Today I would have made my last bike trip in Iran. In my plan, I would have gone farer than Bastak yesterday, to make the last part to B. Lengeh (150km) shorter and to sleep in my tent for a last time. On the next day, I would have looked for a nice place on a beach to touch the water of the Persian Gulf and swim.
Instead, I made my first walk in Lar to make further steps in recovering. (As a boy, I once avoided a test on a Thursday by becoming “ill” on Sunday before. I was lying in bed all day and in the end, I really felt like ill. Since that time, I know that the right mixture of rest and activity for the respective day is essential for good recovery.
In the morning, all that kindness and efforts of Majid and Sedigheh overwhelmed me emotionally. I was in tears (and not for the first time on this trip…).
Now I went to the new Bazar, a kind of copy of the old one, but in one stretch and a bit sterile, to find flowers and some sweets for a “thank you!”
In all four sections, I couldn’t find these things, there were only shops presenting artificial flowers. On the way back outside the Bazar I saw another flower shop, but no real flowers. In the next street I asked a passer-by, and with the help of another man I got directions (confirmed by a third man) back to the last flower shop. And inside, there was a showcase with some flowers. The man from before on the street, who could talk English had also come and helped with translation. He asked if I would need anything else and gave me the directions to a confectionary.
The shop keeper gave his best to make a beautiful bouquet and several times, I thought he would be finished, but again he added something.
As happy owner of an a bit kitschy bunch of flowers with glitter and ribbons, I went on to look for the confectionary. When I was trying to find out if one shop was the meant one, the man who had helped me twice before, again was at hand and pointed on the shop two buildings ahead. I told the shop assistances my wish and showed them my money for the appropriate selection. They showed me a beautiful box and I expected they would have looked for a box near to my price limit, but they hadn’t. An even happier guy left 4 smiling men who had not the idea of taking profit of a stranger. I have to say that I always had such experiences and never feared to be cheated in Iran. My friends were more worried about me in this and other regards than their fellow Iranians deserve.
I came home and soon after I had finished my last parts from breakfast, Sedigheh had prepared new pales of food as lunch, the two small pieces of chicken I had meant to be capable to eat turned to two plates with meat, one with chicken, one with beef.
It was more than enough for lunch and dinner and I begged to preserve the rest for breakfast.
Majid tried to get my bike in his car, and it worked, so he can bring me to B. Lengeh without renting another car. Still, it is hard to accept this generous offer! He will have to drive for 5-6h and the second part is at night. But Iranian hospitality has nearly no limits…
In the evening, Majid suggested a short tour in the city with the family. We landed at a fast food restaurant with a master of preparing bread like that after Museum in Evaz.
Half an hour before, I had given back the food I could not finish (and later I had to realize that I had eaten too much), but Majid and Sedigheh were surprised that I didn’t want to eat dinner (it was 22:30, by the way).
So, I just enjoyed the show of the man preparing that bread with precise, very fast and elegant movements.
At home, we had one of those sad and difficult talks about migration to one of those promised lands, providing houses and jobs to those who come. In many of these cases I wonder why people want to give up there cosy and generous cheap homes and good social contacts for a life in an unfriendly environment where sometimes half of the income has to be invested in renting a small apartment. Struggling in life doesn’t stop, it only becomes different. For some, the political situation, the lack of freedom, is a strong motivation. I can understand this. But in average, there is no better life in Europe for those, who now can live a middle-class life in Iran.
Majid was deeply unsettled and we agreed to talk again the next day.
