Pocket Money & Ignorant Policeman

My Hennessy in Krabi.

I have just hitchhiked a tourist bus. Since it's bound for Phuket they dropped me on the junction for Krabi.

It's darkening already as I stroll about the market and ask a pick-up owner to take me. He is shy and apparently not going really far. Others board the back of the pick-up. People run around the market to help me. Finally a woman approaches me and wants to give me money. First I decline but after the third 'no' it's better to accept. It happened so many times now, that people want to give me money for a bus. The people around stop a public bus and tell the driver to give me a lift. Well I'm fine with that because I can relax a bit.

In Krabi I get a lift with a local police officer in his private car. He doesn't care at all about traffic rules speeding passed red traffic lights and through low speed-zones. What ever … finally I have reached Krabi. It's full of tourists. I ask some about the nearby beach Ao Menang. A Dutch couple gives me some useful information but in the end I enjoy hanging out with four young Germans in the local street market.

As it starts raining I'm stuck in town. I use the free wifi in a bar to write some posts. At around 1 o'clock I set up my hammock in a small park by the seaside to catch up with sleep.

Beautiful Esfahan

Our alarm rings at 9 o'clock and we need the long sleep deeply. After finishing a short breakfast, Mohsen and his driver pick us up and we head to the post office, where we would like to buy an Iranian SIM card. It costs 5.000 Toman, that's about 4€. We ask for the way into the city and Mohsen shows us the local bus stop, where we catch a leaving bus. We will meet Mohsen later.

Chai-Trinken in der Busfahrer-Baracke

The bus is empty, so we choose the best seats at the back. This was a mistake. While heading to Esfahan, more and more people join and a pattern comes to light: Men at the front, Women at the back.
Embarrassed as we are, we choose new place in the front if the bus. It's not on us to break the cultural rules!

Gorgeous Mosaic.

At this point another important thing: Today for all strict muslims Ramazan (or Ramadan) starts. They are not allowed to eat or drink while the sun is shining for 30 days. Many restaurants and shops will be closed and we don't know yet, whether this will be a problem for us.

We are slowly getting a feeling for this interesting country. Our first Farsi sentences are getting easier, I learned the way how to write Iranian numbers and the climate seems comfortable.

Old Bridge Building in Isfahan offers exotic communication.

We arrive near to the Imam Square. It's huge. Lonely Planet says it's the second largest square in the world and we can agree with that. Large grass surfaces, many fountains and stone plates cover a space, bigger than five football fields. At each side of the square, four big mosques reach to the sky.
In the surrounding gangway, a souvenir market is located. They sell everything: Persian carpets, antique ceramics and the local dessert "Gaz", a white nougat with pistachios inside. Delicious!
Surprisingly, many venders talk German to us. They learned from school and daily tourists. One of them actually could "jodel".

The sun is at zenit, as we meet a Polish guy, who does almost the same style of traveling as we do: Hitch-hiking and CouchSurfing! What differs is his schedule, he isn't planning to go home soon and he's run out of money.



Some minutes later a joung Iranian student invite us to his small home, right next to the "big bazar". We drink tea, listen to modern local music and talk about studies.

While discovering a nearby park Mohsen calls and we meet at a square. He and his girlfriend want to show us an old bridge, crossing the waterless river. We do some photos and have a lot of fun. Mohsen explains some history facts and some minutes later we fill our hungry stomachs beneath in the IFC (Iranian Fried Chicken :D).

Only at sone topics our opinions differ: Mohsen thinks not so good about the Malaysian culture:

"Two hundred years ago, they lived in trees!"

We all laugh and finish our chicken. After that, Mohsen spontaneously invites us to a family meeting nearby. Curious as we are, we accept excitedly.

17 aunts and uncles, many cousins, nephews and other relatives welcome us and we have a funny evening with great food, even better desserts and two parties backgammon.
Tired, but satisfied we leave and with a bunch of fruits for breakfast we sleep instantly.

Tabriz mit Kartoffelei

Having breakfast followed by Iranian dating lessons in El Goli Park.

Im letzten Moment hat unser CouchSurfer Nariman in Tabriz erfahren, dass wir nicht bei ihm bleiben können. Das ist schade, denn mit Nariman haben wir viel Spaß. Er spricht fließend Deutsch, lebt einen sehr modernen Lebensstil und möchte unbedingt reisen. Wir hoffen sehr, dass ihm dieser Traum bald in Erfüllung geht. Iranische Männer bekommen ihren Reisepass erst wenn sie ihren Militärdienst abgeleistet haben.

Nach einem Spaziergang in der nächtlichen Innenstadt und leckerer, typisch iranischer, Pizza ;-) suchen wir im landesweit bekannten Park 'El Goli' ein ruhiges Plätzchen für uns. Leider ist die vorherrschende Vegetation sehr karg, also machen wir unsere Hängematten in einer Hütte fest. Die Nacht ist angenehm. Wieder merken wir, wie unabhängig wir mit den Hennessys sind.
Am nächsten Morgen holt uns Nariman ab. Er mochte uns zeigen, wie sich junge iranische Männer und Frauen treffen und verlieben: Hier im Park.

"Zum Kennenlernen gehen wir in die Straße, in Park, in Supermarkt." (Nariman über Dating auf Iranisch)

Wir kaufen Brot und Aufstrich und setzten ins auf eine Bank. Tatsächlich sind hier sehr viele junge Leute. Jungsgruppen schlendern umher und werfen verlegene Seitenblicke auf die Frauen, die hier ausnahmsweise nur die Hälfte des Kopfes bedecken.

"Ich mag dicke Frauen! Wie finden sie Frau da vorne?" (Name der Redaktion bekannt)

Um 10 Uhr brechen wir auf. Wir haben heute einen größenwahnsinnig en 650 km-Trip nach Teheran geplant. Wir verabschieden Nariman auf der Autobahn. Schnell ist ein LKW gefunden.

Sarbi ist unheimlich freundlich. Wir reden viel, soweit das möglich ist, über alle möglichen Sachen. Er zeigt uns sein Fotoalbum: Viele Fotos mit schicken Autos und neuen Mercedes-Lastern aber auch ein paar Fotos von einem weit zurückliegenden Amerika-Urlaub.

Sarbi lädt uns zu einem sehr gewöhnungsbedürftigen Essen ein: aus einem dampfenden Kessel fischt er Kartoffeln heraus und reicht sie uns zu unserem iranischen Knäckebrot (das vergleicht nur annähernd, wie trocken es ist) und hartgekochten Eiern. Nichts für mich! Im Laden stehen gibt es auch Getränke: Sie werden in einer Badewanne gekühlt.

Zurück im Laster fahren wir bis zur nächsten großen Stadt mit. Sarbi gibt und Tonnen an Verpflegung mit. Wir sehn ihm an, wie glücklich er ist. Wir sind's auch.