At the border we wait, wait, wait....
Armed police men argue amongst themselves our fate.
They want us to take a taxi, we want to cycle, they want to take our passports, we don't want to give them, they want to shout and use their authority...and we have no idea what they're saying in farsi which makes it all the more intimidating.
Eventually we agree to put our bikes in the van and are promised it's only for ten kilometres...but end up 50km down the road and still under escort.
We spend the day in and out the back of different police vans, crouching low against the backwinds of the fast driving, policemen with guns staying alert on our sides. Often they point at the dark jagged hills around and make shooting gestures…I read in the guidebook about previous tourist kidnappings by the petrol smugglers in retaliation for police crack-downs. Suddenly the car makes a sharp u-turn in the highway and starts a Hollywood inspired chase after some run down looking van. Shouting, waving their guns, the police pull over the vans which turn out to be petrol smugglers across the Iran-Pak border. Within seconds though, the van is on its way again and the policeman returns with a generous sized plastic barrel filled with you can only guess what. We sit there astounded that this corruption has just occurred in front of us so blatantly….but if police crackdowns bring only trouble for tourists, I for one am not going to complain if they let them off with a bribe…
Eventually we are let out, rolling free down the road, escort gone…only to be picked up by another escort 10 km later. I feel like a dog that’s been let out for a run around the garden before being locked up inside again…
And of course, after all that tourist conscious safety, when they finally let us go for good, of course it’s in the middle of the desert, with no water, no idea where we are, no food and no sleep from the night before….we try to explain we have no water but are told to go! Cheers guvnah! We cycle for a bit under hot afternoon sun in the empty desert road….we find a small army station that tells us we’re over 100km from the nearest city Bam…..we have no second thoughts about jumping on the bus that magically pulls up at that exact moment. And to Bam it is….
1 comment:
What adventure! I'm sorry to hear that you've had to cut your trip short, and very sorry for your family's loss, but I'm glad you were able to make it back to Scotland to be with them. I'm sure the future holds many further journeys of body and soul for you, in all manner of eye-opening places. And I can't wait to hear all about them! Much love!
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