Lucky us

"Your heart and my heart are very, very old friends." The Persian poet Hafis wrote these sentences over 700 years ago. Even today they describe very well how we experience Iran. The whole country seems to us like a great school of hospitality. If all people in the world took a course in hospitality in Iran, there would be no war.

Two months ago we crossed the border to Iran in the south of Armenia. Today we are writing to you from Abu Dhabi where we live with friends in a beautiful house directly at the sea. We are happy to share our experiences in Iran with you. On the road, we have experienced some really curious things. And in the houses we were told many exciting stories.

On a sunny morning we leave our camp in the mountains of Armenia. The descent from 2,000 meters is fast and beautiful. Down in the valley we stop in front of a military post. To the left the road leads to Bergkarabach. Only a week later, armed conflicts between Armenia and Azerbaijan take place in this region. To the right the road leads along the picturesque Aras River to Iran.

"Welcome to Iran!", the customs officers greet us joyfully. The entry into the country happens quickly. From the border post we follow the river and drive through a gorge-like valley. It is hot. After 10 kilometers we take a break in the shade of a rock. A strong wind is blowing. The cars pass us with great speed. Anna is hungry and we don´t have much water left in our bottles. It is still 20 kilometers to the next village.

Two minutes later, two cars stop left and right of our bike. Mohammed and his family of 10 get out of the car. "Where are you guys from? How do you like Iran?" asks Mohammed's wife in English. Quite naturally, the women open a large picnic blanket between the two cars. The two sons start making a fire at the rock and grill vegetables and meat. Less than 20 minutes later, we are eating comfortably together, sheltered from the wind. We are totally gobsmacked.

In the next village we stop at a mosque. While filling our water bottles we discover a garden with apricot trees. We ask whether we can spend the night there in our tent. "Come here and have dinner with us," the sisters Somajeh and Sameneh invite us warmly. A little later we sit together on the terrace. The children show us different Persian dances. The family is very interested in what we have experienced so far. We spend the night in the garden house. And Somajeh's husband sleeps in front of the house on the terrace. He wants to make sure that we are doing well.

In the small town of Hadi Shar we spend the night with Nikah, the cousin of the family. Nikah's father tells us how he worked in the telecommunications industry 10 years ago. "Back then, our money was still worth something. Today it's only 1/30 of what it used to be." The strong inflation scares many. He sells 3-4 cars a week to earn extra money for his pension. When he sells a white Peugeot 207, Carsten meets the buyer Reza from Tabriz. "Mr. Carsten, please visit me when you come to Tabriz," Reza says as a farewell. We don't need to be told twice and start cycling. It is 150 kilometers to Tabriz.

Reza is waiting for us with his car at the side of the road far before we reach the city. He has no idea when we would arrive. Nevertheless, he stands at the roadside and is very happy when he sees us. Slowly he drives in front of us and guides us to his house at the edge of the city. "Welcome to my house!", Reza proudly announces. His wife Somayeh serves tea with fruit. A little later, the first relatives show up. They greet us with the friendly greeting "Salam!", which means peace, and join us. Around 10 p.m. Somayeh spreads out the food carpet and we eat Ashereshte, a Persian noodle soup, with 15 relatives.

Somayeh is a great cook. And we are great eaters. Whenever we have just finished our plate, a family member immediately scoops up more. After dinner, we drink black tea with lots of colored sugar pieces. Shortly before midnight, everyone leaves. Reza and his family also leave. "Where are you going?" we ask in wonder. "We are leaving our house to you. You should have your peace. We'll spend the night with relatives and come back tomorrow morning," Reza says. We look at each other in amazement. Who would do that back home? Tired and inspired by the day, we fall asleep in Reza and Somayeh's marital bed. Lucky us!

We spend a week with Reza and his family. Every evening we are guests of someone else from the family. In the bazaar of Tabriz we get to know the work of the carpet weavers. And with one of Reza's cousins we are allowed to do some carpet weaving ourselves. "Two people work for about 6 months on a 3x4 meter carpet. They get EUR 1,000 for it," Reza explains to us. His cousin wants to give us a carpet. We thankfully decline with reference to the limited loading capacity of our bicycle.

When we want to leave Tabriz after a week, Reza says: "You are my son. I love you. Please don't go." It's really hard to leave. But we always leave when it suits us best. We continue towards the Caspian Sea. At the edge of a village we pitch our tent. Around midnight two men run excitedly with flashlights around our tent. When Carsten makes himself known, they are reassured. In the morning at 7 o'clock a woman brings us a tray with fresh bread, sour cherry jam, cheese and tea. Lucky us!

A few hours later we stop at a freeway service area. It doesn't take 10 minutes and we are surrounded by Iranian families. "Where are you from?" is the most common question, followed by "Are you on Instagram?". Many give us fruit, sweets and whatever else they can find in their cars. After half an hour, we have 10 kg of fruit together. We can't even take that much with us. So we start to give back until everything fits into our bags. Many invite us to their homes. We diligently collect names, pictures and numbers. After 2 hours lunch break we have friends from all over the country. Lucky us!

Do you know the story of the prodigal son with the celebration that the father has when he returns? That's how we feel here in Iran. In the evening, when we are looking for a place to spend the night, we stop in front of any house and are welcomed as if they had been waiting for us for 10 years. Everything is dropped, the best clothes are put on, half the village is invited and the finest food is cooked - all in honor of the guests from abroad. We are so grateful for this experience. The world can learn a lot from the people here.

To be pope once. Or at least feel like one. That's how we feel when we ride our bikes on the street. Almost all the cars honk their horns, drive slowly past us and film us for Instagram with their cell phones. We say "Salam" and bow with our right hand on our heart. Some hand us fruit from the window while driving. Or bottles of water. Or sweets. An elderly man passed us on his motorcycle and handed us freshly baked bread while we were driving. Who would do that at home?

At the Caspian Sea it is raining cats and dogs. We are happy about the mild temperatures. The landscape is completely different from Tabriz. We drive past rice fields. Tea grows on the slopes. We look at avocados and kiwis in the gardens. A tropical paradise right by the sea. In one village we see two women stuffing their pillows with goose feathers. We stop and ask if we can stay one night in their house. Maria, the daughter of the house, beckons us in. We are allowed to spend the night in the newly renovated apartment on the 1st floor. Again lucky us!

Traditionally, the husband works in the family and the wife is at home all day. Instagram is an important medium for almost everyone to learn more about life outside of Iran and to communicate. After dinner, women and men often sit in two different corners and talk to each other. Katharina has some very personal conversations about contraception and intimate shaving. The men, on the other hand, are more interested in our bicycles, job opportunities abroad, and the current economic situation in the country.

Dancing is prohibited in public. Women are also not allowed to sing outside the home. And yet, in no country have we dance and sing as much as in Iran. As soon as we enter the living room, music is played. When Katharina and Anna dance ballet, Iranians watch enthusiastically. Since there are no public dance events, it is the first time for all of them to see someone dance ballet. And finally, Carsten is also asked to come on stage. He dances a jive with Katharina :-).

In Tabriz, we exchange EUR 50 and receive a thick pack of over 250 bills in return. Total value 15 million rials. But it is very difficult to get rid of the money. The baker smiles at us and firmly rejects the money when we want to pay. In the café, someone local has already paid before we even think of paying. And giving money to our hosts violates their dignity and religious beliefs. On the contrary, in Iran it is customary to give money to travelers. Many times, Anna receives small envelopes with money for the trip.

Resistance is futile but we learn as we go along. Not every invitation is really meant seriously. Out of politeness, Iranians always offer everything. This ritual of politeness is called tarof. But in Iran tarof also means that the other party must say no in any case. In Europe, however, it is the other way around. If you get something as a gift, you accept it out of politeness. But we soon find a way out of this tricky situation. If you politely insist on paying three times, then you can pay with a clear conscience. So we bring our money to the people after all.

After three weeks we spend the night with Fariba and Ali in a settlement near Tehran. We got to know them through Farhoud, with whom we camped in Georgia. Anna loves the swimming pool and makes friends with Dario, who is the same age. We spend the night on the roof in a Persian yurt. A few days later, our friend Inés from the Basque Country comes to visit us. With her we travel together for two weeks through Iran with its main sights. For this we leave our bike with Fariba and Ali and continue by bus and car.

In Tehran we admire the palace of the last Persian ruler, Shas. The great splendor and the ceilings decorated with mirror mosaics astonish us. In Kashan we walk through the narrow streets, past walls of clay and straw. In Esfahan we admire the great bazaar and ride in a horse-drawn carriage across Imam Square. And in Shiraz we visit the tomb of the poet Hafis and the ancient city of Persepolis. It is considered one of the seven ancient wonders of the world. Finally, we drive to Yazd and make an excursion into the desert.

We travel more than 2,000 kilometers within two weeks by bus and car. During the day we see an incredible amount and walk from sight to sight. We spend the nights with families and in hostels. "I've seen an incredible amount in the two weeks. I'm totally exhausted," Carsten sums up. Although the effort of cycling is gone, we are no longer used to seeing so much in such a short time. We are also perceived much more as tourists and have less contact with the local population.

The last 1.5 years on the bike have left their mark on us. Life on the bike is so different and allows for completely new experiences. Every day is a new adventure. In Iran we are invited every day. Cars stop unexpectedly in front of us and give us something to drink or eat. Therefore, we never know where we will end up in the evening. At the same time, however, we have the certainty that things have worked out great so far and will continue to work out in the future. Something like the adult version of the basic trust from childhood.

Back in Tehran, we hear women screaming on the street. They hold their headscarves out of the window and shout "Women. Life. Freedom." After the death of the young Kurdish woman Mahsa Amini, we notice an increased police presence. These cries are the first signs of the protests, which should become bigger and bigger over the next weeks. We say goodbye to Inés and go back to Fariba and Ali. The government has shut down most of the Internet to stop the protests. We think about what to do next.

We continue by bike in the direction of Kurdistan. We decide to avoid cities and look forward to cool temperatures in the mountains. But already after one week we make a U-turn. In Hamedan, Fariba writes to us that we should leave soon. The protests are getting bigger and bigger. On the street we meet a young Kurd who wants to study mining in Germany. "Why are you still in the country? It's dangerous here," he says, looking at us urgently. The next morning we take a bus to Bender Abbas on the Persian Gulf. 1,700 kilometers in 22 hours. By bike, that would have taken us 6 weeks.

When we get off the bus in Bender Abbas, we feel like we are walking into a wall. 38 degrees. 90% humidity. "How are we supposed to ride a bike here?" asks Anna. We take a small boat to Hormuz Island and stay at Qalha Guesthouse. We like it there so much that we stay for a whole week. Katharina and Carsten do 2 hours of yoga every morning with Soleiman and Jarhad. In the evening we go to a salt water pool and count the shooting stars in the sky. During the following bath in the sea our hands and feet draw magic veils. The water is full of phytoplankton. Simply dreamlike.

After a week we explore the nearby islands of Hengham and Qeshm. Especially Hengam has taken Carsten's fancy. Much is still untouched there and you can drive around the whole island on a relatively good track. There are many nice places to camp and swim in the sea. But again and again we meet people who tell us about the protests. "I don't feel comfortable anymore. I want to leave now," says Katharina. The next day we set off for the ferry port of Bendere Lengeh, 180 kilometers away.

When we want to exchange money for the ferry ticket in the evening, a plainclothes policeman asks us for our passports. "Can you show me your police ID, please?" asks Carsten. But the man reacts snottily and asks all kinds of questions about our trip. In the end, he photographs our passports. Katharina gets scared. When we get to the ferry office, it is already closed. "Crap. And tomorrow we want to go," says Carsten. Then a bald, goateed, tattooed man asks if he can help us. Carsten explains the situation and the man replies, "You're lucky. My name is Farhad. I am the captain on the ferry you want to take tomorrow morning. Just come to the port at 7 a.m. and we'll take care of everything." Lucky us!

The next morning everything goes like clockwork. We get three tickets in exchange for a bag full of cash. Our bike is loaded into a cage and lifted by crane into the cargo hold of the ferry. And when we get on board, fine tea with dates and cookies awaits us. Captain Farhad invites us to the bridge of the ship. "Anna, would you like to drive the ship?" he asks. Anna nods, takes a seat in the captain's chair and steers the huge ship across the Persian Gulf on her own for a full two hours. Once again, we are able to experience hospitality. We are infinitely grateful to be able to leave Iran in this way.

In Dubai, we dive into a completely different world. Gone is the chaos on the streets during the last 12 months. Gone are old cars and simple houses. Gone are people on the street smiling at you and inviting you in. We ride our bikes in the evening through a world of glitz and glamour. "Wow, look at the houses and the cars," Anna says excitedly. "Let's get out of the city fast!" counters Carsten, looking at the traffic. We are on the road for a total of four days until we arrive at friends' houses in Abu Dhabi.

We are so grateful for the experiences we made in Iran. We received so much love and we were so lucky in many ways. You can find out how we are feeling inside in the individual reflections from us:

Carsten: "I was very touched by the closeness I felt to the people in Iran. I would like to give something back to them in my everyday life after the trip. I want to be generous to strangers and seek more contact with people I don't know."

Katharina: "In addition to enjoying the extraordinary hospitality, I had phases in Iran with a strong longing for retreat and a desire for home and the familiar. The stronger the contrasts, the more one reflects on one's roots. However, I'm not yet ready to sacrifice the absolute freedom we're experiencing for that."

Anna: "In Iran, I sometimes felt like a star. Everyone wanted to take a picture of me. After the fifth picture, it was often too much for me. The food in Iran was very good, but my plates were always too full and I never managed to finish the portions."

We send you and your loved ones warm greetings from the Persian Gulf and hope that you are well. We would be happy to hear from you!

Katharina, Anna and Carsten

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Our trip in numbers

Kilometers traveled: 13,385

Hours in the saddle: 732

Average kilometers per day: 52

Nights in tent: 134

Nights as guests: 307

Nights in hostels: 52

Number of sunny days: 330

Number of cloudy days: 96