Pedaling from the Black Forest to the Yellow Sea
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Day 121 (Iran): Tehran (rolling out of Tehran tomorrow)

Another trek to the embassy of Turkmenistan. This time they were open and this time the consular official knew my name and said only: “Your passport.” Good stuff … that meant that the application had been approved. I filled out the forms and did the usual paperwork. It asked for a local address too and I have really no idea and no intention of releasing that information either. What to do? “Where are you staying?” “With friends.” “Friends!” “Yes, friends.” He rolls his eyes. “Just put down a hotel name, that’s fine.”

With that done, I thought it was over. I handed over my money, but only heard: “Problem, Mr.” What??? Alright, I had seen some markings on the bills and had heard about this. But try to find clean US$ bills here. The argument that I got this money from the Uzbek embassy (weak I know, but I was hoping for some Central Asian solidarity here - I should have known that Uzbekistan doesn’t get that) was met with an incredulous: “Uzbekistan! This is the embassy of Turkmenistan.” Yes, no kidding, I know. I have been here four times now. At any rate, we agree that I can scour the city for real money until 4pm when I am supposed to pick up the visa anyway. Luckily one of the dreaded tourist agency guys comes around the corner and I ask him with the help of the consul whether he’s got the goods. He does. One of his bills is also unacceptable to the consul, but that is no problem. Mr. Tourist Agency has more. He exchanges some of my bills and asks for a Iranian money for the rest. A fair deal in the end, saving me a lot of time.

I meet up with Maryam from a few days ago again and together we walk through the city and also take a last crack at getting nylock nuts or loctite. While waiting for her I snap this one, a good indication that foreigners get away with so much more than Iranians.

We pass a bike store and got a good lead. That lead sounded promising, but was the epitome of what makes things difficult here. The place was full of great bikes, but none of the people there had any idea about bikes. Brandspanking expensive bikes galore, but all they could say was that I should bring my bike here so that they knew what I needed. I showed them the threading on one of their bikes - for a couple of people this was the first time that they even saw the threading in the frame. But in the end, despite many promises and a great deal of patience on the part of Maryam (who now is an expert on nylock nuts and loctite I am sure), we left empty-handed. It was worth a try. Will have a few of them sent to Tashkent, need to pick up some documents there anyway.

The visa pick up was a no-brainer. I got the visa, have five days within a six-day period to enter and leave the country and better be out before the five days are up. The consul was nice and friendly, wished me good luck and I was off to get back home.

No more fashion police at Tajrish, which I take to be a good thing. I had planned to take some more pictures at some distance to let you see how this works here, but for better or worse, that didn’t happen. But just as in Qazvin, colored chicks are in high demand here.

As my time in Tehran is now coming to an end, a big massive thank you to Isabelle and Andrea for putting up with me for so long. I had hoped to be out sooner and not the same morning that Isabelle is leaving Tehran as well while also managing a great number of other things. Life would have been a lot more complicated without them. Thank you, thank you, thank you is all I can say.

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