'The escort ends in Bam'...so we were told. And so when two young policemen on a motorbike turn up to drive with us we were optimistic it was only to the outskirts of town....But a few hours later and they were still tailing us. The wind was up high so we were going nowhere very fast much to their annoyance. But even escorts have their uses and we sent them off to fill up our water bottles when they looked too bored!
My little legs couldn't pump quite as hard as super-Hans' in the wind so progress was slow and we decided to stop the night in an abandoned mosque by the roadside....much to our escorts horror. But the sun was setting and we were adamant we couldn't go any further, so we settled down on the floor for the night. Not even one piece of rice had touched my mouth when another police officer came bursting in, shouting in farsi and making animated 'slit throat' gestures at us. We guessed this was the ever elusive threat of the smugglers once more. Despite the agitated gesticulations of guns and death, we made it clear we were going nowhere until we'd finished our dinner! But eventually we agreed to be driven down the road, by no less than three fully armed police vans of course(!), for a cold nights sleep on an open port-a-cabin at the small police station.
The next morning both escort and wind continued added to by steady uphills. 35km later of uphill in the wind, wobbling dangerously in the back winds of zooming lorries and fighting against my headscarf always threatening to blow over my face....we took the offer of the escort for the final section to Mahan. But again, why not use it to your advantage we thought? and got them to drive us around the different tourists sites before taking us to the hostel. They get a nice day out, we get a personal taxi and everyone's a winner!
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