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YAZD,
DASHT-E KHAVIR DESERT
CENTRAL IRAN
BLOODY DUSTY!
12 Ordibeheshet 1379
1st May 2000
26 Moharram 1421
"I am a Kurd, this is Kurdistan, there are no borders here." And with that
the moustachioed Kurdish peasant tried to shove past Sam. Sam being a
veteran of the South African border campaign (circa june 1999) turned
swinging his back pack into the kurd's head.
"Who said this was Kurdistan?" I boomed out across the customs shed "Unless
I'm highly mistaken we are in the Islamic Republic of Iran, and over there
is the republic of Turkey." I pointed at the red line dividing the room. "So
where do you come from?"
"Raf leave it, I want to cross the border today" Sam whispered quietly.
"Ok, OK, Bigger brother, I am a Turkish citizen, same as you. But we're
Kurds. I mean no need to get annoyed mate, brother, my friend, dostum"
"Bl**dy coward," I muttered.
"I say," continued Sam, "if you're Kurdish, show me your passort. Looks
rather like a Turkish one to me. Doesn't say Kurdistan there".
Before the bedraggled Kurd could reply the huge Metal door opened and the
Iranians let us in.
And there began a nightmare rugby scrum to get into Iran. Fighting off taxi
drivers, physically protecting the driver we had chosen, and ending up in a
shenzi border town. Both Scott and I had been here before, and though
neither of us loved it, it was never this bad... Maybe mass tourism has hit
Iran? Two enormously painful and long bus rides later we turned up in
Tehran. After due consultation from the "transportation commitee" (The three
of us); We headed out to Mehrabad international airport and jumped on a
plane to Yazd. Flight time 1 hour 30 mins. Total cost 8 pounds ($14US).
"Hey Sam, what's the differnce between an Iranian Bus and an Iranian plane?"
"Planes don't overtake on the inside!"
This 727 had had it's day. It had been plying the desert routes. It must
have been at least 21 years since it's last official Boeing servicing, and
it showed. Bolts stuffed in holes, inner furnishings peeling off, and the
Captain? Well he'd obviously come from the Tehran to Tabriz highway!
"BANG!" the aircraft groaned and hopped back into the air. "CHRRRUNCH!" we
slammed down again.
"Well that's two punctures" Said Sam loudly as we leaped Skyward once more.
"SLAAMMMMMM" We finally made permanent contact with Yazd and skidded and
slewed to a halt. Which wouldn't have been so amusing if the air stewardess
sitting next to us had not heard all our rude comments!
So now you find me sitting in this internet cafe in the middle of the
Iranian desert, with dust in my eyes. This town besides having stunning
Palaces, mosques and Kervan Sarays is the birthplace of the Devil
worshipping yazidis. These people have now rather unwisely moved to south
east Turkey, where neither Turk nor Kurd welcomes them.
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