We had planned to stay for only 2 days in Esfahan but in the end it was 5. Famous for its delicious nougat, it probably is, as our guidebook states, Iran's masterpiece, the jewel of ancient Persia and one of the finest cities in the Islamic world. Its focal point is the spectacular Emam Khomeini Square that contains gardens, pools, fountains, horse and carriages, the bazaar entrance, a palace and 2 mosques. We loved visiting the incredible Emam mosque, completed in 1629, where we watched the faithful pray with a backdrop of beautiful blue and yellow ceramic tiles covering almost every inch of wallspace praising the name of Allah.

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Esfahan shops specialise in carpets, coloured with pomegranates, saffron, walnut skins and indigo; handmade frames and boxes intricately inlaid with coloured wood and camel bone; delicate copper and silver work and Persian style miniatures painted on camel bone. During siesta we relaxed at the old teahouses under the bridges spanning the Zayandeh River, drinking chayi and smoking waterpipes flavoured apple, orange, mint or banana.

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Ancient bazaars bustle with stern mullahs and old men sell pistachios, walnuts and almonds; dried apricots, lemons and plums. Black chador clad women crowd shops full of beautiful fabrics or coloured with gold and the little children must surely wonder, if momentarily, which one is their mother. This amid the autumn heat and the call to prayer echoing over the sunbaked rooftops will ever remain with us.

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Most days riding between cities has been to some degree in the desert, which has felt liberating as I don’t have to wear my long coat and the huge spaces give a sense of freedom. The roads are always busy with trucks but to each side stretching to the horizon is a barren landscape coloured every imaginable shade of brown from brownish-green to brownish-pink, and barely discernible nomad tents spot the landscape. When we have camped in the desert, the night is always cold, still, clear and beautiful. One night we pulled off the road at dusk and prepared to camp within sight of a nomad tent. Within minutes we had a very scared shepherd screaming and gesticulating like a mad man for us to go away. Our bikes and strange clothing and helmets must have terrified him so we moved about a kilometre out of sight of him and his tent. The next morning he came over smiling wildly and watched us for about an hour as we packed up happily jabbering away in a language we could not understand.

click here to see Yazd by night

Yazd is renowned for its wind towers that rise elegantly above the adobe-domed rooftops, coconut ice and a kind of baklava flavoured with cardamom. The windtowers catch any breeze passing and tunnel it down long chimneys to cool the homes below – a necessity rather than a luxury in this dry desert town where we lost ourselves many times in the labyrinth narrow alleyways of the old city.

The majority of Iranians we have met are well mannered, cultured, highly religious, university educated people who wonder as we do about the powers of world leaders and whose faces light up with joy when we answer their questions that yes, Iran is a good country for travelling in.

Click here to see us riding

We can only smile wryly at what the trade sanctions are for when we can buy Coca-Cola; imported cigarettes state on the packet ‘made in the USA for the Islamic Republic of Iran and the latest model police cars are Mercedes. Whilst Iran may not be disconnected from the world banking system for big businesses or governments, foreign tourists can not withdraw money from automatic teller machines or banks. Our friend purchased a carpet and was told by the trusting vendor that he could take it with him and transfer money from his foreign account to the carpet shop’s account. Yet when he tried to do this, the Australian bank said they were unable to due to U.S.A. imposed trade restrictions.

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Persepolis, the massive palace, built by Darius the Great as a summer capital was completed 150 years after he started it in 512 BC. We visited as the sun was setting and turning the stone of its remaining ruins a golden pink. Although not huge, the complex is interesting, as the friezes, statues and columns are distinctly different to ruins of other cultures we have visited.

click here to see Persepolis bas reliefs

The notoriously good but repetitive kebab that all foreigners have told us is the only food available at restaurants has not haunted us too much and we have devoured fantastic stews tasting uniquely Persian with sweet spices such as Fesenjan, chicken baked with a walnut, pomegranate-juice, aubergine and cardamom sauce.

click here to see Rich at Persepolis

We are now in Bam, our final stopping point before we pass into Pakistan. It’s an ancient city that existed as a staging post on the trading route from India and Pakistan to the Persian Gulf. Its about 2500 years old and has survived mainly due to the lack of rain in this region. The new town is a beautiful oasis covered with date palms and we’ve been able to get little things done that needed to be fixed on the bike in preparation for rougher roads.

We’ve met more bikers travelling in Iran than in any country so far.
Before Tabriz we met 2 Austrians riding BMW R1100GS’s and a Croatian guy on a 650,000 km old FJ1100 (he is a mechanic) who were returning home after ravelling through Central Asia.
In Esfahan we said goodbye to Kenny on an Armstrong 500 (Scotland), Marcel (NZ) & Helen (Australian) on an Africa Twin who have ridden ahead having a shorter timescale than ours.
We met Gil & Marleen, a Belgium couple on a BMW F650 who have been touring the Silk Route, now heading home; (www.teatertentog.be).
We met and travelled for a few days with Alec from Melbourne, touring Central Asia and Europe on a BMW Paris Dakar.
And finally we met Steve (Australian) on a Honda Dominator who has just crossed into Pakistan one day ahead of us.

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We will remember having been immersed in the land of 6 inch high snow freeze icecreams; smiling faced Iranians waving from their car as they speed past far too close; giant pomegranates bursting in the late summer sun; water pipes and chayi; the never ending desert; huge juicy melons, cheap petrol, chadors and, most of all, the exceptional Iranian friendliness and hospitality.

Click to see Lisa and friends

In over 24 years of riding I thought I had encountered pretty much every conceivable road surface but Iran had a new one in store for us - the freshly oiled road!!

Iran has oil, lots of it. So much so that they practically give petrol away - it costs US$0.08 per litre, or to put it another way, to fill up our tank and jerry-cans costs $1.50. Ridiculous! Because it’s so cheap it appears to get put to uses that would not be considered elsewhere, in this case road repairs.

We had been blissfully riding along a perfect piece of tarmac, as all roads in Iran are, when we came across a man furiously waving a red flag and gesticulating for us to slow down. So we did. Luckily.

The road beyond him was black and glistening from the dividing strip across to a big open ditch on our right. I first thought it had been freshly tarred but it didn’t quite look right nor did it smell of tar. As we rode onto this black surface I caught a waft of oil, but I still couldn’t believe the road had been deliberately covered in oil. However when the bike started to drift sideways towards the ditch all disbelief was suspended.

I hurriedly dropped my feet down into outrigger mode and instructed Lisa to keep hers up out of the way and not to move and we shimmied up the road for about another 100 metres. Then a pedestrian stepped out in front of us and seemed surprised when we neither tried to swerve around him or slow down. On this surface it was not possible. That’s when I decided to give up on the town we were heading towards. A U-turn and another 100 metres of slithering had us heading in a new direction.

Click to see Rich in action

The welcome and friendliness shown towards us by almost everyone has been overwhelming. Whenever we park B.O.B. (buggered old bike) in a new town we are quickly surrounded by a large crowd welcoming us to their city and Iran, wanting to shake my hand and bask in the glow of our magnificence.

Twice now we have come up behind slow moving vehicles and when we’ve started to overtake an arm has been extended offering fruit. I slow down and Lisa grabs the proffered fruit before we ride off with a cheery wave. That however is not enough for our benefactors. Both times we have stopped several miles further up the road for one reason or another and these kind Iranian stop and pile Lisa’s lap high with more fruit.

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We have been playing leapfrog with 2 other bikes heading in the same direction – Marcel and Helen on an Africa Twin and Kenny on an Armstrong. A Kiwi, an Aussie and a Scotsman – surely there’s a joke in there somewhere. We knew they were coming our way after getting in touch through the Horizons Unlimited Bulletin Board and finally met up at Dogubayazit, Turkey, just shy of the Iranian border. They crossed over a day ahead of us in crappy weather, but 3 days later we arrived in Tabriz to find them staying in the same hotel. Three days after that we found ourselves staying at the same hotel as them again, this time in Hamedan.

While the roads in Iran may be excellent, the driving leaves a bit to be desired. Every other car approaching us starts flashing their headlights. This is generally to inform me that I have mine switched on (Iranian drivers would never consider wasting their headlights by burning them during the day), however sometimes it means the approaching vehicle is about to swerve out and overtake towards us and we should get out of their way. I furiously flash mine back at them, which sometimes dissuades them, but I’ve often been forced to hit the brakes and make space for them.

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The most common Iranian vehicle is a white Peykan – an Iranian copy of the Hillman Hunter. There are also a lot of Land Rovers and a number of big old American cars. The towns and cities are the domain of the small bike – mainly Honda CG125s. As alcohol is banned, there is no nightlife to speak of and petrol is almost free, Iranian men entertain themselves by cruising around town on their bikes every night. The streets are noisy, chaotic and a challenge to cross but it is entertaining to watch the antics these riders get up to.

Lisa has to wear a headscarf at all times, including under her helmet so that when we stop and take our helmets off her hair is covered. When we are off the bike and walking around she also wears a long black coat. She is finding this rather uncomfortable in the heat, but she has no choice – woman must cover their hair and wear something that conceals the feminine shape. We had thought that she would have to wear a coat over the top of her riding jacket, however when we asked the police at the border we were told ‘not to make life difficult for ourselves’. So much to Lisa’s relief the coat only gets worn when we are not riding.

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Now to keep those map watchers amongst you happy – we crossed the border at Bazargan and spent a day of variable weather riding on the only shitty roads we have found in Iran searching for a beautiful old Armenian church. We eventually stayed in a dive at Maku after running out of options.

The next morning we rode back to the border to change our Turkish lira as the street rate we were offered at Maku was criminal (Iranian banks will not change Turkish lira just as Turkish banks won’t change Iranian lire). From there we went to Tabriz and spent a day exploring the bazaar and enjoying the vibe.

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From there we rode to Kandovan, a sort of mini Cappadocia where people live in houses carved into the rock, then onto Takht-e Soleiman where we camped. This is one of Iran’s premier archaeological sites but not so much to see for tourists as it is all in ruins and there is no information explaining it. After wandering around there we next spent the night at Hamedan and our next days ride brought us to our present destination, Kashan, a delightful little city with an interesting bazaar, a number of restored houses built by rich merchants, some beautiful mosques and delightful views across the adobe rooftops and wind-towers.

Iran is proving a wonderful friendly country, so different from the image portrayed by the western media and we are thoroughly enjoying travelling here.

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Leaning B.O.B. (bastard old bike) into yet another sinuous series of bends, Turkish music playing in my helmet and another gorgeous vista unfolding before me, I thought to myself this was one of most enjoyable roads I have ridden for a very long time.
We were riding around the Mediterranean coast of Turkey, specifically the road between Fetihye and Antalya; where the road clings to the coastline for much of the way, winding around secluded coves and golden beaches. I was finding it hard to keep my attention on the road though, as my eyes were constantly drawn away by the azure and turquoise coloured waters and the gorgeous islands.
The only drawback to all these winding roads were getting to Lisa and she started to succumb to motion sickness!

click to see Patara Beach

This ride in itself would have been enough to make my day (sorry about the motion sickness Lisa), but there were more treats in store for us, namely Olimpos, which proved to be a delightful spot. No carpet shops, in fact no shops at all, just treehouses to stay in, Roman ruins, a beach and lots of chilled out backpackers.
And just over the hill was the Chimaera - flames that dance around fissures on the side of Mt Olimpos - very ethereal.

Click here to see Lisa at the Chimaera

Up to now we have almost constantly been travelling in weather varying from hot to very hot with only one day of rain in Istanbul while sightseeing, so we were very surprised to find that one more days ride brought about a serious climatic change.
From the warmth of the Mediterranean coast we had climbed inland to the surreal landscapes of Cappadocia. Finally a chance to use all the bulky warm clothing we have been carting around with us. We had climbed up to about 1500m and were now well away from the warming influence of the Med and it was starting to feel like autumn.

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We spent four days exploring the wonders of Cappadocia; trekking in the lovely Ilhara Gorge, marvelling at the frescos surviving inside 1500 year old Byzantine churches that had been carved into the cliffside; riding around the countryside surrounding Goreme and being constantly surprised by the weird and wonderful rock formations, many of them with houses and churches cut into them.

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Well, really it was only three days looking around Cappadocia as we took one day off from riding or doing anything touristy to just kick back, relax and do bugger all. Strange place for us to choose to do this as it is such a wonderland with so much to see and do, but we both enjoyed the downtime and also Lisa had her first 24 hour bug which proved to be a cleansing experience. Not that we got to sleep in. Every morning we would get woken just before sunrise to a roaring noise overhead. It would invariably get me up and out of the tent to watch half a dozen or so hot-air balloons drift by the rock tuffs.

Click here to see Lisa and friend

This, I think, will be an abiding memory of Cappadocia for me, along with the night we spent at a restored caravanserai watching a Whirling Dervish performance.

click here to see Dervishes

We finally dragged ourselves away from Cappadocia and struck out east. A long days ride through lovely scenery brought us to Nemrut Dagi. The transition between western and eastern Turkey started to make itself apparent by the relative scarcity of petrol stations and the deterioration in driving skills. It was becoming increasingly common for oncoming traffic to flash their headlights at us, pull out to overtake another vehicle and expect us to get out of their way. Generally, I would grudgingly oblige.

click here for another photo from Nemrut Dagi

Nemrut Dagi is a very special place. A rugged road climbs up to the top of this peak where an egocentric king built colossal statues of himself and his relatives, the gods (around 38 BC). We spent an hour or two marvelling at the giant bodies and their detached heads, enjoying the views down over the Mesopotamian plains and soaking up the tranquillity. Then the cold breeze got to much for us and we retreated to the comforts of our campsite.

Now that we are in Eastern Turkey our campsites and fellow campers have changed. At Nemrut Dagi our camping and bill for food was exceedingly cheap, and our next two campsites at Lake Van and here at Dogubayazit have been free. We are now also meeting other overland travellers at our campsites rather than European tourists on short holidays.

At Lake Van we met Jerome and Sophie Maurice, a French couple that have been riding around the world for the last 2 years on Piaggio scooters. Unfortunately they were not riding them as one of the scooters had run out of oil in Iran and blown the crankshaft, so it was in a shop waiting for parts to arrive from France. Their website is www.2globe-reporters.com

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We are now staying at Murat Camping in Dogubayazit near the Iranian border, in the shadow of towering Mt Arafat. It appears to be a stopping point for overlanders crossing to and from Iran and we are enjoying hearing about everyones experiences in Iran and Pakistan and getting some good advice on routes and nice places to check out.

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I am also giving B.O.B. some tender loving care. Yesterday we fitted some new tyres that I had sent from Ankara as I don't think I can find another set until Thailand. Have also changed my rear brake pads and will give B.O.B. an oil change today. We will be going shopping in town for a shapeless coat or knee length shirt and head scarf for Lisa, obligatory in Iran, and catching up on a few other tasks before we embark on our next adventure - Iran.