There we are in Iran, the highlight of our journey! We’re just cruising along slowly through deserted canyons and across lower mountains, soaking in the atmosphere. Persian flags and road signs we have no idea about how to read complete the picture.
The next city after the border is Maku – we’re terribly exhausted (the border crossing just lies an hour behind us), thus decide to stay in the only hotel that is provided in our travel guide. Even though the geography of the place is pretty straightforward (literally), it takes us at least an hour to find it – a bunch of taxi drivers finally give us the right directions and we end up in the pretty decent Maku Tourist Inn. Our bikes find a place to sleep in the foyer of the hotel (the next day we can smell a mixture of exhausts, oil and hot rubber even in our room on the upper floor) and we take our first picture with some Iranian tourists who surely haven’t seen many motorbike travellers in their live yet.
Maku isn’t super exciting from a tourist’s perspective (in terms of actual ‘sights’ to be found there) but for us and in this very moment, it’s terrific. The crazy traffic and noise on the street, the language, the millions of flashy signs in Persian script make us realize we’re in a different world now. Crossing the street is a nightmare, at least for us – our strategy for the moment is to simply wait for other people to cross and follow them. Except us, there are zero foreigners around expect a guy from Azerbaijan we meet at the hotel. We already learn the best way to get things done – simply chat up random people on the street and they will either happily help you with whatever you need (restaurants, phone cards, ice cream…) or call someone in who understands English. All just as promised.