This must be the longest blogpost yet. It’s about the people we’ve encountered while driving our Toyota Yaris all the way from London to Ulaan Baatar.
Not all of you are in here, but this doesn’t mean we thought you weren’t worth it – it’s just because we don’t remember as well as we used to 😉
If any of you are out there and would like to get in touch with us for talking, drinking, laughing, visiting us in Norway or looking at holiday pictures, send us an e-mail at post@mongolrally.no (we were only joking about the holiday pictures).
In London, England
Emma and Dan were kind enough to take in Snorre the same evening he crossed the channel. Thanks for everything and also the send-off the next day.
In Switzerland
Thank you Monica, for letting Snorre stay with you in Brione Sopra Minusio.
Monica and Snorre
At the border to Albania in Montenegro
Peter, Danish handball-supporter. We always pick up hitchhikers.
Peter and Snorre
In Istanbul, Turkey
An exciting city in a lovely country. Although it has to be mentioned that the people on the roads and the ones selling stuff in the bazaars are card-carrying lunatics.
Merhaba Serdar and Şennor. Teşekkür ederim for letting us stay at your wonderful home in Istanbul, with the best breakfast of the entire trip!
The Dayi family in Istanbul
The friendly staff at the Nobel Hostel. Good wi-fi, tea, food and a kickass view from your roof terrace to the Blue Mosque.
The view from the Nobel Hostel in Istanbul
Teşekkür ederim Özlem and Çağla, the lovely barkeep and the GM for your interesting drinks and inspired conversation.
Özlem behind the bar at the Alice Hotel
A shoutout to Gal & Meidan, the two Israeli hikers who also did the visa-dance with us in Istanbul. Hope you haven’t fallen off the beaten path on your trip. Norway is pretty cool for climbing too, you know.
Near Hopa, Turkey
Thanks to the guys who kept us company as we waited for the road to be cleared, and thanks to bagpipe-guy for not really having enough time to actually play your Turkish bagpipe 😉
Turkish bagpipes
In Tbilisi, Georgia
Probably one of the coolest and hippest cities we’ve visited. Although the local Hooters isn’t really a hamburger bar.
Yo, Geoff and Li. Bearded ozzie and laidback biker chick. We hope we meet again at some juncture. It was nice having a cold one and eating brains with you.
Li, Geoff, Lilac and Snorre at the Hammock Hostel
Sorry that you got shouted at by your boss Lana, but you did forget to bring us our food after we had been waiting for an hour.
Until next time, Lilac. You’re an outstanding Georgian and we hope your studies work out for you. Enjoy the Hammock at the Hostel.
In Telavi, Georgia
We wanted to go drive our car up a mountain here – in the rain – but were stopped by the locals who couldn’t stand by and let so much stupidity happen.
Thanks to Mrs. Eto and her wonderful млинець (blinchiki), at Eto Guesthouse. Never before have pancakes been inhaled that quickly, we’ll wager.
млинець, also known as blin, blintchik or blintz
In Gyulagarak, Armenia
A beautiful country which boasts some of the finest art, history and allround culture in the world. Too bad we had to drive through it so fast, we were pulled over three times within a few hours.
Igor, thank you for taking time off from your mafia-wedding and fixing us some traditional Armenian food in Gyulagarak, when we needed it the most and for speaking English in a country where hardly anyone does.
Armenian lunch receipt
The six police officers who pulled us over. Thank you for showing us the deeper meaning of «communication between nations» and also how bribery works in Armenia.
Traffic violation in Armenia
In Norduz, Armenia
Thanks to the Russian borderguards for not shooting us.
In Tabriz, Iran
One of the largest cities in the country with 1.4 million people, it was nevertheless almost impossible to find a roof for the night.
Thanks to the very helpful young man who helped us find a hotel when we had given up all hope at 3am. You saved us from sleeping in a ditch in Tabriz, or some hellhole with cockroaches large enough that they have their own zip code. We don’t know your name, but your car was an Iranian-produced, white Peugeot.
We’d also like to give a hearty «hello» to the nice concierge at the Caspian Hotel in Tabriz. Your expertise in communication and money-exchange were well appreciated.
The guys at the Caspian Hotel in Tabriz
In Tehran, Iran
A fantastic city with generous and helpful people and the craziest traffic we’ve yet encountered. Had we had this type of traffic in Europe, you’d have read about it alongside articles of office workers going postal.
Chris and Erin – cheers mates. Ozzie world-travelers and visa-dance companions who shared some mutton neck with us in Tehran. We hope you made it to Bishkek in Kyrgyzstan.
Chris and Erin eating mutton neck with us
Hello to the two extremely helpful Iranians in the drinks shop. Not only did you show us on a map where we were (we still didn’t understand, but that’s not the point), but you also played the Norwegian anthem(!) on your mobile phone as soon as you found out where we were from. Haha.
Two nice Iranians playing the Norwegian anthem for us
The four teammates who were quite interested in us and what we were doing in Iran. When we asked them what kind of team they were (nod. nod. ??! ah. yes. sports?… boxing!), we asked them what they thought of Wladimir Klitschko, the current heavyweight champion of the world, but alas they had never heard of him.
The three Kurds from Sweden (who now live in Norway), simply for saying «Hej» on the street and then talking to us in Swedish for the next ten minutes. What a surreal feeling 🙂
Swedes in Tehran
Bonjour und Hallo to Geneviève, Éliane and Dennis with whom we ate fantastic Iranian ice-cream in Golmohamadi St. (it had pistachios, saffron, vanilla, eggs and cream in it). Incidentally, we also met Geneviève and Éliane a few days later in Gorgan where we had plums, peaches, apples, pistachios and disgustingDoogh in the courtyard of the Pars Hotel.
Geneviève, Éliane and Dennis
Another thanks goes to the owner of the ice cream shop and his son – carpenters turned ice cream providers – for talking to us for twenty minutes and for making us try ice cream, fresh plum juice, rosewater with sherbet and carrot juice while we were there.
The best ice cream in Tehran
An especially heartfelt and sincere «Thank You» goes to Mr. Mousavi at the Firouzeh Hotel in Tehran. Manager extraordinaire, international fixer and allround good person! You helped us with information about embassies, the Foreign Aliens offices for visa extensions, where to go for food, drink and browsing, which park to visit, how much to pay for things and so much more. This man alone has saved more wayward tourists than you can shake a stick at!
با تشکر از شما Mr. Mousavi 😀
Mr. Mousavi – hotel manager extraordinaire
In Masuleh, Iran
A stepped village, where the roofs of the buildings actually are the streets.
Mr. Abass Dou Zandeh who welcomed us in Masuleh, a lovely village with some of the craziest shopping «streets» you’ll ever see. Thank you for your hospitality.
Mr. Abass Dou Zandeh
In Garmarud, Iran
Where we stayed so that we could climb 25 minutes worth of staircases in the baking sun, so as to get to walk in the footsteps of the assassins at Castle Alamut.
The two gentlemen who run the Navizar Hotel in Garmarud, near Alamut. Thank you Mr. Ahmad Afshin Far and Mr. Farzin. We’re still grateful for the fresh river fish you prepared for us as we came stumbling into your hotel late in the evening.
Lovely fish prepared by Mr. Farzin at the Navizar Hotel in Garmarud
In Gorgan, Iran
About this town, we’d like to mention that it was insanely hot, adding to a humidity of at least 100%. This made sleeping at night like lying under a hot, wet towel for 6 hours.
Thanks to the helpful concierge at the Hotel Pars in Gorgan for helping us find parking for our car. We would never in a million years have found the parking garage, three alleys further down the other street from where we were staying. The other concierge, on the other hand, should basically find something else to do. When you threaten your guests with the police for moving some chairs out into the garden, you certainly shouldn’t have a job that involves dealing with humans!
Hotel Pars in Gorgan
In Mashhad, Iran
Mashhad was a major oasis along the ancient Silk Road and is also known and respected for housing the tomb of Imam Reza, the eighth Shia Imam. Every year millions of pilgrims visit his shrine.
A big shoutout to Andrej, Vadim and Gintare – the only contestants in the Vilnius-Dushanbe rally. Thanks for hanging out with us in Mashhad and suggesting going to see the Imam Reza Shrine (the largest mosque in the world).
Gintare, Vadim, Lars, Snorre and Andrej in one of the courtyards of the Imam Reza Shrine
Thank you, Sa’id, for spending two hours of your free time with us, so we could get into the Imam Reza Shrine in the middle of a very busy day, with thousands of visitors coming to pay their respects. You were very informative and a fountain of knowledge.
Sa’id (meaning «happy» – سعيد – in Arabic) in the middle
Thanks to the genial Rafi Khankhajeh, accredited driver-guide, who we had some very nice conversations with in Mashhad. We’re grateful that you drove Lars to the airport at 4am, so he could reach his flight to Dushanbe. May your lovely car never rust.
Rafi Khankhajeh at the Pars Hotel in Mashhad
In Turkmenistan
Thank you for helping us exchange local currency, madam. The guy on the left was just really interested in our GoPro.
In Dushanbe, Tajikistan
Dushanbe is the capital and largest city of Tajikistan. The word means «Monday» in the Tajik language.
Hi-ho to the Shireboys and Mad Tea Party to Mongolia. It was nice hanging out with you and visiting a Night Club in Dushanbe. Snorre and I got arrested later that night, but that’s alright 😉
Snorre, Ceci, Hugo, George, Titus and Isabel at an Indian restaurant in Dushanbe
Not to forget all the people who stopped us on the street, talked to us through car windows and from motorbikes (often while driving), welcomed us with firm handshakes, gave us gifts as we were passing by, were interested in our backgrounds and generally inquired about our wellbeing or wanted to buy us food and drink: You are fantastic, kind, helpful, stylish and talented people (that last bit we are just guessing at).
Of consulates and embassies
You suck!
Except for the Tajik consulate in Istanbul. You were great!
They suck no matter where in the world you are, and their only purpose in life is to make your day suck too! You hear me, German Embassy Tehran and Uzbek consulate?!!
Standing in line at one of many consulates during this trip
You know you’re getting used to official abuse, when waiting for «only» four hours in a baking office is «a good day». The number of hours we’ve spent in government offices, embassies, consulates and the like is staggering. We could’ve raised families in shorter amounts of time than it took to get some of the visas and sundry travel documents.
When we could get them.
Information between the embassies throughout the world – especially embassies and consulates belonging to the same country – differ markedly from each other. Advice and demands for papers in one consulate often is completely different from what they demand in the same consulate in another country.
We could probably have written a whole book just on the experiences we had in the different bureaucracies, but it would probably turn into a self-help bible for suicidal backpackers.
Of some importance about Iran and the people
At this point, we feel it is necessary to mention a couple of things to make you understand the Iranian people a little – basically because we had such an extraordinary time here.
Hosein and his family on holiday in Masuleh, Iran
The following is snipped out of a page of foreign travel advice by the British government. Most other European countries use pretty much the same text or variations thereof, while the American government just threatens to erase all your grandmother’s email if you go there (this was a joke. They only read it to see if she makes knitted cosies for pipe bombs or some such).
Our own notes are underneath, in italics:
«The FCO advise against all but essential travel to Iran. There is a general threat from terrorism. See Terrorism.[sic] A group of eight Slovak paragliders were arrested in May 2013 and three US hikers were arrested near the Iraqi border in 2009.»
Note: we were never arrested, hassled or otherwise detained – indeed, we never paraglided once!
«If you choose to travel to Iran you should keep a low profile.»
Note: as two caucasians at 6″ you can forget about us blending in. There are not that many tourists from our neck of the woods here. Everyone immediately knew who and what we were as soon as we stepped outside. Unless you can’t stand honest friendliness by strange people, this is not a problem.
«Any behaviour, no matter how innocent, that does not have an obvious explanation can put you at risk.»
Note: we stood on top of fountains, walls, monuments and little shrubberies to take pictures, film or otherwise be tourists. We also spoke Norwegian in the streets, sometimes quite loudly (over the traffic noises) so that even the few westerners we met wondered where we were from. We never once felt at risk, except for maybe being accidentally mowed down by a kamikaze taxi driver.
«Take extreme care when taking photographs in any areas that are anything other than very obvious tourist attractions. You may be arrested and detained on serious criminal charges, including espionage. It is better to ask before taking photographs of people.»
Note: we always ask before taking photographs of people. Military installations have no photographic value for us, and we wouldn’t know where to find one if it did.
«Unmarried partners and friends of the opposite sex travelling together should be discreet at all times in public. Iranian hotel managers could insist on seeing a marriage certificate before allowing any couple to share a double hotel room. Homosexual behaviour, adultery and sex outside of marriage are illegal under Iranian law and can carry the death penalty.»
Note: this was never an issue for us.
«If a Muslim woman is found in a relationship with a non-Muslim man, she may be sentenced to be whipped.»
Note: we wouldn’t want anyone to be whipped on our account, so we tried to contain ourselves – and if you wonder how difficult that was, let us just say that all the princesses of the Arabian Nights and the story of Sheherazade combined were walking down the streets around us absolutely all the time!
«Iran has one of the highest rates of road accidents and fatalities in the world.»
Note: yep! We can definitely believe that!
«Take great care when travelling by road, including by public transport and when crossing streets.»
Note: see above.
PS: when you are lost in Iran and need help to find the right street, office or location – ask a local. In fact: ask many locals.
They will point you in the right direction, even if they themselves don’t know it. The thing is, they will try to help you eventhough they might not be able to. It’s just the way they are.
You’ll realize, as you are cursing in the heat, that maybe you won’t end up where you wanted to go, but you might just arrive where you needed to be**.
Snorre & Lars
**Freely adapted from Douglas Adams’ «Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency».
DISCLAIMER: although these things worked out for us, it doesn’t mean that at some other juncture we wouldn’t have been detained for espionage, for ogling Muslim women, terrorism, talking loudly or being from Norway. Use your brain when you go travelling and take at least note of warnings and advice from others. The rest is up to you.