Planalto Cycles

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.

It would have been more or less impossible and for sure very unreasonable to continue the tour to Bastak (125km) and further to Bandar Lengeh (150km). My fever maybe is only suppressed by the medicaments and every 1-2 hours I would need a toilet and in return a lot of water.
But Majid had also thought about that and made a plan. He would bring me by car directly to Bandar Lengeh on Tuesday afternoon (23.10.) and by that I would gain several days for recovering and still would have time for orientation (where is the office of the ferry company and the port) and the necessary paper work.
I feel helpless and very grateful at the same time.
I still staid in bed most of the time but felt much better. In the evening, I started again with writing blog and fighting with upload problems. Some pics didn’t upload several times, others are now double.
I ate enough to make Sedigheh a little less worried and even smile a bit.
Normally, I slowly and noisy got out of my room to give her time to cover her hair, but one time it was Taha (8) and Matin (5 or 6) who were just in underwear and ran to their room startledly when they saw me. I felt sorry for them and explained (including a picture of boys on a pool) that for me this is very normal. They could laugh with me ?
In the evening, I also made some research about the 4 different types of pill I got. I feared that it would be an antibiotic and one indeed was. This is common in many countries and the overuse of antibiotics and the incorrect usage by many clients bring severe problems to the health system. I will have to take it completely. With the help of my dear friend Sima in Austria, who studies medicine, I found out that I even got 2 antihistamines what surprised me, as I didn’t know about any issue according to that. But Sima supposed that the doctor could have heard something in my lungs and so I will continue this, too. And the last drug is against fever and pain. I still can feel something in my body, so it is not overdosed.
When I tried to sleep, a strange phenomenon occurred: as soon as I closed my eyes I had a kind of nightmare without even sleeping. I had to open my eyes to get rid of it, but it came back immediately after closing my eyes again. It took a while until I slept, and those hallucinations turned to normal nightmares. One was, that I was captured by a man who wanted to do bad things to me and I was to weak to move. In a last effort I could get my arm free and woke up in the same moment, realizing that I had been lying on it. At four in the morning, daily life starts with praying and from that on I only sometimes had a light sleep but at least also no nightmares. ?

Majid would have plans for this Friday, everyone had a free day, but I needed a special free day. They could see that I am ill and began to worry. I was optimistic to get better after a day of rest and sleep. Sedigheh tried her best to make me eat again and I could not even imagine eating, by that making me sorry and making her worry even more. The day continued like this. So, in the evening, suddenly two men came in, and after examination, they said I should go to hospital. I could feel that I had less fever but now I was not sure enough to become well again without hospital as soon as everybody wished, so I agreed.
There, thee doctor again measured my blood pressure (of course low) controlled my throat, lung and intestines and asked some questions. He then said I would have a virus infection and the treatment is a passive one (he used the right word, I don’t remember now). I thought that would mean to go home, as you cannot do much.
But instead I was led to another room with beds to lay down.

How my camera realizes the feeling of headache, fever and dizziness

Now I thought I really would be kept overnight. A nurse came in and said I would get two injections. I presented my arm and she said, no, in the leg. Now I uncovered what I considered to be my leg, but finally I understood and uncovered my very upper leg. I was surprised to get such a treatment by a female in Iran as I had thought only men treat men and women treat women in Iran. So, I had good luck to get rid of another misunderstanding ? Next was an infusion

which took a big while to get finished and after that again to the doctor. He gave 4 different types of pills and a complex schedule of when to take what and in that situation as a whole (ill, everyone caring, other country, hard to communicate) I didn’t ask if there is some antibiotic (often prescribed, and if I take it I should complete it). He gave me reasonable tips for diet (today I was allowed to fast, tomorrow maybe rice, soup and yoghurt) and then we left.
In front of the hospital two cars waited, the whole family was here, even the younger brother of Taha, Matin (I had not mentioned him before).
We went home and for better fasting I was kindly offered food, it was so nice, but now it was less hard to say no, because “the doctor had said”.

I left this quiet friendly couple (who will be a family in a few months) for my last bike ride until Malaysia (see following posts).

Somayeh: “My eyes are not open!”

Martin “now all eyes are very open”

On the way, sometimes I saw strange looking buildings

and hoped the do not belong to a top-secret underground don’t-know-what and/or nobody sees that I take a picture.

Around the next of these buildings sheep flocked and after that I was quite sure to be on the safe side.
The next what I saw was written “Bandar Lengeh 340km”.

According to my calculation, it should have been less but I still had to go on to Lar and I remember street sign in wrong positions (when Nader and I would have hoped it would be only 30km left but it was more).
ACS and a man came out for asking “the” questions and as an answer he got my information paper. Then he asked his daughter to come out for a photo and a selfie.

she first was very shy when her father wanted to take a picture but then she kew how to pose

Those encounters are still nice for me, as the show me those friendly people of this country. But I would wish to have shadow in these moments – the sun seems to be much stronger when you stand instead of biking. (Later that day I felt cold enough)
My phone didn’t work until I arrived in Lar, but a man on a motorcycle who had been talking to me showed me a shop for charging my phone (I had hoped he would bring me to an Irancell shop but in the end it was ok) The man in the shop cared for more customers at the same time and between that, my phone revived. I don’t know if there is any connection to what he did, because he still tried something (and when he got back to other customers, I quickly put out messages to Arash and Majid) and in the end he gave up. But I had what I needed – contact to my host Majid in Lar.
The location he had sent was so exact that I landed in front of his house, his elder son, Taha was near and smiled, the door opened and a woman started talking to me in Farsi and slowly I realized that these were not friendly neighbours but family Abbasi. Majid came soon after me. His niece Bahar and his wife Sedigeh prepared a meal and I don’t know why I didn’t find a good time to take a shower, maybe that would have been better? (See later)
Anyway, I liked the food the funny pudding and special drinks (for example self-made carrot juice with ice cream topping) but it was too much to even try everything ?
Majid offered a tour to old Lar (after the big earthquake 50y ago a new Lar in very rectangular form had been constructed). We went to the old (I think he said 500y) Bazaar

Majid with Taha at the Bazaar crossing

…saying something like “closed because of prayer time”

and he showed me that compared to the bazaar, the street level was rising over the years, so the bazaar needs some stairs down to be reached.

When we walked on, Majid showed be a building similar to the not so secret once on my way but made of clay instead of concrete and he told me that it was for water storage.

Many destroyed houses were to see mainly on the hill-side

We went up a hill to the remains of a castle,

and then back home
Maybe you can guess it was time for another fruit and tea session but not the ranginak that Majid’s sister Maryam had prepared!

I wish I could have eaten more but it was impossible.
Then we left to the city Evaz (40km from Lar) for dinner. In Evaz, Majid explained that we first would visit a museum. We came there and around 10 people were waiting for us and later also an English teacher came specially to translate the information for me.
There were so many interesting things to see and a photographer making lots of pictures and so many friendly people who had made efforts to show me this place, so I tried to go on although I was very tired and exhausted.

cradle with safety belts

bride and groom had to sit on that and important things for marriiage were in it

only before marriage, girls started to remove hairs from their faces, with these tools

friends decorated this special room for bride and groom and the should not leave that room for seven days – this family didn’t stay so long

in front of the 3-door wall, looking at the 5-door wall

paintings on the 5-door wall. Said to be original but look renovated

utensils to make babies swallow liquids properly

one who would need support (money for renovation and exhibition), one who could give and one with best connetions

After the tour they asked me to sign the guest book

and when we were leaving the house, one of the guides and “my” translator wanted to show me a special bread of this city. I indeed only wanted to see and maybe smell it I couldn’t imagine eating anymore.

Meanwhile also the family was too tired for restaurant and so they had at least this bread. On the way home, I started to feel a bit uncomfortable and cold but didn’t care too much as I thought we would be at home after a while.
Then I finally took my shower and started freezing and hoped in bed it would become better. I was shivering in chills and so tired that I had to force me to get more clothes and then even more and then it turned feeling hot and finally I knew it was not only being tired, exhausted and a weak circulation or so, I was ill now. To make things more interesting I had to visit the toilet every hour. The Iranian toilet is a challenge for me in any case but now it was very hard, but I had no other choice than to do what has to be done.

Before 6.a.m., Arshua, the son of the family came to wake me up and very soon after I was ready, he came to get me for breakfast, Ahdiye had already prepared. But besides that, she also had prepared nuts and fruits for me for the tour.

In the garden, they showed me their lemontree and Kakitree and again gave me some.

Then I left to the next city on my way, Bonoruyeh.
This time, a truckdriver wanted to make selfies, and later, a man stopped his car to offer help (I tried to make the SIM card work) and gave me his number if I would need help. But my only problem was that the phone didn’t work and it is hard to call for help in this case in that matter ?

The mountains had a different structure, looking like melting.

For the first time, I had started a day tour and not filled up my waterbottles. I ate some apples instead and found out, that those speared dates were hard outside but you could suck liquid out of it. Well, only date-size quantities and not too many dates caught by the leaves.

My camera apperently was inspired by Arash’s creativity (at Hafes shrine) and here are some of those photos, uneditet.

it turned to normal, later.

And then, when I was near Bonoruyeh, my phone came back to life by itself and at the right time, as Jamid Abbasi, who would have hosted me there, had contacted another friend, Hassan, and I was not long finished with writing, when Hassan came by car to fetch me. I followed a car, but this time only for short and most probably for the last time in Iran (see later posts!)
Again, there was a so good lunch to eat and it was nice to see Hassan and Somayeh sharing a plate (They always do it like that 🙂 ). Somayeh has two of the best occupations to think of, she is midwife and teacher for first aid, so near the essence of life. And Hassan is (besides other things) architect, what was first to see at is own house, later he showed me some houses of his plannings in Bonoruyeh. And both are so young!
A friend came for a short visit, she is English teacher and then Hassan offered me to rest. I tried but was too restless for rest. So, I tried to update the blog, but again the connection was gone.
We visited the caravanserai, which would be one of a few in this style but the would need money for restauration and doesn’t get. When Hassan and I got there, some men where there, too, to show and explain and again an English teacher, Ayup Rahpayma for translation. One of them, Salman Bashkar, had made a website for this and other treasure they want to preserve.

Ayup shows from the hole to the middle were the water was lead to for the animals

Salman, life editing for website and in the back rooms in different sizes for less or more important travellers, but all for free

On the mountain behind that, you could see remains of the king’s castle.We went on to a huge square with a clay “fencing” of 2-4m which are the leftovers of a10m wall around the very old town.

only when looking hard you can see the wall between trees and mountain

here, in old times, a well had been digged

the well

Then I also saw parts of the old town, so that I got an overview of four layers of Bonoryeh. But here I had to give up and we went home, having dinner for three on two plates and some talk of three persons and digital assistance.
Then I started my homework (editing and writing, you know) but I was too tired to continue.

The day started quite normal for Iran, with a nice breakfast and fruits and nuts for my trip. First exception was, that Hamid and his father went to the Sasand palace with me, they by car, I by bike. I left earlier and tried to be fast but after 20min they caught up and then, for the last 3km, we went together (video will follow in November).

In the beginning, we had been the only visitors and the Guard/guide showed us virtual pictures of the original palace and beautiful night photos.
Then Hamid and his father went back and I went on.
The road was quite straight and the surroundings dry as usual, but after a time you could see more and more olive trees. I decided to sit under one to eat what Shoreh had prepared but I so far had had no chance to eat it. It was chicken with vegetables and I was glad and surprised that it still was good after a day in the sun, were the water in my bottles had become nearly hot.

Later, I saw something looking like apples (sometimes farmers throw away lots of fruits and vegetables, some still good) but it was something looking like cucumber or pumkin and then I realized it is something wild growing there, without any visual source of water.

On the map, Arash and I had seen a part, when the komoot route went off the main road and he said I should stay on the main road and I also wanted to do that. But in the last moment, I decided to follow the way Mr.G showed. And I didn’t regret as I came through a green beautiful valley, Maybe called Khavaran and after all that dry area like paradice.

In the afternoon, it was a bit harder to go as the wind was stronger and I made a break in the small shadow of a traffic signal. Acs (=a car stopped), two man started talking to me, and I tried to find an apple and refill my active drinking bottle (active = the one I can reach during cycling). When they went away, I also took a picture along the road and went on.
After maybe 10min a police car arrived and reduced speed. A smiling officer said hello and only when I asked, it was clear that they wanted me to stop cycling. The officer came to me and asked for my phone. He wanted to see the pictures but was not satisfied. Then he pointed at to high buildings behind us and said that I had been taking a picture of them. I thought it is better to be cooperative to make it short and showed him my camera. He checked the last photos and didn’t see those buildings, because they were only small spots. I showed them to him and he said I should delete the pic.

the official alternative to the top-secret photo

Later, I saw that he had taken a picture by himself. Not the best or most interesting one, but a souvenir 😀

Then he took some loooong looks at my passport but didn’t find what he was looking for (Before, he had asked me if I am Russian). And I thought that I can go on now. But instead they began to lift my bike on the car and even asked me for help. The bike was too long but with police force, the officer tried to make it shorter or in other way fit in. It was not nice to look at that!
Then they offered me a backseat and drove to Jahrom. So, in the end I cannot say it was a trip made only by bike and ship, because 20km were made by police car.
At the police station, they made a protocol and handed me over to another officer, who also studied passport and also my information paper from Negin, making a selfie with me (without asking, but ok) and even told me to turn off my phone. We sat for a while. Then the next officer came. He was the first who could speak a little English. I was not really afraid or so, just nervous, because I had tried to be fast in Jahrom for meeting Jamal who wanted to show me some places. However, the officer said to me that it is no big problem, if I am only tourist and nothing else. And he looked deeply, earnest and searchingly in my eyes, so that I became a little bit unsecure whether I am really only tourist and my eyes would bespeak it. He told me we would have to wait 2 hours, but he allowed me to contact Jamal, Arash’s friend in Jahrom whom I wanted to meet at 4. And he allowed Jamal to come. Meanwhile he showed how slow and intense you can read each and every page of a passport, even the empty ones. He did it twice from front to back and back to front and again. By that, he could fill 15min or so. Then he read slowly and apparently concentrated the information letter but after that asked me questions about things he should have found there. As a good teacher, I showed him the according passage on the paper, but as a good person in police custody, I also answered his questions. Next, they saw the gopro and I explained that it is a camera but doesn’t work anymore (yes, since today I cannot know if it is on or off and it doesn’t react properly) But they were totally satisfied to know by me that it doesn’t work anymore ?
After a while we went into the office to meet another man who made the second report. It started with my name but after “Martin”, the writer just wrote something similar to what he had heard (but he couldn’t repeat it, so it will be something interesting but not my name) Jamal and his son Ali arrived, Ali could translate, and Jamal could talk to the officer which made the friendly but clumsy conversation a bit more fluent. They looked at every picture on my camera and then wanted Ali to ask me what I have in my bags. I didn’t want to mention my PC to make things not longer than necessary, so first asked if they want to know everything. I started with clothes and food and then said, “some technical equipment, but at this point they were tired enough of my enumeration and stopped it, before I could say “Computer”. Then, Jamal and I should sign the writing and for them it was ok, that I didn’t know what is written in it. For me, in that situation and its funny details it was also ok to sign that paper and then I was set free. Jamal asked me to change my clothes, because of the places we would visit and so I was allowed to go to the back office of the police station to do that.
Again a free man, I followed Jamal’s car to his school (he is the manager and once also was teacher of his own son, Ali)

There we met Muhammed, a teacher for tennis and English and Rahim Khodajoo, ex-football professional (once making a goal vs South-Korea at the WM) and now manager of Jahrom sport department. Our first visit was the man-made cave at the near mountain, the biggest of the world. Its purpose was to gain stones for building the houses, but by that creating a cave with chambers and columns over ~200 years is a unique project!

please turn the camera horizontal (fits into the blog)

I would have imagined that the people would have also created a tradition of cave-bound festivities but only at New Year they use it for gatherings.
From the cave, you could see a mixture of mountain and palace, a system being destroyed by conquering Arabs.

We went on to a Zarathustrian Fireplace that had not been destroyed but islamized.

Next stop was the old Bazaar.

Jamal, Rahim, Martin, Mohammed

It was a very strange situation when those local authorities were greeted by so many shop keepers and passers-by and I got my share of this importance as it suggested I also would be some personality. In the dark, we then went uphill to the “Roof of Jahrom” with a memorial for soldiers of the Iraq-war from 1980-88.

Then we had dinner in a very nice restaurant. It first was crowded by groups of girls busy with hookahs but around 8 or so they apparently had to go home.

Before we did they same, we had to go back to school for my bike. And there, the tortured bike-stand broke. The next bike shop was very close, and I got a new one.

In the Bazaar, I had bought salty dried shrimps and thought that I still have enough money in my purse, but now I saw that I would have to look for my reserve in the bike bags. Jamal helped me also in this situation with the rest of the money.
These photos, I got later by whatsapp. You see the bicycle repairman and some boys who also took lots of selfies 😉

First, I had thought I would stay at school overnight, then I guessed it would be with the family, but in no case, I would have had the idea that I would stay at that place we now were going to. According to my new hobby, I followed a car (Jamal’s) with now the complete family. This was funny in the beginning, because after a short time of following, I got the feeling it was the wrong car, as not Ali but his mother was sitting on the front seat. Jamal had told me that I would stay with another family in a house that is also a kind of resort. In fact, it is a kind of museum in fairy-tale castle -style, and they also call it Bazarkan museum

All rooms were designed with love for the detail. Besides the family, there also was a young French tourist who would share the room with me. It had been late before and I had been tired since afternoon, but I was delayed with my blog anyway, so I tried to write for a while, but at 1:15a.m. I had to give up.

Arash and Negin (and Nikoo ?) did a great job when saying goodbye, hiding sad emotions and at the same time warm. I was really grateful, because the imagination of that moment had troubled me (especially after the Arak-goodbye with grandfather…). Still, I had to hide in the room for some minutes before taking the next step.
I went down with my bags, prepared the bike and went up to say goodbye to Shoreh and Amir. The evening before, they had been talking about the water symbol (like in Arak) and the Quran ritual (like in Tabriz). Arash wanted to do both and therefore would have waited for my departure, but I had asked him to leave before me.
When I was at the door and looked back, Shoreh stood by the window and then poured down this water. The equivalent was in my eyes when I biked away.
Then I was in the morning traffic of Shiraz that was chaotic as always but for me also friendly and peaceful, they all just want to go and look for the best way.
It was slightly going down most of the time and I didn’t want to stop for hours, not hungry, not tired, nothing hindering me from biking on and on.
Only the sun was getting to strong and I had to protect especially my nose.

turn back to Shiraz, come on! (On top: Bandar Abbas….)

Maharlu Lake…

…a bit dry

Then I remembered that I had chocolate in my bag and realized that it is my duty to prevent it from melting. I did what has to be done (Arash, please tell Negin that this sentence even works with chocolate!)

It would have been enough for lunch and dinner at least…

What to do if you need a little privacy in a flat area without any trees? On the pic you see a hint!

Sometimes you have to bend down, but you always have shadow and you can do what has to be done

Because of good circumstances and too few breakes, I reached Sarvestan at 1:30. I found the street Hamid had marked but my telephone had stopped working. A man showed me the way to the local Irancell shop. When I was there, a young funny guy came, talking a lot (in Farsi) and in a way telling me that there is no shop. He and some others wanted to invite me for lunch but I tried to explain that I wanted to meet Hamid. I showed them the contact on my phone and they showed me the same contact on theirs. The funny one told me to follow and as I always had been talking about the shop I hoped he would bring me there, but he brought me to Vahid’s house, the uncle of Hamid. He was not at home, so he opened another door and told me to come in. More and more friends and relatives gathered, my information paper went around, tea was served, and I was confronted with a huge pile of rice and eggplant etc., my second lunch.

the “funny one” stands but all others also jolly fellows 🙂

Meanwhile, Hamid arrived

and shortly after I followed a car…

At home, he told me about their pistachio garden, but “garden” in this case is 30ha. In the afternoon, we first went to Irancell, but the SIM card simply is off duty because of a 1month limitation. We came only shortly before dusk to the garden, Hamid showed me around

and then we went to his grandparent’s house. His grandfather had been a shepperd and leading a nomad life, because the sheep had to be brought 500km to the north respectively south according to the seasons.

At home, we had Abgousht, the first home-made for me [by Hamids mother, no photo 🙁 ]

the first of these places I saw in a house in Abadeh and more of them when coming south

Most of the time, I was sitting in front of my computer, writing and later cutting videos. The hardest cutting work is, when I forgot to turn off the Gopro and then have 15 or 30 or even 60 min of video (after that, the battery is low), because sometime, those videos unintentionally bring something I am glad to have afterwards, but it is time consuming and sometimes, I fall asleep what makes it even more time consuming. But after cutting those clips from one hour down to 5-10min I save space on my computer.
For a while, I assisted Shoreh at cooking another halva variant then I went to get my bike mirror. To make it short: It works ?
When Arash came home, we had “my” last lunch together.
For me this last day is full of leaving-thoughts. Arash and his family are the last connection to all those people who since Tabriz were or became my friends by Nader and his relatives. It is about leaving this family, it is about leaving all those friends between Tabriz and Shiraz and it is about leaving Iran as I now go the port, to the ferry to Dubai.

leaving…

In the evening, Arash, Negin and I went to “our” last dinner to the Shapouri restaurant, a beautiful place with garden and beautiful house.

looks like an Austrian “Wurzelsepp” (the left one!)

At home, we ate some cakes Negin had helped me to select,

we talked for a while, but nothing can hold time back, the last Shiraz-hours were melting. I remember that feeling, it accompanies me on this journey…

In the morning at 10, I wanted to continue the endless mirror story by first trying to get a new glass and if not, go to the first bike shop and buy the mirror the owner had shown me, when I came there for the gears.
Until then, I nearly was finished with writing my diary. Normally, I write it in “word” to get the auto-corrections and then copy it to google translate (I wait for Ecosia translate, I would be happier to use that!) to find other mistakes I like to make, but the correction doesn’t find (this time, it was “cares” instead of “cars” besides others) and then upload it (with the remaining mistakes).
I don’t know how, but in this procedure I lost a bigger part of the text (Normally, the combination “STRG+S” is my most used one, but sometimes I forget it, to make things like that possible.). I tried to get it back with the “re-do button”, found only parts of it and lost all corrections I had made after that. I tried to overcome my feelings of frustration and fixed that. But it became to late for my bike-expedition to be back before Shoreh had leave home. So, it was postponed to afternoon….
In the meantime, I took pictures out of the book of old Shiraz, Arash had shown to me.
Persepolis:

Saadi and Hafes Shrine

Someone sitting where Nikoo and Amir now, and Arash in his childhood had been sliding down

Advertisment for a musical (film) about the Trapp family in Salzburg (Austria)

At later noon, Arash came home and now the plan became different.
The family went with me by car to the bike shop. On the way we saw a man in the car playing backgammon on his phone while driving , the game Mostafa had played with me. (see 082)
Another opportunity to chase a car (and make a blurred, zoomed evening pic out of the car, bit imagine it would be something more spectacular, like the hint to a crime to enjoy the blur)

please follow the arrow to the incriminated device

The shop was closed and gradually customers gathered. The offered mirror was better than that I had bought near Isfahan Gate, but without my bike, I was not sure if I could use my handle extension. The owner told us where to find people repairing my original mirror and to come back for his mirror if that doesn’t help. This is very kind…
So, we went on to a glass cutter who said he can repair it with flat instead of convex glass until the next day. (Story to be continued the next day)
We went on to a place with a crowd of nervous customers and at least 5 sellers to cope with their urgent needs.

It was a shop for nuts and sweets!
Arash bought something for the family, too, but his main goal apparently is, not only caring for me like a father (he is 10y younger than me) in Shiraz or on the way to Shiraz or on the way to B. Lengeh but until China – the bag is heavy and big.

I wish I once can show my gratitude to that extent. This care and these efforts to help me, to show me around, to make me feel comfortable, is pretty much to receive with so little to give back.
We went home, for some minutes, because the next would have been Yoga class (soon enough) but an uncle and 2 cousins had asked Arash for help, so he had to use the car instead of the bike to do all that in time.
The group welcomed me friendly and the teacher, another one than last time, wanted to know about me. Arash told my story but I don’t know if the teacher and the group continued to talk about something else during that or all the time about me and I started to feel a bit uncomfortable for wasting their time by my presence.
But then we started and the teacher cared a lot for me, forming my body to the correct positions (or as near as possible with my rusty joints) and teaching me the word لبخند (“labkhand” or for German: “labchand”), because feeling your ligaments nearly tear doesn’t produce a smile by itself, you must have the right attitude.

Something else:
There is the Jewish joke of a mother giving her son a red and a blue tie for birthday. Gratefully and proudly, he wore the blue one the next day and his mother says: “Ah, so you don’t like the red one!?!”

My efforts to refine my “Iran-fitting” eating skills reminds me on that. There should always be a good balance of all parts of the food until the end, because if your host sees an imbalance you get more salad (or rice or meat) and next you get meat (or salad or rice). Rice, you get nearly in any case if your plate looks too empty for the given time. The simple trick to eat slowly is simply too simply because it makes clear that you don’t like the food. So if you look for a third way between the red tie (becoming fat) and the blue tie (disappointing kind hosts by eating less than they calculate you could get into your body), try whatever you want, or just go with the follow and enjoy the food as long as you are in Iran.
You can try to “cycle it away” later.

The day began early and with a misunderstanding. Yesterday we had been talking about hiking in the mountains, about some religious event (and about breakfast at the grandparent’s house). And Arash had said he will get up at 5 to go to Kalleh-Pacheh. I should have known the word (see day 060) but instead at first I saw to other options: It might be a opening ceremony for this religious event (I would not join the Kalleh-Pacheh praying), or it would be a hike to Kalleh-Pacheh mountain (I would overcome my laziness to see sunrise with Arash on Kalleh-Pacheh peak). Later in that conversation (but without asking directly I got it right, because I remembered that Kalleh-Pacheh had been sold out in Zanjan in one place and we had to find another one and so it became clear why Arash wanted to buy it early to be on the safe side. It was meant for breakfast. So, in the morning I tried to wake up to accompany Arash, but he had been even earlier than 5a.m.!
Writing time for me…
Now I know more about the meaning of his name, because in a rush Arash made the family leave the house, having a pack of sleepy or sleeping minors on the backseats if his car a few minutes later.
Breakfast was again with Hamed, Felor, Mohammad and Ali, and for a short time, Felor’s brother Nima also was there. (but not to see here)

After breakfast, Arash left to visit a place and I started a discussion with Hamed with Negin as third party and translator. Hamed is a believer, an army man and has historical knowledge and I wanted to know about the word martyr (instead of war victim) for those who died in Iraq war (1980-88). Hamed apparently knows most of the arguments from previous discussions and his answers are clear, but in the end for me the word “holy war” was the same abuse of religion than before and a mother feeling good or at least comforted when she loses her child in such a war, because it is holy and now he is in paradise, is too strange for me to accept.
Arash fetched me for sightseeing. On the way, like yesterday I saw a car with a yellow ADAC sign and again Arash tried to catch up so I could make a photo of this strange phenomenon, but the “ADAC-cars” seem to drive (too) fast in general.
We went to Nasir-ol-Molk Mosque (~1870), called the pink mosque because of the light reflections in the coloured glass.

On some walls in the yard you can see motives from European sites (are there any churches in Austria with motives from Islamic countries?)

and I like the delicate ornaments going up to the roofs where they can only be seen when you have a zoom.

you cannot see it

can you see it?

in cow’s well. Arash remembers times with much more water

You could find the Quran in several languages and we compared translations.

We went on to Naranjestan Museum.

It once was a private house and shows a lot of beautiful details like the painted roofs (again with alpine subjects).

We went back to the car. I was surprised how far it was and said something and Arash replied that he remembered that it was near a bank, I replied that I remembered it was near a ice cream shop. We came to bank, shop and car and minutes later, Arash made a stop at another ice cream shop (see day 081!) and I wonder:
If I mention remembering an ice cream shop (and thus Arash buys ice-cream) and he mentions remembering a bank – what could I have done in return?
On the way, walking and going by car, we had been talking about different things and Arash who is a believer on his own, once more showed that belief (not religion) can also expand your horizons. For me, in general, the world would be a better place if mankind would develop ethics instead of religion. Caring for each other needs nothing more than experience someone who cared for you when you were in deepest need for it, as a helpless baby. Then you need no religion, no fear of hell, no longing for paradise for doing the good while religions struggle to teach and force the same and only result in religious wars and countless ridiculous schisms.
But this are my thoughts and meanwhile we are back at the grandparent’s house. Arash told me to take a picture of the side of his car and first I thought maybe there is some scratch or so, but:

He said he had been tired of chasing cars and now I can take my photo unhurriedly.
The sign says “Members safe money here -Road service on behalf of the general German automobile club” and you can see the limits of fake as the word Straße (Street) with futile effort is altered to StraBbe, but still you get the feeling ADAC is everywhere.

In the house, we had been talking about food in Austria (using a lot of pork), some weird subjects Negin has to study (and everyone else at any university) like Islamic history and literature (not weird in itself, only if you study something completely different), something called similar to “Khomeini’s testimony” (kind of collected wisdom…) and: the way of living. First of all, I was surprised that after 18years of living someway you are taught the right way, but Negin explained that it is focussed on marriage and in contrast to other subjects, here the women and man are separated by sex. I didn’t want to know more details about the curriculum (By the way: google suggested “empty fabrics” for the German word Lehrstoff!), my phantasy was enough.

Later, Amir wanted to taste the liquid…

I was tired and invited to take a nap. My brain switched to free-wheel mode and digested words (see bold prints). And during this kind of sleep I saw myself thinking the sentence “Being a pig in Austria equals to being a woman in Paradise” and was not sure if this is wisdom or nonsense or both but I woke up to write it down and judge later.
After a while I heard the word Martin and after a few repetitions I knew that this is my name and woke up. It was lunch time. After lunch (and, you know, tea and fruits) we went home and next on Arash’s list was the pool. Normally, aspects of body exercise and health help me to overcome my weakness, but I was glad that Arash was motivated enough to go alone.
Meanwhile I tried to sort photos for the blog (trying to limit them is not easy) and the like.
It was a nice evening of talking and laughing and learning important things like:
Why can deer be so fast when they have such a poor diet of grass and how fast flies a fly?
I can tell you that it is slow as ~10km/h and now new questions arise, because during cycling, some flies are bothersome, and I cannot get rid of them when I go with 20km/h. I know that when I jump vertically in a moving metro, I land in the same place because I am part of the system, but how long can a fly stay part of the system (me and my bike!) when I try to get rid of them?
I went to bed a bit earlier that evening.