy to be on my own again, through what was to be the most interesting country I had come across; the new islamic persian empire.

Alright, I’m eager to blog about Iran – so I’m going to summarize Uzbekistan, as it’s mainly an isolated desert wasteland, many long bus journeys and a lack of communication with locals.

Khiva:
Tashkent->Organch->Khiva: ~$16

An ancient town in a dry desert, maintained as a tourist attraction, hotels within the old towns. A room with two single beds cost $10, so $5 each – the cheapest accommodation we could get in all of uzbek. Most of the time there was no hot water and we experienced 1hr blackouts every 4 or so hours, it seems that most of uzbek has the same power issues except for the capital city, tashkent. Khiva was old and impressive, but it was a bit themeparky – no legitimate businesses resided inside the old walls other than souvenir shops and hotels, the museums were cheap and tacky with no useful information. We didn’t stay long.

Moynuk:
Organch->Nukus->Kungrad->Moynuk ~$4

A collection of very cheap local buses later, after standing for 5hrs or so cramped between some overly invasive uzbekistanians (one guy was drunk, kept touching me and my belongings, then bought my water for an inflated price and sculled the whole litre – I was worried that he was going to piss in the bus afterwards, thankfully he didn’t) we finally arrived in a ghosttown called moynuk. The only hotel in this tiny town had no power when we arrived at night, most of the town had no power; this blackout latest the entire night. In the morning we were told there is water available for the town for only one hr a day (7am-8am), and it was used only for washing dishes and clothes; too polluted for anything else. You may be wondering right now what brought us to this place, well, 30yrs ago the town of moynuk was a thriving fishing port, situated on the banks of the aral sea, what used to be the 4th largest inland sea in the world… however as of today there is about 2% of the sea remaining.

You may now be asking how the hell an entire sea can dry up, well the soviet union constructed dams and irrigation channels directing water that normally flows into the sea from the mountains in the north; and channeled the water instead to farmland in the uzbek fields, for the immense cotton production. The problem with this is that uzbekistan is a very dry country and cotton is a very thirsty crop, the farmland required more water to sustain the agriculture, which hastily caused an entire sea to dry up. Today there are frequent ‘salt storms’ the wind blows ice and salt throughout the region and the effects of the dried sea is creating another desert to link up with the north eastern uzbek desert.

To make matters worse, the soviets used powerful pesticides such as DDT which is still today causing issues with contaminated water supplies. To make matters even worse, the soviets decided to use an island in the sea for testing chemical and biological weapons, the testing wiped out much of the wildlife in the area. I think that central asia was used as a testing site for pretty much everything they could think to test, perhaps even with the people as guinea pigs?

We walked down to the banks of the sea to find ships stranded on the dry sea bed, the haunting sound of salted wind whispered to us as we observed the spooky relics of an eternally lost age of prosperity in Uzbekistan. Yup, it was a moment worthy of fancy poetics.

Nukus:
Moynuk->Nukus ~$4

Met some russians in a hotel ($8 for a dorm bed), drank a fair amount of vodka. Took a bus to Bukhura the next day.
Now, the bus ride was quite something, it was run by a couple of charismatic iranians; the bus was very close to being unusable, none of the seats were in-tact, there was a giant hose coming from the back of the bus down the isle then back under the bus at the front, I assumed it was some kind of patch repair job. The bus was also very fumey and freezing cold, it seemed like the two guys running it were cowboys, reminded me of firefly a bit. 3hrs into the journey and the bus broke down, it took another 3hrs for the repair work – I had a feeling that this probably happens during every trip. The what was meant to be 8hr trip ended up taking about 15hrs… just to get to the border of the province, we arrived at the border at 10pm and the bus parked at a rest stop, everyone got out to have some dinner; we were ready to hop back in when one of the guys on the bus let us know that we will be here until 6am! as in, sitting or sleeping on the restaurant chairs for the next 8hrs!. We inquired as to why this is happening, turns out that there is a 10pm curfew for buses (and possibly cars) rather inconvenient. All up, the trip took 23hrs, when it was meant to take 8.

Bukhura:
Nukus->Bukhura ~$10

Really impressive old town that is truely functional, ancient buildings and heaps of mosquey things, bukhura was the capital of the timur empire which reached as far as europe. Timur was a turkish-uzbek dude who did pretty much the same thing as Genghis khan, after the Genghis empire, except noone seems to remember him because he wasn’t the first guy to rape and slaughter asia and europe originating from central/northern asia. He converted to islam and calmed down a bit, hence the many mosques. We stayed in a room for $12 ($6 each).

Nurota:
Bukhura->Navoi->Nurota ~$4

A few more busses and one small mountain range, we arrived at a tiny town called Nurota, Alexander the great built a castle here and married an uzbek lady. We hiked up the very worn castle hill, there were no signs anywhere with information and nothing to point is in the right direction (although it was pretty easy to see from the town). There was, however, a giant mosque at the base of the hill with a holy spring that contained holy trout which should never be fished out, else face the wrath of Allah.  This kind of overshadows the true significance of the extremely old castle. On the way down we spotted a museum; I was eager to read all about alexander the great in this region, unfortunately the museum was full of islamic artifacts, there was not one piece of information about the castle. I found that in many places within central asia, the islamic history tended to take over all other history or culture. There were no hotels allowing foreigners in Nurota, so our plans to hike through the mountains fell through. We hitchhiked back to Navoi, then took a bus all the way to Samarkand.

Samarkand:
Navoi->Samarkand ~$2

We checked into a hostel after walking 1.5hrs from the bus station, the dorm had no heating and the temperature all through uzbekistan was getting mighty cold. On the second night it felt so cold that I piled blankets from all the spare beds in the dorm, on top of me. Upon waking, I put my boots on and I could hear cracking of ice, the sweat on the inner fur of the boots had frozen; later that day I found out that the temperature that night got as low as -15c!
Samarkand was fairly average, more impressive mosquey things some of which had large christmas trees infront of them (new years trees actually, during the stalin days all mosques and churches were destroyed, traditions renamed. Father christmas is known is ‘Father Frost’). On the third night we decided to get into the vodka with a couple of other backpackers, suddenly a pipe burst in the ceiling and water came flooding down, we played ‘Magic Fountain’ by Art Vs Science on the laptop and proceeded to dance around the table, before deciding to get bucket. Vodka seemed to be the only way to attempt to warm up.

Next was the return to tashkent, visa pickup was uneventful – I cooked dinner for my hosts on christmas night, for them it was just another ordinary day. We took a bus back to bukhura, spent one night there, then headed for the turkmenistan border. The crossing was uneventful, they didn’t check registration at all (which is a good thing, because I had nothing for the couchsurfing nights) and, as all central asian police and border control officers seem to do, they checked my Iran visa (which has a nice photo of me on the visa itself) instead of actually checking my main passport page – proof that they have no idea what they’re doing.

We were in Turkmenistan! rated 2nd last in the Journalists-Without-Borders ranking of the press freedom of countries, North Korea being the last. Although it wasn’t anything like North Korea…