Leaving Iran and starting on the Arabian Peninsula.

Leaving Iran gave us no time to rest. Next up was a short blast through the bottom corner of Iraq to get to the safe haven of Kuwait, but we had to pass through Basra, and the temptation to stop was too great. We needed a rest anyway; from leaving the Iraq border, we had dozens of police checks and passport checks, and so we parked on the very modern Corniche by the waterfront in Basra. It wasn't what we were expecting at all.

The Arabian Peninsula is vast. This photograph does not tell the real story.

The Corniche was an area for locals to promenade, picnic and show off their fancy cars.

We were a distraction to normal business, and we were inundated with knocks on the door and a big welcome. It was lovely but got annoying when we wanted to get into our pyjamas later in the evening.

Traditional Iraqi breakfast.

We were glad to have the family with us. The menu was a little challenging.

A very kind family took us out for Breakfast the next morning at a traditional Iraqi restaurant, then took us to see cousins up country for lunch in the marshes. They then allowed us to rest but brought us dinner to our truck. 

An elder relaxes before taking lunch with us.

Lunch is traditionally served on the floor.

Everyone shares and eats with their hands.

Nearly done, and then it's time for Chai.

Chai brewing.

While out on our family drive, the oldest son asked if we minded if he played his music on the car stereo. We said no and looked forward to hearing some Iraqi music. We laughed when he played Dancing Queen by Abba. It's a small world.

Other than the Corniche, Basra and the surrounding countryside was a chaotic mess, and a plethora of plastic and associated rubbish was everywhere. Packs of dogs scavenged for food. Such a shame.

Kuwait was next and was so clean and precise against the chaos of Iraq. 

When we eventually got through the border, we were so tired that we opted to sleep in a residential area car park soon after the border. 

Kuwait city from the massive bridge

The whole country appeared wealthy, and all the houses were huge.

By mid-morning the next day, we had a range of food options for lunch after several people dropped by to give us food and welcome us to their country.. The strangest was a lady in a maid's uniform from one of the local big houses who brought us a huge silver tray full of food and a Thermos flask of Kuwaiti coffee but spoke no English.

Even the water towers are magnificent in Kuwait.

The problem came the next day when we left; we didn't know to whom to return the tray and flask. 

Kuwait City was bristling with money, and it has a bridge to access the other side of the bay that is an amazing 22.5 miles long (36km). One of the longest in the world.

We are never short of visitors, and these guys popped in to say hello.

The modern financial district was truly amazing and a rival to any financial district anywhere.

This was such a contrast to what we had seen previously in Iran and Iraq, and yet all three countries have wealth from oil and gas. 

Saudi Arabia wasn't far away, and the drive down from Kuwait through the barren desert lands of Saudi's north east corner wasn't much fun.

Bahrain offered us a chance to mingle with the many ex-pats working in Oil and Construction jobs, living in gated communities with all mod cons, domestic help, and a range of sporting and eating excellence to be enjoyed, including Alcohol being available at a price!

Bahrain is dull as an area, we thought, with little to see and quite a small area, but the luxurious living and the sporting and culinary options make it an attractive option for some, I guess.

Not paying taxes must help as well.

After another dull drive through Saudi, we arrived in Qatar.

We were often randomly stopped whilst driving and offered Chai and Dates

The norm is to throw out a blanket to sit on.

Another wealthy Oil enclave, Qatar defies everything you think of. Wealth pours from every corner, and the men are in their gowns and colourful red and white check Dish-dash head gear.

The women, however, when you do see them, which isn't often, in their dower black burkas, don't stand out so much apart from the pure idiocy of wearing a full black gown when the temperature can reach 40+ degrees.

Most people from the Arabian peninsula are of Bedouin/tribal descent, and now they are all just rich, and very few Saudi, UAE or Qatari people do a job. They employ migrant workers from India, Pakistan, the Philippines and Bangladesh to do everything, and I mean everything.

The pecking order is the Indians from the Kerela area of India are generally well educated and get the better jobs, the Philippines work as domestic help and the Bangladeshi community getting the shit jobs, literally. 

A lovely touch was the Indian men would congregate in car parks, open spaces, in fact anywere they could get light and would play cricket after work until the early hours most evenings.

Everyone has domestic staff, and the Qatar guys sit around drinking Chai and smoking the Shisha pipe. The women? They are rarely seen.

Camel Racing is huge in Qatar, and unlike horse racing, the Camels don't have actual jockeys, just a small robot that presumably delivers a small jab to jolly them on, remotely controlled by the camel owners, I suspect.

Camels getting exercised at the race track.

We didn't see any racing but saw plenty of camels.

Camels are worth anything from $3000 (£2500) to more than $1,000,000 (£800,000) for a good runner.

Gambling is not allowed, and the prize is the prestige of owning the winning Camel.

I guess when money is no object, that's enough.

Whilst making a random stop for water in a small village, we were approached by a guy who offered the now expected welcome and offer of help. This was now normal for us.

This guy extended his offering to go to his car and produced from the back seat a Falcon as you do? 

He took us in his car to his camel farm out in the desert and displayed his Falconry skills as well.

The Falcon is placed on the back seat whilst we are driven to the Camel farm.

The Falcon is displayed while we fill the truck with water.

The Falcon was then placed on the back seat of his car next to Charlotte like a small box of groceries. Quite surreal..

The owner showing us his camels.

We got introduced to a few of the Camels.

He was very proud of his stock.

A mum with her newborn.

Camels are highly prized, and although they are not the best looking creatures, in Saudi Arabia, they do have an annual Camel beauty contest. The camels are judged on the length of their eye lashes and their hanging mouths.

All was good until 2018, when disgrace fell on several camel owners, and 12 camels were disqualified for having Botox injected to enhance their hanging lips!

Fridays are sacrosanct in most Arab countries, and almost all men attend the Mosque for Friday prayers, and almost everything is closed, apart from the Hardware stores, which are allowed to open as men have time on a Friday to do jobs around the house (or get their domestic help to do jobs for them).

Officials look on as a Dhow race takes place in Abu Dhabi.

We also visited the UAE and went to Abu Dabi and Dubai. We visited Dubai many years ago, and it was a building site, and it still is. The amount of Construction is staggering.

The city's area is very slick, though, and offers endless dining and leisure facilities for holidaymakers and the endless expats that live there.

But this all comes at a price; with a pint of Guinness costing around £14.00, you need deep pockets or huge salaries.

We drove again through Saudi to Oman. Distances are huge, and progress is slow.

Muscat, the capital, is modern and was an okay place to visit.

Oman people are not Bedouin and were settled people and is the only part of the Arabian Peninsula to be able to claim this.

The goat market was about to start.

The goat market in Nizwa, Oman.

Oman people claim 65% of Oman people do a job of work. I didn't check that, but I have my doubts. We had our truck serviced, and the manager told us he would part company with his Omani employees in a heartbeat, but any company has to have their quota of Amani's to conform to employment law.

The migrant workers at the garage were mainly Indian, and they lived onsite in a company block of flats around the back. They had three meals a day cooked for them and their family. They paid around £70 a month for this service and kept them loyal to their work.

We travelled the 1000km to the other end of the country, and the beaches in the south were pleasant, but the best part was Snake Canyon. A super driving experience that made our monster truck look tiny.

Snake Canyon

Snake Canyon. A real treat and a test for our truck.

We also stayed on the only campsite in Oman and got our washing done. The owner had a secret bar, and I spent a few nights rubbing shoulders with local dignitaries who would call by to drink alcohol away from prying eyes.

Young street sellers learning the trade at the goat market.

A smart Omanian poses for a photo in the campsite's secret bar.

The owner also went to a family reunion whilst I was there. Unfortunately, 20 family members couldn't make it, so they were down to a mere 175 people. Males under 18 were not invited, nor were Women!

Oman also has Bullfighting. We said we wouldn't go, but after further investigation, we went to look. The fights are between 2 highly decorated bulls, and as soon as a Bull turns away, the fight is over. There is no blood, and the fights last 1 or 2 minutes maximum. 

The all-male audience sits around chatting and eating. It's quite a spectacle.

The Bulls are tethered to poles driven into the ground, all around the area where the bulls fight, and we had to be stealthy to avoid getting trampled by the Bulls awaiting their turn. Health and safety, my ... armpit!

Charlotte was the only female and caused quite a stir.

The Bulls are ready to fight

Each one decorated by the proud owners.

The men relax and watch the bullfighting. It wasn't at all life-threatening for the Bulls, at least.

Water was also plentiful in Oman. We called in at a tanker filling stations, Fuel stations and sometimes a random hose at the side of the road.

We carry around 400 litres of water, which is used for showering and washing. It's filtered for drinking as well and lasts around 6 days.

Water tanker drivers relaxing and drinking Chai whilst their trucks are loaded with water for delivery.

The water tankers are highly prized and decorated.

Next up, we were back in Saudi to see a stage of the Dakar rally, and I will cover this next time.

Thank you for reading this blog.

Please let me know your thoughts/questions.

Just a few random photos of the last leg of our journey

A camel herder looking after his camels.

Some night park-ups are very special.

It was a little windy.

A view from our Safari hatch

Another water stop.

Lunch time on the road.

Iran.

City gate of Behbahan

And so, we did it. We travelled Iran and it we loved it.

The whole country is bristling in historic sites and what a history.

I can’t and won’t try and cover that part of this incredible country in my meagre 1200+ words other than posting pictures of some of our highlights.

This blog is about the people and their struggle, their everyday struggle.

For us, we had our visas; we had our guide waiting. We needed the guide as the Iranian government won’t let us Brits travel without one. Just in case, we are spy’s, I guess?

I was worried how we would be perceived by the locals and were we indeed safe? I was assured we were safe and as long as we towed the party line: -

The advice was, don’t point our cameras at the Police or Military or Government buildings or any civil unrest that may occur and don’t disrespect the Koran and you will be okay.

And so, we went to Iran.

The pink Mosque - Shiraz The sun shines through the windows in the morning, creating some stunning images.

Getting into Iran over the land border from Turkey was easy. We had our visas; we had our guide waiting.

I have to write this bit as well. As a Danish national, Charlotte could have travelled alone without a guide but because of me, the Brit, a guide was mandatory.

Anyway, our guide gave us a great insight into Iran (I prefer Persia don’t you), not only to its unbelievable historic past as part of the Silk route but also, the current situation as it was playing out before our very own eyes.

The majority Iranians are desperate to show the world they are really nice people and want no part in the dictatorship government.

And so, my story starts.

Camel rides are common place and popular with families.

At this stage I will explain I have not mentioned names of the guide or the company supplying the guide, just in case of any reprecussions against them.

The Iranian language is Farsi by the way and not Arabic as I thought.

The Iranians are thought on as a strict Muslim society.

Women should wear loose fitting clothes as not to show their curves.

Women MUST wear head scarves to hide their hair. This is Mandatory and punishable by imprisonment or public flogging for anyone not doing this. (Yes, you did read that correctly).

The Government party line is, all women will wear head scarves to hide their hair.

All men should follow the Muslim faith and attend Mosque, read the Koran etc.

External view of the Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque, Esphan

Internal view of the Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque, Esphan

Our guide a 30+ guy, married with a son. Happy guy just wanting to please and do a good job.

I will call our guide Fred for ease of further reference.

Fred was happy to share that he was amongst around 80% of Iranians that had turned their back on their Muslim faith and had stopped attending Mosque and really didn’t identify as Muslims mainly driven because of the dictatorship government and as a silent protest..

The government, however, claim 98% of Iranians are practacing Muslim and 95% of those are Shia and 5% Sunni. Shia being the more devout as I understand.

One of the first jobs on arrival into Iran was to buy SIM cards. It was a real process involving copying Passports, giving our fathers names and finally an old-fashioned thumb print using an ink pad and paper.

When done, I reluctantly told the guy behind the counter that my internet was not working. He frowned and asked what I was looking at and rather embarrassingly I said FaceBook (at least I didn’t say porn).

He explained FB, Instagram, TikTok and What’s app are all outlawed and not available in Iran and so if I wanted to see those sites, here was a good free VPN to use, it’s the one everyone uses he said?

Bingo, it was like turning on a light. Amazing and why bother with the ban if its so easy to get around the Government block?

The Rainbow mountains

Fred told us that Iran brews alcohol, legally for non-Muslims and you can buy it at selected stores if you are not a Muslim.

Iranian Vodka. 50% proof.

Fred bought some for us (me). Fred is registered as a Muslim, although not practicing?

Whilst we visited the various religious and historic sites, Fred stuck to me like glue and wouldn’t let me out of his sites.Eventually, Fred, suggested it may be better for me to say I was Danish rather than English when speaking to the locals and as every other person whom we passed would stop us and asked where we were from before adding “Welcome to Iran”

Chai is sold everywhere and usually very sweet.

Bread being baked and it was placed on stones to allow air to circulate whilst baking. Asbestos fingers needed to remove the stones after baking.

The bread was scrummy when warm and often didnt make it back to the truck.

And so what is the truth?

Whilst walking the streets and passing the shops people came out to give us fruit and nuts, Chai was thrust at us at every turn. These people are desperate to show they are kind and misunderstood and mis reported in the western press I would suggest.

The Iranian women were a real mixture. Many older women wore the Abaya and some even had pillar box eyes. Many of the younger women had skinny jeans, full makeup and the head scarf was pushed back to the middle of their hair in defiance. In Tehran, we saw some women walking the streets with no head scarf at all. This was really a strong message and I was nervous knowing what their fate could be for such a defiant act.

"I told you Rodeny" - The devaluation of the Iranian currencey meant the notes had virtually no value and this pile was worth virtually nothing.

We saw women is Shisha bars smoking the Shisha pipes. Surely that was taboo in a country that suppresses women’s rights?

Whilst taking a Taxi in Tehran, Charlottes head scarf slipped around her shoulders and the driver asked Charlotte to put it back on her head. He explained he didn’t care but the Morality police had fined him earlier that week for another lady in his Taxi having had the same issue with her headscarf slipping. They are on the streets and undercover he explained. You don’t know who they are.

Women happy to be photgraphed smoking the Shisha pipe.

Charlotte has an Iranian friend living in London. His mother lives in Tehran. We had arranged to meet her whilst there. The lady we were due to meet is 86 years old. We had told our guide before we arrived in Iran we wanted to go and see her. The day we were due to meet, we were told the Ministry for Foreign affairs had to approve the meeting and they refused and so we couldn’t go and see her? 93 years old! The explanation was, the Ministry didn’t know this lady and they couldn’t risk what we might take to her or, what she might tell us and so they couldn’t allow us to go?

A woman preparing street food. The pancacke is smothered in a sweet substance and folded and cut.

Street markets never disappoint

Getting around from city to city was hard work and the distances were huge. Driving took us many hours a day.

Getting fuel was a lottery. Iran has the cheapest fuel in the world with Diesel costing around 8p a litre.

The issue for us came as tourists, we couldn’t buy fuel legally They allocate Diesel to lorry drivers at the rate of 100lts per every 8 hours to stop the stockpiling and reselling to neighbouring countries.

We had to ask lorry drivers at fuel stations and they would usually help out for a little cash.

Royal palace - Tehran 

Many countries we travel have road blocks and police checks at regular intervals. Its quite normal for us and quite reasuring in a way. This wasn’t the case in Iran. We got stopped twice by the police to check passports, driving licence, insurance and Visa's and we rarely encountered any military. It was almost scary they weren’t around.

The one time we were approached by plain clothes police, they came to the truck and checked our visas and passports and they explained we had done nothing wrong but, should anyone run their vehicle into our truck, or should anyone try and rob us (highly unlikely), they, the Police, would be held to account by their superiors and the BBC and CNN would create another hate campaign against Iran saying the Iranians are abusing the British again.

That is their take on it?

Food in Restaurants is often served on these beds and food is eaten using your hands.

There seemed to be a hidden demon amongst the locals but the morallity police are real and need to be feared if not towing the party line. Everyone seemed scared and we think the lack of police presence made that fear worse. Less is more kind of thing?

With a population of around 89,000,000. This is a really complex and divided nation.

82% of Iran’s exports are Oil and Gas that they sell to Russia, China and India.

To get around the sanctions the west imposes on Iran, they buy their western goods via other Middle east and Asian countries. So, we think we are doing the right thing imposing these sanctions but it’s a sham.

Iran is around 7 times the size of the UK and although predominately thought on as a Muslim country, most cities have a Jewish Synagogue and a church.

After two weeks, we left exhausted from the travelling and totally, totally confused about what this country actually stands for.

It is one of the most interesting places we have ever visited.

And it will always be Persia to me.

Thank you for reading this and the next one will be a bit quicker being published.

Please, look closely at this Billboard. You dont need to speak Fassi.

The Azadi tower, Tehran.

Does my Bum look big in this?

Street food is everywere and delicous.

Grand Bizzare - Tabriz. The biggest Bizzare in the world. This is merely a snap shot.

Iranian food was delicous and often a communal affair.

A street vendor selling Betroot. It was very filling.

A bunch of school kids interested in us because we are western and the teacher not so interested.

We parked for the night and in the morning, these guys were selling their wares outside our door.

These lorries date back 50+ years and are used for everything. They are so reliable, the same model is still manufactured and updated but they are basically as they were.

Traditional food as it is served in most road side restaurants.

The modern side of Tehran. A street food market that wouldnt be out of place in London.

We are off....... To an uninspired start.

After the virtual rebuild of the truck, we took delivery and spent a couple of days in a pub car park in Doncaster, showcasing the truck and our onward journey. We met with old friends and new ones as well.

It was lovely to see so many people and thank you to everyone who came to see us.

Soon it was time to head for the Ferry (Hull- Rotterdam).

We set off in the afternoon; it was damp and grey with just my daughter, Lisa and her family waving a flag to say goodbye.

I wanted to say words like Awesome and Epic, but it wasn’t.

We played David Bowie, Heroes album. We always do you see, but even that didn’t inspire us.

A random shot of a guy selling balloons in Warsaw - To cheer things up a bit

The most exciting part was when I got out of bed on the Ferry and forgot I was on the top bunk – Bang! Luckily, I got away with a bruised knee.

Our first stop was to meet our dear friends Frank and Suzanne in Northern France at their holiday home and that was wonderful but we needed more.

Next up was to Denmark to see Charlotte’s family and friends.

Denmark is so clean and so clinical almost, but not inspirational. Not Africa to be honest.

We continued driving in Europe, which was fraught with rules and regulations.

We had to be aware of weight restrictions, height restrictions, speed restrictions—so much red tape. So dull.

We reached Poland and Warsaw and the pace appeared to pick up some.

Warsaw was stunning with so much history and a beautifully restored old City centre.

Warsaw's beautifully renovated city centre.

The Neon Sign Museum.

We visited the Neon sign museum which was quirky and located in an Arty district of Warsaw with swanky restaurants and Art galleries. It was like being back in London.

The people dressed well and the place had a feeling of affluence. Such a contrast to its not-so-distant history.

To bring ourselves down to realism we went to the Polish Jew Museum. Don’t we forget the persecution and hardship the Jews went through? It was quite disturbing. I could fill the blog with this but if you get a chance, go and visit.

Then through Slovakia, before we passed through Hungary and that reminded us again of the Jews as many Auschwitz victims came from Hungary.

Such a contrast to today’s affairs?

Hungary to Romania and a plethora of Horse-drawn trailers used by the locals to transport their goods.

Many horse-drawn vehicles are still used throughout Eastern Europe.

Once again, we saw poverty like we don’t know in the more developed world, but everyone was happy and had a smile.

The men worked the fields with old tractors or horse-drawn implements. This was Autumn and the harsh winter was just around the corner. Life must be tough for these people.

There were signs of the modern world penetrating this existence though,  as there was a Fast food, Pizza joint in every small village of varying looking quality.

In contrast, some Roma people have built many ostentatious homes.

The Roma originate from the Punjab region of India. (A good quiz question)?

We didn’t take photographs as we are quite conspicuous in our truck!

Bucharest is the jewel obviously, a beautiful city with so much history and theatrical buildings.

One of the Theatrical buildings in Bucharest. This one just happened to be a pub.

We met a friend of ours, Rishy from Sri Lanka working in Bucharest.

I asked how she had managed to get a job in Europe.

Rishy explained Romania are taking in lots of people from many countries to fill the skill shortage caused by the exodus of Romanians now living in Western Europe as they are allowed free movement in the EU leaving a skills shortage in Romania.

By working the day job and then a cleaning job in the evenings and Saturdays, Rishy could afford the €300 a month for the rent on her 2-bedroom flat in the suburbs of Bucharest. Enough to support her and her son.

By working the two jobs, she cleared around €1000 a month.

She also told us that after 5 years she can apply for residency and sit a test in Romanian or, wait for 7 years and be granted residency automatically and then have free movement in Europe.

From Bucharest, we moved quickly on to Bulgaria a similar story as Romania with the poor being very poor but signs of Mega wealth to boot.

The highlight for us was a visit to the Buzludzha building, built by the Communist Party in 1981 to celebrate the party and act as a shrine, conference centre and general reminder of how great the movement was. Unfortunately, the communist party was overthrown in 1989 (so not so great after all then).

And the building was closed.

The sheer scale and size of the place, perched high on a hilltop, miles from anything was quite something to see.

In its heyday, this place was adorned in every finery you could wish for as a celebration of the communist party.

Unfortunately, after its closure, it was completely looted by the very same Communists it was built for and is now locked up and can only be viewed from the outside adding to the eerie feeling of the place.

We got there late afternoon and watched as a steady stream of visitors came, took the all-important selfies and even a couple of the building itself.

As it got dark, we had the place to ourselves and it was quite unnerving spending the night up close and personal with this imposing structure towering above us.

In the wink of an eye, we were in Turkey and stopped in Istanbul for a small repair to the truck.

Next up, OMG. The trip picked up a pace.

Cappadocia, Turkey. The pictures tell the story but it needs to be seen (best out of season is my advice).

The obligatory photo with the Truck

The town is an ant nest of tourists, being offered every service they may or may not need. All for a cost of course, but the sights are natural and stunning and I mean, stunning.

Unfortunately, all the areas of beauty are being overrun by 4x4 vehicles, Quad bikes and Horse riding trips that look more like Blackpool Donkey rides.

All these activities erode the soft stone monuments the area is famous for.

We got up to watch the Balloons launch at sunrise for several days. We counted over 100 hot air balloons in the sky at any one time. You could feel the Ozone layer disintegrating as we watched.

I can’t deny it was extremely photogenic.

I just wished it could have happened around noon to save the 06.00hrs alarm call.

That all said, you can still find walking trails not open to the tourist busses and so relatively untouched. A real treat.

Our final real stop in Turkey was in Gaziatap. A town in the south near the Syrian border and famed for its Mosaic museum.

All things Pistachio for sale in the local markets.

The colours were amazing.

Because of the location of the town near the Syrian border, it has become a haven for Syrians escaping persecution and the town has absorbed around 500,000 Syrians putting immense strains on the infrastructure and swelling its population by around 30%.

The town is also the Turkish capital of Baklava and has over 200 cafes and shops selling everything Pistachio-based.

The numerous Tea shops served and great stop-offs to sample the local speciality.

At this stage, we had left Europe and Joined Asia. Yes, geographically we had, but also the change in culture and the street markets said it all.

Now we are preparing for the next leg of our journey and it IS, going to be Awesome and it will be Epic. Of that, I can promise you.

Street hawkers starting to appear.

Local markets are always a favourite.

A local tailor doing his thing.

Crafting copper and other materials on every street corner.

Lots of Gold shops strewn around town.

These are everywhere in Turkey. They are effective too, in my opinion.

Stick with us as we move forward. You won’t be disappointed.

Excitement and fear are running through our veins in equal proportions.

Thank you for reading my blog.