After Badab Soorts Spring Water, we had a challenging bike ride on narrow gravel roads with a lot of uphill. Moreover, the heat was intense, but the surroundings were magificent and beautiful.
Small, narrow gravelroads from Badab Soort
We passed through some small villages before we had a long downhill ride where my maximum speed reached almost 76 km/h.
Then, shortly after Dibaj, we set up camp for the night at 2300 meters above sea level and slept under the open sky for the third consecutive night.
The next day, we decided to take different routes. I opted for an easier and more southern route, while Lars chose a tougher and more northern one.
View over green valley from Niala
Cycling from the valley up to Nyala was a significant challenge, nearly 10 km and the heat was awful.
But nothing lasts forever; everything has an end, including this climb. I see a large sign with the text ”Red Crescent Society of Iran,” the Red Cross. I knock on the door and ask for the use of their restroom, which they kindly grant.
I take off my shoes outside the entrance and place them on a shoe rack. Then, I’m invited into their lounge, and they offer me tea. They know a little English, and we manage to communicate a bit.
Despite the language barrier, they are really friendly and are dressed in sharp red uniforms.
Of course, we have to take ”selfies” before I continue my bike ride.
My self and Red Crescent employee
From here down to the Caspian Sea, Gorgan strait and Galugha was downwards, nearly 13 miles or 20 km. Beautiful and scenic road and throug a nationalpark, Tooska Cheshme Forest. I also notice that one or two spokes where broken. I calculate to find a bicycle workshop in Galuga.
First I did when I reached Galugha was looking for a bicycle workshop. A youngster helped me to finde one. While waiting I crossed the street stepped into a patisserie for coffe and sweet cookies, and i did’nt need to pay 👍💝. I wonder if this would be possible in Sweden?, not likely
I went back then for fetching my bicycle and they seems to made a good job. Then out of Galugah towards Gorhan.
On the main road leading to Kord Kuy, I get overtaken by a guy on a motorcycle with a young girl on the back. He points to the right and shouts…
– Come along, follow me.
Father and his doughter Yeganeh and their house outside Galugah
We turn off the road onto a small path between two fields and stop at a small square stone house with an upstairs made of branches, planks, sticks, and a metal roof.
The stairs up are a homemade ladder.
A big carpet is on a wooden floor, and on one long side, there’s a homemade shelf where they store china and such.
The girl sits across from me, smiling so beautifully that it brings tears to your eyes.
Yeganeh offer me homemade bread
The man, who is her father and is in his mid-thirties, brings out a plate of bread, tomatoes, and cream cheese and asks me to eat.
If the house is of simple quality, their hearts and generosity are all the better and greater.
Before I leave, he gives me tomatoes from his own garden and a watermelon.
Once again, I have been shown that Iranians are something special, truly unique.💓💓
After this unexpected invitation and kindness from Yeganeh and her father, it was time to find a camping or tent spot. Which would turn out to be a little bit more problematic than I had anticipated.
Continuing towards Kord Kuy, but many small communities follow one another, and the darkness makes it difficult for me to find a good camping spot.
Around 9 PM, I tooke a chance and turned onto a narrow road leading to a university and find a spot between the road and a field with a large green area urrounded by trees and bushes, where I set up my tent in the shelter of some low trees.
After pitch up my tent and arranging my sleeping area, a guard from the university across the road approaches and indicates with his body language that I can’t camp there.
I tell a white lie, saying that I had to change my camping spot due to roaming dogs. At the same time, he looks at my leg and sees the bandage and my injured elbow.
He walks away, and then a chain of events unfolds like a carousel, which I hadn’t anticipated.
A few uniformed guards show up, leading to more discussion before I’m allowed to settle into my sleeping bag. I’ve just fallen asleep when I hear new voices, and I open the tent flap to find three paramedics in white attire with protective gloves, mentioning something about an emergency.
– No, no, I’m okay.
– I have medical treatment and antibiotics.
After more discussions, they leave, but soon, the police arrive, saying that I should come with them to the police station and sleep there.
They claim the area is dangerous, and I could be killed. I deny their request, and when they won’t even let me take down my tent, I’m about to fall apart. Of course, they check my passport and VISA.
A little later, another group, apparently from the city’s government office, shows up. In total, about ten people gather around me, all talking over each other, and some of them shining several times a bright flashlights right into my face.
Finally, I’m allowed to stay, and it’s 12:30 AM.
Phew, what an ordeal.
I fall asleep like a log and feel mentally and physically exhausted.
Distance: 101,23 km Average speed: 16,4 km/h Max Speed: 73,8 km/h Lowest Altitude: – 11 m m.a.s.l Highest Altitude: 2435 m.a.s.l