United Arab Emirates: The Empty Quarter

237 km and 551m of altitude gain (in total 7,842km and 48,082m of altitude gain)
237 km and 551m of altitude gain (in total 7,842km and 48,082m of altitude gain)

14 – 27 February, 2016 – It was time to end our hippie existence at the beach as our Dubai friends had invited us to a desert trip to the Empty Quarter, an experience we definitely didn’t want to miss. As we had enough time for the slightly more than 200km we hoped to find another beach camp spot in Oman before finally leaving the country. Despite a breathtaking and ear-popping ride on Oman’s most scenic coastal road there was only one suitable beach for us, but having cycled less than 20km we decided to move on not knowing that we wouldn’t find another place for a quiet rest – all of the other beaches were far too small and hence too close to the road. So we ended up crossing the border, which was challenging because we had to deal with the most stupid border officer you can imagine. First he didn’t speak English while only dealing with foreign passports and second he wouldn’t understand how we got to Musandam even though two other officers explained to him several times that we took the ferry. It felt as if we had spent hours at this border post and we were relieved when the guy finally stamped our passports and let us leave. The rest of the day we cycled through one big industrial area on a dusty highway together with hundreds of trucks. No fun at all and we were glad when we finally reached a resthouse, where we pitched our tent next to the empty swimming pool following another nightmarish discussion with the guesthouse staff. We just didn’t want to pay a lot of money for a depressing room and beach camping wasn’t possible due to all the factories.

Musandam Coastal Road:

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Camping next to an empty swimming pool
Camping next to an empty swimming pool

The next day we managed to find a smaller road again next to the sea, a big relief. Right after lunch an Emirati stopped us to take our picture in front of an old museum. He insisted on inviting us for a drink as we objected to having lunch right after lunch. We slowly continued cycling always looking for a good spot to camp. At around 4pm we stopped in a small village at a mosque to refill our water bottles. It was closed though and a nice man next door helped us out. His maid had to refill all our water bottles and after a short chat he invited us for dinner – at a 5-star hotel around 20km further down the beach. He also explained to us where we could camp and so we moved on. I need to add that by now we hadn’t showered in 9 days let alone washed our hair – at the beach in Khasab we used to swim in the sea and wash ourselves with two bottles of fresh water afterwards and in yesterday’s resthouse we were shown to the swimming pool facilities – toilets where we had to use ice-cold water coming from the toilet hose. We felt a little embarrassed entering the fancy hotel that dirty and were wondering if we maybe could get a good deal for a room. Johan asked for the hotel manager and after a longer discussion even the heavily discounted room rate was beyond our budget. But the manager offered us to take a shower at their spa, which was heaven and pure luxury at the same time. With a clean body, clean hair and clean clothes we felt so good again and ready to meet our dinner host. But first we wanted to find a good camp spot. We cycled along the main road of the island and succeeded behind a fence of a construction site. Back at the hotel they didn’t want to let us in again – the hotel turned out to be an All-Inclusive-Place and once in we could have enjoyed food and drinks for free. We explained our situation but were constantly asked who our friend was as we would have had to pay around 80 EUR per person for food and drinks, no matter when we would enter. We couldn’t believe our ears but were finally let in. As agreed we called Omar at 7pm but he didn’t pick up the phone. Same ten minutes later and no response either 20 minutes later. We decided to wait another ten minutes before leaving again when the phone rang and Omar called back. He would be at the hotel in ten minutes he told us.  We waited in front of the hotel lobby and about 45 minutes later Omar arrived in his red Jaguar F-type sports car, parking right in front. In the meantime we had made friends with most of the hotel staff and all were very curious to know who our friend might be. When they saw him, they all grinned and looked understandingly – everybody knew him and he seemed to be a welcome guest. Later he told us that he is working at the presidential palace in Abu Dhabi and he seemed to bring a lot of people to this hotel. At the restaurant the chef grilled special meat for us and came with us for a last photo shoot with the hotel photographer in front of the hotel. Unfortunately we never got the photos as Omar wasn’t able to send emails – when we asked him to email them to us he sent a WhatsApp photo of our photo taken with his smartphone camera :-).

The guy who invited us happened to be a keen motorcyclist
The guy who invited us happened to be a keen motorcyclist
The guy on the left is the one...
The guy on the left is the one…
The only and ominous photo with Omar in front of his car
The only and ominous photo with Omar in front of his car
Camping at a construction site behind a fence
Camping at a construction site behind a fence

The following day we cycled into Sharjah only to find out that camping wasn’t allowed on any of the beaches and we had to look for hotel accommodation once more. Cheeky as we are we went to the Sheraton asking for a good rate for two world cyclists. And we succeeded – we only paid 25% of the normal rate for a double room including buffet breakfast.

A bike race happened to take place on the road we cycled
A bike race happened to take place on the road we cycled
Who else could have been the winner :-)?
Who is the winner? Johan of course!

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Some luxury after weeks of camping
Some luxury after weeks of camping at the Sheraton

After a good night’s sleep and a huge breakfast we cycled the final stretch to get to our friends in Dubai. The route started off nicely with wide palm-tree-lined beaches but would soon turn into an industrial area with narrow 4-lane roads and heavy traffic. I got so scared cycling there that we took a taxi for the last 15km just across the Dubai Creek. From there we once more cycled along the beach road and discovered the Bikers Café – a place where all world travelers eat and drink for free as long as they stay in Dubai. After two coffees, a photo shoot with their photographer and a short interview we said our goodbyes for now.

Our hotel in the background
Our hotel in the background

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This picture is now on the wall of Dubai's Bikers Café
This picture is now on the wall of Dubai’s Bikers Café

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Cycling through a metro station instead of crossing a major highway
Cycling through a metro station instead of crossing a major highway
And finally back in our cosy room 'Chez Nathalie et Stéphane'
And finally back in our cosy room ‘Chez Nathalie et Stéphane’

After a day’s rest and a lot of laundry business we embarked on another exciting trip with Stéphane and Nathalie – a desert trip to the Empty Quarter, close to Liwa. The Empty Quarter is the largest uninterrupted sand desert of the world and made famous by the British explorer Wilfred Thesiger who crossed the desert twice in 1946 and 1947. It covers some 650,000 square kilometers and includes parts of Oman, Saudi-Arabia, UAE and Yemen.

Our car packed till the top we left in the early morning to meet our guide and some other families in four different 4WD cars. To get there we had to drive for about 4 hours on a quite boring road. By lunch time we reached the Empty Quarter and stopped at a beautiful platform overlooking kilometers of sand dunes originally built for the nearby hotel as a remote restaurant but never finished. After lunch we rode further into the desert to find a good campsite, pitched our tents and left for an unforgettable ride through the most beautiful desert scenery we’ve ever seen.

A fully loaded car
A fully loaded car
Getting ready to rock and roll... deflating tires
Getting ready to rock and roll… deflating tires
Yes, there are still unmotorized vehicles in the desert
Yes, there are still live vehicles in the desert
Being the tail of your group means having always a clear view
Being the tail of your group means having always a clear view
Lunch break
Lunch break

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Setting up our dining area
Setting up our dining…
...and sleeping area
…and sleeping area

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Scary moment and yes, we've been there as well. But in contrary to this driver we made it in one go along the dune thanks to our fantastic driver Stéphane
Scary moment and yes, we’ve been there as well. But in contrary to this driver we made it in one go along the dune thanks to our fantastic driver Stéphane

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Drivers' instructions
Drivers’ instructions
Time for some fun in the dunes
Time for some fun in the dunes
Ever changing colors
Ever changing colors…
...and unmatched vistas so close to Saudi-Arabia
…and unmatched vistas so close to Saudi-Arabia
Our camp seen from the top of a dune
Our camp seen from the top of a dune
Stéphane and Nathalie
Stéphane and Nathalie
If you're sitting in the car this feels much steeper than it looks
Another scary moment – if you’re sitting in the car this feels much steeper than it looks
At a salt lake
At the small remainder of a salt lake

We spent two absolutely exciting and fun days and ended the trip with a joint lunch at the desert hotel. Thank you once again Nathalie and Stéphane for giving us the opportunity to join you, it was sooooo cool!

We spent another week in Dubai with Stéphane driving us around to be able to prepare for the continuation of our trip. Johan was busy packing our bikes as I worked and cleaned up all our gear. A few more times we all had lunch at the Bikers Café and on departure day Nathalie and Stéphane drove us to the airport – they needed to make sure we are really leaving 🙂 – and we once more said our goodbyes. We again had a great time at their house and cannot thank them enough for their generosity and hospitality! Hope to see you somewhere soon in this world!

Last days in Dubai
Last days in Dubai
Sundown
Sundown
Last lunch at the Bikers Café with Stéphane on 'Rare disease day' where I got a new high-vis jacket
Last lunch at the Bikers Café with Stéphane on ‘Rare Disease Day’ where I got a new high-vis jacket
Burj Khalifa between the clouds
Burj Khalifa between the clouds

Off to Thailand now!

 

Steep mountains, abundant castles and unrivaled hospitality

587 km and altitude gain of 1907m (7,503 km and altitude gain of 47,110 m in total)
587 km and altitude gain of 1907m (7,503 km and altitude gain of 47,110 m in total)
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102 km and 421 meters altitude gain (7,605 km and altitude gain of 47,531 m in total)

19 January – 13 February, 2016 – We left Nizwa in the late morning and shortly afterwards we also left the highway to cycle through small villages and old abandoned villages. Every Omani gets a plot of land in the village they grew up and they usually rather build a new house than keep an old one. A very unfortunate development we noticed everywhere, people don’t really appreciate the old if it comes to objects. It’s the contrary if it comes to people. Grown and married children continue living with their parents and most houses are full of life with several generations living under one roof. The younger ones take care of the elderly, grandparents take care of their grandchildren and everybody seems to be happy this way. Parents are well respected and always have the last word. We once got invited by an Omani to his old house and he mentioned that he had built a new one but cannot live in it, because his father doesn’t want to move.

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Old and new
Old and new
A fertile oasis
A fertile oasis
From dawn till dusk
From dawn till dusk
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A peaceful camp spot…
and some very welcome visitors eating our food scraps
…and some very welcome visitors eating our food scraps

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Our next longer stop was Al Hamra, a town consisting of many different villages. On day one we walked through a seven kilometer long wadi on an ever winding road with spectacular canyon views to a lonely village consisting of a few houses. The next day we cycled up to Jabal Shams, the highest road in Oman at around 2,000m with a dramatic vista of a 1,000-meter-deep canyon called the Grand Canyon. From there we could see the tiny houses of the village we walked to the day before. It took us six hours for an amazing and mind-blowing 40km-cycle up the stunning mountains and even without luggage we had to walk our bikes several times. Oman has unbelievably steep roads.

A beautiful walk through a wadi: 

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Cycling up the highest road in Oman: 
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Friendly Omanis helping us out with water on these steep slopes

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With our host in Al Hamra
With our host in Al Hamra

After a day’s rest we continued our journey along the mountain range, enjoyed Omani and Western hospitality through Warm Showers (an organization of people offering a place to sleep, to shower and often as well to eat for free), visited beautiful forts and castles along the way and two Unecso World heritage sites. The latter were tombs from about 2000 years ago, where one would assume that there are signs, entrance fees or at least a few explanatory signs. The first sight was already difficult to find as there were no sign posts at all. Once we had found it, we could just climb up the hill and look at the beehive tombs. The second site was even more difficult to find, we only noticed it because of a tiny brown sign stating that this was an archaeological site. Very bizarre!

Bahla
Bahla

At the Bahla fort – a Unesco World Heritage site: 

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With our Warm Showers host in Bahla where we stayed several days
With our Warm Showers host in Bahla with whom we stayed several days
Sightseeing around Bahla
Sightseeing around Bahla
Bahia at sunset
Bahla at sunset
The new computer shop of our host
The new computer shop of our host

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The shared kitchen at our host's house - we had a room at his old house where his staff lives
The shared kitchen at our host’s house – we had a room at his old house where his staff lives
Enjoying a cuppa in the sun
Enjoying a cuppa in the sun

More sightseeing in and around Bahla:

These guys look friendlier than they were - they started throwing stones at us when Johan took their picture
These guys look friendlier than they were – they started throwing stones at us when Johan took their picture

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Jabreen castle – another World Heritage Site:

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On the way to Al Ayn and Bat to see the beehive tombs:

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In the end we did not choose this road as we were afraid it was too remote and too difficult to cycle – instead we returned.
Lunch break
Lunch break at a mosque

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Two nice Belgian cyclists we met several times on the road
Two nice Belgian cyclists we met several times on the road

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The beehive tombs - more than 2000 years old!
The beehive tombs – more than 2000 years old!

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With our wonderful Warm Showers host Catherine in Ibri
With our wonderful Warm Showers host Catherine in Ibri
When we left Ibri we met the guy with the glasses in his fancy sports car who desperately wanted to invite us to demonstrate Omani hospitality - we spent a nice hour with his and a big part of his very big family
When we left Ibri we met the guy with the glasses on the right in his fancy sports car who desperately wanted to invite us to demonstrate Omani hospitality – we spent a nice hour with him and part of his very big family

Having visited many historical sites and having enjoyed the luxury of staying at houses it was time for us to cross the mountain range back to Sohar at the coast, go camping again and make use of the many free wilderness campsites along the way. In Sohar we finally met Salim again, who invited us to a delicious fish meal at the fish market. This time we had to say our final goodbyes to another great Omani we had met on the road.

Sultan Quaboos, the well respected head of Oman
Sultan Quaboos, the well-respected head of Oman
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‘Wadi Al Arshi’ – interesting naming, especially if you are German-speaking

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Back at the park in Sohar again
Back at the park in Sohar again
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Can’t get any better….

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Now we wanted to visit Musandam at the tip of the Arabian peninsula, a remote and rugged part of Oman separated from the rest of the country by the UAE. Cycling there was impossible for us as we couldn’t leave Oman and re-enter the same day on one visa as immigration laws require a gap of at least 30 days in between. For us the only way to get there was to take the bi-weekly ferry to Khasab. While looking for the cheapest ferry option we noticed, that there were Omani Warm Shower hosts close to the harbor about 60km north of Sohar. Happily we cycled along the coast, stopped at a gift shop to buy some chocolate for our soon-to-be-hosts and were welcomed by Khalid, shown into our room, got a delicious lunch served before we were left alone to be able to rest. Hospitality at its best! Khalid, his friends and family spoilt us the coming days and we started to feel heavily embarrassed for all their goodness and generosity. We went sightseeing in the area, each day accompanied by some other friends of the family, they paid for our ferry tickets even though we tried everything to pay ourselves, and to our biggest embarrassment we noticed that they had even paid for first class tickets. And as if that wasn’t enough after a full board accommodation and other treats we got more presents the evening before our departure: Johan a T-shirt and a scarf and I an Omani dress (which I left behind for practical reasons).

Leaving Sohar
Leaving Sohar

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With our Warm Showers hosts in Shinaz: 

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With Omar

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Khalid’s friends, Hashim and Ibrahim
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My new outfit I decided to leave behind even though all Omanis thought it to be so beautiful on me 🙂
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Khalid and Ibrahim
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Ibrahim (on the right) and his nephew cycled with us to the ferry. When I told him that he was wearing a nice shirt he immediately took it off to give it to Johan – there was no way we could refuse this gift!

After a 4-hour ferry journey we disembarked in Khasab and pitched our tent at the huge beach just outside of town where we spent a full week. We made friends with another German couple ‘residing’ there as well in their camper van. We discovered the area by bike and by boat, watched dolphins during our little cruise around the peninsula and saw a stingray swimming along the full length of our beach. Every evening at around 5pm between 20 and 50 small speed boats left the harbor – Iranian smugglers who had to leave Oman before  nightfall. During the day we could see small trucks with all kinds of goods arriving at the harbor and we knew they were destined for Iran. Furthermore we collected shells, enjoyed the sea, built a fence around our home, got annoyed with people being noisy in the middle of the night, got even more annoyed with people throwing garbage carelessly on the beach, smiled at the thousands of cruise tourists arriving almost every other day with their huge cruise boats and just enjoyed our last days in beautiful Oman.

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First class to Khasab
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Our home for a week

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Dolphin watching cruise
Dolphin watching cruise

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Last coffee with our new German friends Andrea und Lutz and another German who had just passed by
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Our fenced area – one day a few Omanis stopped next to our fence, talked with Johan and – when entering ‘our’ area, they were taking off their shoes. Hilarious!
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Bad hair day! But what can you expect after days without a shower 😉
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On our way to a beautiful viewpoint
Arrived and worth all the sweating up the once more very steep road
Arrived and worth all the sweating up the once more very steep road
Well deserved lunch break
Well deserved lunch break
One late afternoon a group of motor club sportscars showed up to have a fun afternoon in Oman
One late afternoon a group of people from a UAE motor club showed up in their sports cars to have a fun afternoon in Oman

 

Two Beach Bums in Oman

771km and 3,578 meters altitude gain (in total 6,916km and 43,097 meters altitude gain)
771km and 3,578 meters altitude gain (in total 6,916km and 43,097 meters altitude gain)

31 December, 2015 – 18 January, 2016 – Muscat is a far-scattered city spread over a mountainous area connected by huge highways. We desperately tried to find a good way to the old part of town still having the nightmarish Dubai experience in our minds, but ended up on another big highway. At the old harbor we stayed at a cheep place where rooms are usually only rented to foreign workers and enjoyed a New Year’s Drink at a hotel overlooking the illuminated harbor. Muslims celebrate their new year sometime in February and as we weren’t staying at a fancy hotel it was a day like any other.

Coffee and dates with the Muscat taxi drivers while Johan is negotiating our room rate
Coffee and dates with the Muscat taxi drivers while Johan is negotiating our room rate; I just got the scarf from a shop owner who advised us a place to stay in case you were wondering.
A room with a view - this is Sheik Quaboos' private yacht
A room with a view – this is Sultan Quaboos’ private yacht
Old Muscat
Old Muscat
Life isn't too bad as a taxi driver in Oman
Life isn’t too bad as a taxi driver in Oman

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The Royal Palace
The Royal Palace

We continued our journey along the scenic coastal road for a few more days. Right after Muscat we faced extremely steep climbs and made little progress. We were headed to the small fishing village Yiti as we wanted to spend a day at the beach there. The location wasn’t ideal and we continued the next day trying to find the shortest way out. We ended up cycling through a beautiful wadi mostly on a gravel road winding itself through a fantastic valley and up and down some hills allowing pretty vistas. Even in this secluded environment we passed small villages and were able to refresh ourselves with cold water at a mosque. Only a few cars passed and by the early afternoon we were back on the highway.

Leaving Muscat, a gardener's heaven as all highways are lined by colourful flowerbeds
Leaving Muscat, a gardener’s heaven as all highways are lined by colourful flowerbeds
Just one of the very steep gradients
Just one of the very steep hills
Beach camp...
Beach camp…
...with a view.
…with a view.

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Wadi Lahloo: 

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On our way to the turtle reserve – our next longer stop – we passed a stunning sink hole and two more scenic wadis and decided to cycle to the end of wadi Tiwi. Suddenly we were surrounded by lush green nature, palm trees and a clear stream bubbling next to the road. Right before the end of the road the water-filled wadi crossed the paved road. Having crossed much deeper water before, I continued cycling and as soon as I was in the water I lost control over the bike and fell. The road was as slippery as ice due to the moss growing on the concrete and I was unable to get my bike back on the wheels without Johan. He was behind but didn’t see the accident as he had taken photos. All he saw later was me sitting in the water trying to get up again. Other than a sore shoulder and wet clothes I and my bike came out of it unhurt.

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At the sink hole
At the sink hole

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Another nice camp spot by the sea
Another nice camp spot by the sea

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Arabs are so photogenic in their white dishdashas
Arabs are so photogenic in their white dishdashas
Wadi Tiwi
Wadi Tiwi
Accident aftermath
Accident aftermath

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Sur: 

Breakfast and hiding from the soon downpour
Breakfast and hiding from a short downpour

We had arrived in Ras al Hadd and the beaches, where the endangered green sea turtles lay their eggs. The main season is March when hundreds of turtles can be spotted on the beaches. But people assured us that they can be seen year round. And we did see two! We had pitched our tent on the beach and at around 9:30pm a guide picked us up in his car to drive us to the first potential turtle beach. With no turtles to be seen we continued to three other beaches. At around 11:30pm we finally succeeded: two huge green sea turtles were busy digging holes. We watched one of them from a distance and once in her final stages we could have a closeup look. She had dug a hole approximately one meter deep and not more than 15cm wide. The eggs are round, look like table tennis balls with a very soft and at the same time strong shell. Once she had finished her business she shoveled the sand back with her hind flippers and walked slowly and exhausted back to the sea. On her way she lost a few more eggs, which we collected and burried with the other eggs. We felt a bit bad because we thought we had maybe disturbed her but learned later, that they are in a kind of ecstatic state during the process without noticing anything around them.

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Selfie-time
Selfie-time

A day at the beach: 

First glance out of the tent checking the weather
First glance out of the tent checking the weather
"I am still sleeping"
“I am still sleeping”
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Our home for a few days
Cooking out of the wind
Cooking out of the wind
Collecting shells
Collecting shells
And taking a shower where the fishermen shower
And taking a shower where the fishermen shower
Turtle watching at night (for those who might be worried about the light: this is a photo of a postcard)
Turtle watching at night (for those who might be worried about the light: this is a photo of a postcard)
A hatchling, which we saw as well as our guide caught one the day before, something we didn't like so much even though he promised to make sure it get's safely into the sea
A hatchling, which we saw as well as our guide caught one the day before, something we didn’t like so much even though he promised to make sure it get’s safely into the sea

Watching a traditional celebration in Ras al Hadd: 

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A very disturbing experience was all the filth and plastic on the beaches. If people do their grocery shopping everything gets packed in plastic bags. They usually don’t even fill them up but take as many as possible instead. I often had to fight and earned laughters or raised eyebrows for reusing old plastic bags or packing everything directly into our panniers. Reusable shopping bags are available but I haven’t seen a single person using them. Omanis also love their beaches and they become crowded as of the late afternoon. They drive in their cars as close to the sea as possible, often don’t even get out of the car, take their food and water packed in plastic bags and once finished the rubbish will be either thrown out of the car or just left behind were they sat even tough there are enough dustbins at public beaches. Official beaches get cleaned up every morning by Indians, Bangladeshis or Pakistanis but everywhere else its eventually blown into the sea.

It was time again to get some exercise and we cycled in the direction of the Al Hajar mountain range, the highest mountains in the eastern Arabian peninsula. We passed the Wahiba sands and saw some massive sand dunes. We spent one night next to a beautiful desert camp, pitching our tent outside the camp as the camp itself was far too expensive for us. It would have been ridiculous anyway to pay for a tent while we have our own tent with us. Oman is the perfect country for camping – it is very safe, there are abundant places to pitch a tent in the nature or at a park where you usually have the convenience of toilets and water and it is warm with little precipitation. Hotels are very expensive, hostels and guesthouses don’t exist, Oman is catering for the rich tourist. This meant for us that camping was the norm with very few hotel treats in between. At the end of a day we would stop at a mosque, fill up our drinking water bottles with chilled water and our washing water bottles with warm water and look for a good place for our tent. The next morning we would again stop at a mosque and besides filling up our drinking water bottles would wash our clothes as well.

Still one more day cycling along the coast
Still one more day cycling along the coast
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Selfie with camels
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These mosques are so convenient – there is always accessible drinking water to fill up empty bottles

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Looking for a camp spot at the end of the day
Looking for a camp spot at the end of the day
Found the perfect spot
Found the perfect spot
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There is always a helping hand on the road

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I think they meant moving sand dunes :-)
I think they meant something like shifting sand dunes 🙂
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At the camp
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Our camp next to the camp

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Leaving the campsite
Leaving the campsite

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Al Kamil castle: 

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We now were a little bit in a hurry because we wanted to visit the Friday cattle market in Nizwa. Again we found ourselves on a dangerous road with heavy and fast traffic and no shoulders for the last 30km before Nizwa. Having arrived we got a fantastic deal at an apartment hotel we couldn’t resist to accept and shortly later we found ourselves in a huge apartment with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living and dining room and a kitchen. The only downside, which turned out to be an upside later, was the fact, that it was on that dangerous road and meant cycling on it every day again to visit Nizwa. On market day we got up early and hitched a ride with an Australian tourist who just left the hotel. The cattle market was fantastic. For hours we watched the sellers negotiating and getting angry with their potential buyers; goats, sheep and cows walked with their owners in circles, some of them quite well behaved, some of them rather pulled their owners and scared off many spectators. Later we strolled through the souk and hitched a ride back to our hotel. Lucky as we are Wilhelm from Namibia stopped and invited us within five minutes to join his barbecue later that day. We spent a fun evening at his house with some of his friends, drinking wine and beer and eating yummy grilled food.

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Acacia tree and thorns we don’t like very much while camping

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Refilling watertanks at a desalination plant

Cycling through Old Nizwa:

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At the cattle market and souk: 

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We stayed a few more days in Nizwa, visiting the beautiful castle and enjoying the luxury of our apartment before we moved on deeper into the mountains.

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Sonne, Sand und Meer

771km and 3,578 meters altitude gain (in total 6,916km and 43,097 meters altitude gain)
771km und 3.578 Höhenmeter (insgesamt 6.916km und 43.097 Höhenmeter)

31. Dezember 2015 – 18. Januar 2016 – Muskat ist eine weit verstreute Stadt, die sich über ein sehr bergiges Gebiet ausdehnt und mit riesigen Autobahnen miteinander verbunden ist. Verzweifelt haben wir nach einem einfachen Weg in die Altstadt gesucht, hatten wir noch immer die Erinnerungen von Dubai im Kopf, kamen aber an den Autobahnen nicht vorbei. Am alten Hafen mieteten wir uns ein billiges Zimmer, das normalerweise nur an Arbeiter vermietet wird und gönnten uns einen Silvester-Drink in einem Hotel mit Blick über den bunt beleuchteten alten Hafen. Moslems feiern den Jahreswechsel erst irgendwann im Februar und da wir wie üblich nicht in einem schicken Hotel untergekommen waren, gab es auch keine besonderen Feierlichkeiten. Es war ein Tag wie jeder andere.

Coffee and dates with the Muscat taxi drivers while Johan is negotiating our room rate
Kaffee und Datteln mit den Taxifahrern in Muskat während Johan den Zimmerpreis aushandelt. Den Schal bekam ich übrigens kurz zuvor von einem Ladenbesitzer, der uns den Tipp mit dem Zimmer gegeben hatte.
A room with a view - this is Sheik Quaboos' private yacht
Zimmer mit Ausblick – auf die private Yacht von Sultan Quaboos
Old Muscat
Altstadt von Muskat
Life isn't too bad as a taxi driver in Oman
Das Leben als Taxifahrer im Oman könnte schlechter sein

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The Royal Palace
Der königliche Palast

Weiter ging es die nächsten Tage auf dem malerischen Küstenweg. Kurz nach Muskat musste wir extrem steile Berge hoch und runter fahren und kamen daher nur sehr langsam voran. Wir waren auf dem Weg in das kleine Fischerdorf Yiti, da wir dort einen Tag am Strand verbringen wollten. Dort angekommen, gefiel es uns doch nicht so und wir fuhren am nächsten Tag weiter. Auf der Suche nach dem kürzesten Weg zurück zum Highway radelten wir durch einen wunderschön einsamen Wadi, meist auf einer unbefestigten Straße und immer wieder steil nach oben. Wir genossen fantastische Aussichten und obwohl wir uns fast wie am Ende der Welt vorkamen, tauchte nach einer Kurve immer wieder ein kleines Dorf auf. Wir konnten uns sogar bei einer Moschee mit kaltem Wasser erfrischen. Nur wenige Autos fuhren an uns vorbei und am frühen Nachmittag waren wir wieder auf der Hauptstraße.

Leaving Muscat, a gardener's heaven as all highways are lined by colourful flowerbeds
Hinter Muskat, ein Traum für Gärtner, da alle Hauptstraßen mit farbenfrohen Blumenbeeten bepflanzt sind.
Just one of the very steep gradients
Der Beginn vieler steiler Berge, die noch kommen sollten
Beach camp...
Zelten am Strand…
...with a view.
…mit schöner Aussicht.

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Wadi Lahloo: 

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Wir waren jetzt auf dem Weg zu den Stränden, wo Schildkröten ihre Eier legen. Auf dem Weg kamen wir an einer faszinierenden Senkgrube vorbei, in der man auch baden kann und zwei weitere, dieses Mal ganz andere Wadis. Wir fuhren mit den Rädern im Wadi Tiwi und waren plötzlich von Palmen und grüner Landschaft umgeben, ganz ungewohnt für unseren Augen, die mehr an die vielen Erdtöne gewohnt waren. Dieser Wadi führte auch Wasser und kurz vor Ende der Straße kreuzte das Wasser die Straße. Da ich bereits zahlreiche Flüsse überquert hatte, machte ich mir keine großen Gedanken und fuhr langsam weiter, verlor aber sofort die Kontrolle über das Rad und fiel. Die Straße war moosbewachsen und eisglatt. Ich konnte noch nicht einmal alleine mein Fahrrad wieder aufrichten, so glatt war die Straße. Johan hatte das alles nicht mitbekommen, da er am Fotografieren war. Alles was er zu sehen bekam, war mich im Wasser sitzend. Außer einer leicht schmerzenden Schulter sind sowohl ich als auch das Fahrrad mit dem Schrecken davongekommen.

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At the sink hole
An der Senkgrube

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Another nice camp spot by the sea
Ein weiterer schöner Zeltplatz am Strand

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Arabs are so photogenic in their white dishdashas
Araber sind so photogen in ihren weißen Dishdashas
Wadi Tiwi
Wadi Tiwi
Accident aftermath
Nach dem Unfall

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Sur: 

Breakfast and hiding from the soon downpour
Frühstück und Schutz vor dem bevorstehenden Regen

Mittlerweile waren wir in Ras al Hadd und an den Stränden, an denen die bedrohten grünen Schildkröten ihre Eier legen. Sie werden im Deutschen auch Suppenschildkröten genannt, womit klar wird, warum sie bedroht sind. Hauptsaison ist eigentlich erst im März, wenn Hunderte von Schildkröten nachts am Strand beobachtet werden können. Uns wurde aber versichert, dass sie das ganze Jahr über Eier legen.  Und wir haben tatsächlich zwei gesehen! Wir hatten unser Zelt am Strand aufgestellt und gegen 21:30 Uhr holte uns ein Guide ab, um mit uns die Strände abzufahren. Am vierten Strand hatten wir dann gegen 23:30 Uhr Glück: zwei grüne Schildkröten waren dabei, ihr Loch zu graben, um darin ihre Eier zu legen. Wir beobachten eine davon mit großem Abstand, um sie nicht zu stören. Erst als sie wirklich Eier legte, durften wir den Prozess aus der Nähe betrachten. Das Loch war ungefähr einen Meter tief und nur ca. 15cm breit. Die Eier sind rund und sehen wie Tischtennisbälle aus, mit einer weichen und zugleich sehr robusten Schale. Als sie fertig war, schüttete sie das Loch mit ihren Hinterflossen zu und lief langsam und erschöpft in Richtung Meer. Dabei verlor sie noch vier Eier, die wir dann bei den anderen Eiern vergruben. Wir hatten ein ziemlich schlechtes Gewissen, da wir dachten, die Schildkröte beim Eierlegen gestört zu haben, erfuhren aber später, dass die Tiere beim Eierlegen nichts mehr um sich herum mitbekommen und waren wieder beruhigt.

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Selfie-time
Zeit für Selfies

Ein Tag am Strand: 

First glance out of the tent checking the weather
Erster Blick aus dem Zelt, um nach dem Wetter zu schauen
"I am still sleeping"
“Ich schlafe noch!”
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Unser Zuhause für ein Paar Tage
Cooking out of the wind
Unsere Küche
Collecting shells
Muscheln sammeln am Strand
And taking a shower where the fishermen shower
Duschen, wo die Fischer duschen
Turtle watching at night (for those who might be worried about the light: this is a photo of a postcard)
Beim Schildkröten-Beobachten (für all diejenigen Tierschützer, die hier jetzt wegen des Fotos Bedenken haben: das ist ein Foto einer Postkarte)
A hatchling, which we saw as well as our guide caught one the day before, something we didn't like so much even though he promised to make sure it get's safely into the sea
Und hier eine frisch geschlüpfte Schildkröte, die wir auch gesehen haben, da unser Guide eine tags zuvor gefangen hatte, was wir natürlich nicht so toll fanden, er versprach uns aber, sie bald wieder freizulassen.

Bei einer traditionellen Zeremonie in Ras al Hadd: 

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Was uns sehr gestört hat, war der ganze Plastikmüll an den Stränden. Einkaufstaschen gibt es zwar, die werden aber nicht genutzt und im Supermarkt wird alles in Hunderte von Plastiktüten verpackt. Ich musste oft hart darum kämpfen, gebrauchte Plastiktüten verwenden zu dürfen oder eben gar keine, weil ich alles direkt in meine Radtaschen packte. Meist erntete ich ungläubiges Kopfschütteln oder wurde ausgelacht. Und wenn ich dann erklärte, warum ich das machte, schaute ich meist in noch ungläubigere Gesichter. Omanis lieben ihre Strände und ab dem späten Nachmittag fahren alle an den Strand, natürlich mit dem Auto und natürlich so dicht ans Wasser wie nur möglich, oft kommen sie noch nicht einmal aus dem Auto raus. Es wird dann oft gepicknickt und Essensreste und Plastiktüten bleiben dann einfach liegen oder werden aus dem Auto rausgeworfen, die Wenigsten räumen ihren Müll weg, obwohl an öffentlichen Stränden immer ausreichend Mülleimer – oft in Containergröße – rumstehen. Am nächsten Morgen kommt ja der Inder, Bangladeshi oder Pakistani, die den Strand wieder aufräumen, zumindest an den offiziell gekennzeichneten Stränden. An allen anderen landet alles irgendwann im Meer.

Nach ein Paar Tagen am Strand war es wieder Zeit für ein bisschen Bewegung und wir radelten in Richtung Al Hajar Berge, den höchsten Bergen der östlichen arabischen Halbinsel. Es ging vorbei an den Wahiba Sands mit seinen berühmten und wunderschönen Sanddünen. Eine Nacht stellten wir unser Zelt vor einem Wüstencamp auf, da das Camp selbst für uns viel zu teuer war. Und es ist ja auch ziemlicher Schwachsinn, für ein Zelt zu bezahlen, während wir ein eigenes dabei haben. Oman ist perfekt zum Zelten – es ist eines der sichersten Länder der Welt, Zeltplätze wie Parks mit Toiletten und oft sogar Duschen oder eben in der Natur gibt es ausreichend und das Wetter ist mit wenig Niederschlag hervorragend. Hotels sind sehr teuer, Hostels oder Gasthäuser gibt es nicht, der Oman-Tourismus ist auf den betuchten Touristen ausgerichtet. Aus diesem Grund haben wir während unserer Zeit im Oman fast ausschließlich gezeltet und die wenigen Hotelaufenthalte waren dann eine willkommene Belohnung. Am Ende des Tage hielten wir dann immer an einer Moschee, um unsere Trinkwasserflaschen mit Trinkwasser und unsere Waschwasserflaschen mit warmem Waschwasser aufzufüllen und suchten uns dann einen schönen Platz für unser Zelt. Am nächsten Morgen hielten wir wieder an einer Moschee, dieses Mal, um unsere Trinkwasserflaschen wieder aufzufüllen und unsere Klamotten zu waschen.

Still one more day cycling along the coast
Ein letzter Tag entlang des Meeres
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Selfie mit Kamelen
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Moscheen sind für Reisende sehr angenehm, da immer gekühltes Trinkwasser öffentlich zugänglich ist.

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Looking for a camp spot at the end of the day
Auf der Suche nach einem Zeltplatz am Ende des Tages
Found the perfect spot
Gefunden!
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Immer wieder nette Omanis, die uns aushelfen

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I think they meant moving sand dunes :-)
Animierte Sanddünen – hier hat wohl ein automatisches Übersetzungstool zugeschlagen – gemeint sind Wanderdünen.
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Beim Camp in den Wahiba Sands
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Unser Zelt vor dem Camp

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Leaving the campsite
Weiter geht’s

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Al Kamil Schloss: 

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Mittlerweile hatten wir es ein wenig eilig, da wir den Freitagsviehmarkt in Nizwa besuchen wollten. Die letzten 30km nach Nizwa waren wieder besonders gefährlich, da wir auf einer engen Straße mit viel Verkehr und ohne Seitenstreifen radeln mussten und das, obwohl wir dachten, wir hätten uns eine ruhige Nebenstraße ausgesucht. In Nizwa heil angekommen, durften wir in einem Apartment-Hotel zum Preis übernachten, den wir bezahlen wollten und konnten. Wir bekamen ein riesiges Apartment mit zwei Schlafzimmern, zwei Bädern, einer Küche und einem Wohn-/Esszimmer. Der einzige Nachteil, der sich später als Vorteil entpuppte, war, dass dieses Hotel an der gefährlichen Straße lag und wir täglich ca. 5km darauf in die Stadt hätten radeln müssen. Wir entschieden uns aber, zu trampen und durften am Markttag frühmorgens mit einem australischen Touristen im Auto in die Stadt fahren. Der Viehmarkt war sensationell. Stundenlang beobachteten wir die Verkäufer, die mit ihren potenziellen Käufern verhandelten und oft auch sehr verärgert wieder abzogen, weil der gebotene Preis wahrscheinlich viel zu niedrig war. Ziegen, Schafe und Kühe liefen mit ihren Besitzern zur Begutachtung im Kreis, einige der Tiere machten das augenscheinlich nicht zum ersten Mal, andere zogen ihre Besitzer mehr durch die erschreckte Menge als andersherum. Später spazierten wir noch durch den Souk und trampten wieder nach Hause. Innerhalb von fünf Minuten hielt Wilhelm aus Namibia, der uns kurzerhand zu sich zum Grillen einlud. Wir hatten einen wunderschönen Abend mit einigen seiner Freunde, tranken Wein und Bier und genossen das leckere Essen.

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Dornen eines Akazienbaumes, den wir beim Zelten nicht so gerne sehen

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Auffüllen von Wassertanks an einer Entsalzungsanlage

Die Altstadt von Nizwa:

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Auf dem Viehmarkt und im Souk: 

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Wir blieben noch ein Paar Tage in Nizwa, schauten uns die schöne Burg an und genossen den Luxus unseres Apartments, bevor wir tiefer in die Berge fuhren.

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Dishdashas, Kumars and Massars

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547 km and 1,242 meters altitude gain (in total 6,194km and altitude gain of 39,586 m)

20 – 31 December, 2015 – We liked Oman right from the very beginning. The weather was great, people were great, cycling was great – most of the times. On our first day cycling to the coast we stopped in a small village to fix a puncture and fill up our water bottles and were soon surrounded by Omanis who invited us to stay. As we hadn’t cycled much that day we were keen on moving on and declined. We were cycling through rugged mountains on a relatively quiet road and reached Sohar in the early afternoon. As always, we checked out the luxury Sohar Beach Hotel for Wifi and asked if we could pitch the tent in their garden. Wifi wasn’t an issue at all and for camping they advised the nearby park by the beach where there were also showers and toilets. What more do you need? A SIM-card of course. Which was a few hours later provided by Salim, another Omani who saw us pitching the tent and desperately wanted to help us. We exchanged phone numbers as he lived near Muscat with family elsewhere and he invited us to stay at his place.

Breaking up camp next to the border
Breaking up camp next to the border
Johan fixing a flat tire in front of a mosque
Johan fixing a flat tire in front of a mosque
The Omanis who wanted us to stay
The Omanis who wanted us to stay

We were now cycling south along the coast and through small fishing villages looking for a beach hangout to take some days off of the bike. A difficult mission as we didn’t want to go to one of the expensive beach resorts nor pitch the tent somewhere where there wasn’t fresh water easily available. Cycling was a piece of cake as we cruised with the wind enjoying a quiet road almost all the time along unspoiled beaches. The villages were bizarre though. A lot of old houses along the road were broken down with the debris just laying around. Fishermen were still doing their business and a few shops were open but the whole atmosphere was odd. We were told that the government was planning to build a new coastal highway and had started relocating people living in that area.

It is hard to see women on the streets and even harder to take a photo of them
It is hard to see women on the streets and even harder to take a photo of them
School kids
School kids

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And gone they are
And gone they are
Workers
Workers
Fishmarket in Sohar
Fishmarket in Sohar

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Here we stayed one night with a lovely family
Here we stayed one night with a lovely family
One of the many castles that can be found in Oman
One of the many castles that can be found in Oman

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Thankfully tastes are all different
Thankfully tastes are all different
A very common way to cross highways - not just for cyclists but everything that fits through
A very common way to cross highways – not just for cyclists but everything that fits through

After a few days we reached the Millennium Beach Resort, another 4-star hotel by the beach. As we needed WiFi and were still looking for our beach hangout Johan checked with the reception desk if we could pitch the tent somewhere on their property. We could and were sent to the far end of the hotel next to the sailing school. Happily we pitched our tent on a small piece of grass and went to the swimming pool. Unfortunately we didn’t consider that we were in a very dry environment and green grass will only stay green if watered regularly and we both woke with a start at 2am when the sprinklers went off! Thankfully we didn’t pitch the tent on one of these guys but the tent still got pretty wet. Despite the ‘rain’ we wanted to stay longer as Christmas was approaching and the sailing school offered us one of their changing rooms for the following nights. So we continued enjoying some of the luxuries of a 4-star hotel such as Wifi, swimming pool, beach, towels and a daily shower without paying anything for it and treated ourselves to a fine Christmas lunch and drinks.

It can't get much nicer...
It can’t get much nicer…
...except for the views maybe ;-)?
…except for the views maybe ;-)?
Our 'bedroom
Our ‘bedroom’

After three days we eventually continued, this time no longer along the coast but in the direction of the mountains, as Salim expected us in Al Rustaq, a little town at the bottom of the mountains with hot springs and an old castle. On the way we met Derek, an English archaeologist and professor at the Muscat University, who invited us to stay at his house in Al Rustaq for the night. With a bunch of students he was looking for historical artefacts in the Batinah region. As soon as we had reached the town we called Salim. Unfortunately he had to return to Muscat that day and was disappointed that we hadn’t arrived the day before as originally planned. He took us around in his car to show us his town and renewed his invitation for Muscat. Fortunately we had met Derek and at his house we joined his students’ briefing and learned a lot about the Batinah coast – a formerly fertile area due to a unique ancient system of water channels called Falaj. Nowadays there is hardly any vegetation as fresh water resources become wasted by seawater due to the overconsumption of fresh water.

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Al Rustaq
Al Rustaq
With Salim
With Salim
At a Falaj, the water has a temperature of 40 degrees Celsius
At a Falaj, the water has a temperature of 40 degrees Celsius
Don't they all look gorgeous in their dishdashas?
Don’t they all look gorgeous in their dishdashas? We really loved their dresses, the hat is by the way called kumar and the turban massar.
The pole belongs to the traditional dress and is used for protection from animals
The stick belongs to the traditional dress and is used for protection from animals
Another canal, water will be released at certain times only
Another canal, water will be released at certain times only
With Salim in front of the closed Al Rustaq fort
With Salim in front of the closed Al Rustaq fort

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After a lovely and educative breakfast with Derek we continued our journey along the chocolate brown mountains and back in the direction of the coast. As we wanted to visit another castle in the area we pitched our tent at a nearby source. We thought this was a great idea as we could swim in the river with a water temperature of around 40 degrees Celsius. Signs were advising tourists not to use soap in the water but in the pool Indians, Pakistanis and later also some Omanis sat washing themselves – with soap of course. As it was the weekend it also wasn’t a good overnight place. People kept coming for a swim and partying until as late as 2am. On the nearby parking they were spinning their cars – a very stupid and scary hobby – or riding them through the hot river. Shattered we left the site the following morning to visit the castle and continued later cycling on one of the most dangerous roads in Oman: heavy traffic, no shoulder and very narrow lanes.

Leaving al Rustaq after a rainy night
Leaving al Rustaq after a rainy night

Leaving Al Rustaq after a rainy night

Door frame decoration
Door frame decoration

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Lunch break
Lunch break
All you need: a shop where you can buy love or maybe birds or fish, a shop to repair bikes and a coffeeshop!
All you need: love, bikes and coffee

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The Nakal castle in its full glory
The Nakal castle in its full glory

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Back at the coast we called Salim again. In the meantime he had left for work in Sohar but he asked his brother Faris to pick us up to sleep at his place. The family lives on a small farm with different houses and we got our own house and were told to stay as long as we liked. The same evening Faris took us out for dinner and we made a big mistake. We paid the bill without him knowing and Faris got extremely upset about it. We thought it as a nice gesture for being able to stay at his place but Omani hospitality requires to take care of everything. We stayed two more nights, met the women of the family and a few more of Salim’s brothers and sisters, went to the beach and left on New Year’s Eve to Muscat without having seen Salim again.

At a small camel farm of one of Faris' friends
At a small camel farm of one of Faris’ friends

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At the souk
At the souk
At the fish market
At the fish market
On the way to the beach
On the way to the beach and next to the Royal Palace
At the beach
At the beach
With Faris and his mother
With Faris and his mother

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Bling Bling

220km (5.726km in total)
220km (5.726km in total)

9 – 20 December, 2016 – After a chaotic boarding procedure in Iran, a departure delay of almost two hours and a pleasant Persian Gulf crossing we arrived at Dubai harbour at 4pm. By the time we had left the boat and passed the immigration checks it was dark. We still had to cycle around 25 km to our friends’ house and quickly got going. The streets were well illuminated and so were all the fancy shops we passed. We were riding along the beach road – the smallest road we could find on our map – only to find out it still was a four-lane highway. Big and fancy cars passed us at 100 km/h on this shoulderless street. If we were lucky and the passing lane was free they would give us enough room to overtake, if not we had to share the lane and hope for the best. At best they would honk angrily to let us know we’re not wanted there. After about 22km and an hour later, having passed the poshest shops we’ve seen in five months selling about everything we’d almost forgotten about, we finally left this highway. Relieved we took a deep breath, thankful we made it this far unhurt, only to see us cycling onto an even bigger highway, this time three lanes wide. At first we thought, well, at least there is a shoulder. But after a few hundred meters we noticed we had to cross these three lanes – at night, with fast and constant traffic. Somehow we made it and even managed to avoid another three-lane crossing by pushing our bikes through deep sand. The last three kilometers took us almost as long as the the first 22km! Dubai has been clearly built for motorists. We cycled in many metropolises before including Istanbul, Bangkok and Delhi but never ever had we experienced anything as difficult as this. Finally at our destination we were warmly welcomed by the Ferrault family.

Our captain
Our captain
Impressive first vista of Dubai
Impressive skyline of Dubai
At the harbour
At the harbour

Dubai was shocking at first. We had been cycling for five months in some of the poorest countries in the world, including two months in Iran where most western brands are banned and even in the most touristic cities such as Esfahan or Shiraz there weren’t any restaurants serving a single western dish. And in Dubai there was suddenly everything. From beautifully and expensively decorated luxury shops, modern clinics, posh cafés and even posher restaurants to luxury 6-star hotels. There would be a small traditional shop selling dishdashs (traditional men’s outfit of this region) next to a Starbucks next to an old mosque next to a Lamborghini reseller next to a McDonalds next to an Indian tailor sewing on an old-fashioned sewing mashine. The Dubai Mall is the biggest shopping mall in the world. We’ve never seen anything alike – wide alleys, beautifully decorated and shops selling all the things we don’t fancy (anymore).

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Vista of the Burj Khalifa and all the construction still going on
Vista of the Burj Khalifa and all the construction still going on

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And Dubai was fantastic at last. Nathalie and Stéphane could not have been any better hosts. We had a lovely room with a real bed – a luxury after months of sleeping mainly on the floor – and I slept like a baby only to wake up again by the distant morning call for prayer. At their beautiful house we felt home at once and enjoyed every minute. Together we went to see Old Dubai, had a barbecue in the desert, went to nice restaurants, once even with a vista of the Burj Khalifa and a water fountain show in front of it, drank wine and beer, a long missed treat especially for Johan and had a really fun time. At the cinema we couldn’t believe that our snack was served in the theatre! We also spent a lot of time at the house, catching up on email and Skype with friends and family, enjoying their garden and pool and refilling our batteries. Thank you Nathalie and Stéphane for a wonderful time!

Working with a garden view
Working with a garden view
The elegant and beautiful Burj Khalifa
The elegant and beautiful Burj Khalifa, the World’s tallest building standing at 829.8m
Glamour and glitter
Glamour and glitter

Into the Arabian sands: 

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Orynx
Oryx
Desert barbecue
Desert barbecue

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Desert sunset
Desert sunset

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A stroll through Old Dubai by the Creek: 

Stéphane, Nathalie and Clara
Stéphane, Nathalie and Clara

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At the Souk: 

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It must have been a tough day...
It must have been a tough day…

Dubai was a great experience, also to see so many different cultures living peacefully next to each other. At the beach you see women in the smallest bikinis sitting next to an Arab family with women fully covered. Nobody seems to be bothered about anything and everybody does what they like.

Cycling to the beach
Cycling to the beach

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Time flew by and after about a week we moved on again to cycle through the desert to Oman. Would we have liked Dubai if we hadn’t been with such hospitable and caring hosts? I doubt it. We are definitely no big city fans, even less so if they are so cycling unfriendly. In the end it once more all goes back to the people you spend your time with and how they make you see a place.

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Leaving Dubai was OK, less stressful than arriving despite the huge highways. We spent the night camping in the desert only to find ourselves at an important entry point for desert tours with 4WDs and quads passing our little tent all night. On the day we were supposed to cross the border we stopped at a shopping mall in Al Ain, when two Emiratis started talking to us and invited us for lunch at a Café. They didn’t order anything, but made sure we ordered enough to eat. They paid, left and left us baffled. At the border we paid our UAE exit fee and cycled another 50km to the Omani border post always wondering if we had missed it but right before dawn we made it, bought our visas and pitched the tent just a few hundred meters away in the bush.

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Cyclists not allowed, but what's the alternative?
Cyclists not allowed, but what’s the alternative?
The idea was to cycle via Hatta to Oman, but we were refused at the border without explanation. Later we learned that they had arrested 6 terrorists a few months ago exactly at this border crossing and closed the border for all non-emiratis
The idea was to cycle via Hatta to Oman, but we were refused at the border without explanation. Later we learned that they had arrested 6 terrorists a few months ago exactly at this border crossing and closed the border for all non-Emiratis
Pitching the tent one last time before the border
Pitching the tent one last time before the border
Entrance of the Dubai mall
Entrance of the Al Ain mall
Lunchtime with our donors
Lunchtime with our donors

Where is Ali Baba?

xxxlm, xxxxx
800km and 2,551 meters altitude gain (5,378km and 36,539 meters altitude gain in total)

 

25 November – 9 December, 2015 – We couldn’t wait to see the sea again and were very curious about what to expect as neither our two travel guides nor our extensive internet research would deliver any results. Would it be purely industrial with one petrochemical site after the other? Would it be desolate with little settlements? Would it be dangerous as we were told?

After a few more twisting roads and ups and downs we reached the coast. The first village was pretty with a little beach and a lot of fishermen. We could stock up on food but unfortunately had to continue along the main highway as that was the only coastal road. It suddenly was hot again with temperatures rising up to 30 degrees. We loved it but still had to get used to it as we were coming from the mountains with overheated houses at freezing night temperatures. Leaving that village, the scenery suddenly became dreadful: All day long we cycled along petrochemical plants. We could smell the gas and it felt very unhealthy and we thought that our nightmare might have come true. Later we learned that the gas extraction plants we passed were one of the biggest in the world. Still the Ali Baba warnings in our ears we stayed in Assalouyeh at an overly expensive hotel very anxious about the coming 400 kilometers as we feared it would continue just as that.

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Ambush interview with an Iranian radio station
Ambush interview with an Iranian radio station

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Right around the corner is the first fishermen's village
Right around the corner is the first fishermen’s village
The sea, the sea!
The sea, the sea!

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The world seen from an Iranian perspective
The world seen from an Iranian perspective
Still pretty...
Still pretty…
...becoming more industrial...
…becoming more industrial…
...not so pretty anymore.
…and now not so pretty anymore.

But it didn’t. In fact, it was the most beautiful landscape we had seen in Iran. It looked a bit like the Grand Canyon in the US at the seaside, just a little smaller, with its many canyons and reddish rocky mountains. To the right the turquoise sea roared and we cycled from one amazing site to another and through little fishermen villages. Still, after every turn we feared to finally meet Ali Baba, but he must have been busy with other things and most likely isn’t too much into cycling.

A beautiful and protected nature park right after Assalouyeh
A beautiful and protected nature park right after Assalouyeh…
...and sadly the beach is still full with garbage
…and sadly the beach is still full with garbage.
Is he Ali Baba?
Is he Ali Baba?
The pyramid next to the road is a water reservoir, which are abundant in this part of Iran
The pyramid next to the road is a water reservoir, which are abundant in this part of Iran
Which was first? The road or the power pole?
Which was first? The road or the power pole?

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Two nights we spent at a small village as we surprisingly discovered that there was a Warmshowers host. Warmshowers is a community for touring cyclist offering a bed, showers and often food for free. As we had contacted Mehran only the day before and he would not be back from work before 8pm we were welcomed by the village people, sat next to the road drinking tea and eating fruit. Mehran told us that either his father or uncle – a teacher – would pick us up. When an English teacher arrived and urged us to quickly come with him, we of course thought it was Mehran’s uncle. But he was just a teacher keen on having visitors which we only learned later when Mehran arrived asking “Who stole my guests?”. Hassan, the English teacher, turned out to be a little paranoid. He has had a rough past as he had been tortured while he was a student for his clear anti-government attitude. He constantly stressed that he has been taking pills against a depression for the past ten years, but when he told us that Merkel had been a spy for the KGB, we got our doubts about a lot of other things he told us about his country. Nonetheless we had a wonderful stay at Hassan’s house with his wife spoiling us with delicious food.

The welcome committee at the village
The welcome committee at the village
Suddenly the women wouldn't wear merely black and I looked much less like a bird of paradise
Suddenly the women wouldn’t wear merely black and I looked much less like a bird of paradise
If this isn't delicious...
If this isn’t delicious…
Sightseeing with Hassan
Sightseeing with Hassan

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With Hassan, left of Johan, his son and a friend

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Family photo with Hassan's family
Family photo with Hassan’s family

The second night we would eventually stay with our ‘real’ host after Mehran had organized a short cycling trip with the village children. We were lucky having met Mehran’s parents as well as his father is a very educated man, a writer and very knowledgable about literature and other things. He asked many questions about our culture, politics and Western views on events and we spent a wonderful evening discussing the World. Thank you Mehran and Maria for a wonderful time at your place!

Just some of the kids joining our little bike tour
Just some of the kids joining our little bike tour
We've had sooooo much fun!
We’ve had sooooo much fun!
Mehran's family. Mehran is the second from the lefthand his father is carrying his baby with me standing between Maria and Mehran's mother
Mehran’s family. Mehran is the second from the left and his father is carrying his baby with me standing between Maria and Mehran’s mother

Here we also learned that the coast was very safe to travel and that all we heard before was bullshit and going back once more to religion: The majority of Iranians are Shia Moslems whereas almost all Sunni Moslems live at the Persian Gulf. Sunni Moslems get often discriminated with not having access to the same infrastructure as Shias. E.g. the roads in this area are much worse, there is not always access to electricity or water as in other parts of Iran. Sunnis speak mostly Arabic and are disparagingly called “Arabs”. Hence, these animosities.

One evening when looking for a place to sleep, a man, who led us to a mosque, offered Johan money for me, after he had ‘accidentally’ touched me twice. Johan got very worried, that this man would show up at night and we very happily accepted an invitation of an Arabian living and working in this village.

On the road again
On the road again

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Tailwind!
Tailwind!

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At the Arabian's house
At the Arabian’s house

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Coffee break behind an abandoned building
Coffee break behind an abandoned building

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It's very hot
It’s very hot
Dinner with fish at a family's house
Dinner with fish at a family’s house
Our hosts - the woman with the facial mask was clearly the boss of a huge family
Our hosts – the woman with the facial mask was clearly the boss of a huge family

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A nice fishermen's village
A nice fishermen’s village

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A typical beach in Iran: small platforms - with or without roof - and a barbecue in front. At the back toilets and showers, perfect for camping as long as you don't mind people's chatters until the wee hours
A typical beach in Iran: small platforms – with or without roof – and a barbecue in front. At the back toilets and showers, perfect for camping as long as you don’t mind people’s chatters until the wee hours
Beautiful sunset
Beautiful sunset
Beach cleaning at sunrise
Beach cleaning at sunrise
Johan and his least favorite friend
Johan and his least favorite friend

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Great load factor
Great load factor
A typical roundabout usually featuring something typical from the region - the Quran can be found most often, no surprise
A typical roundabout usually featuring something typical from the region – the Quran of course is displayed most often…
...and here some prawns for a change.
…and here some prawns for a change.
Even the youngest ride a motorbike
Even the youngest ride a motorbike

After more than a week in this remote and stunning area we took a ferry to the more touristy island Queshm and we spent a few days at a relaxing guesthouse. We met two other touring cyclists, cycled and walked through a Unesco Geopark before we finally returned back to Bandar Lengeh to take a ferry to Dubai.

Squeezed in between the cars on the ferry
Squeezed in between the cars on the ferry
Cycling through an old fishermen's village famous for its many wind towers
Cycling through an old fishermen’s village famous for its many wind towers
The same village seen from the Portuguese castle or what's left from it
The same village seen from the Portuguese castle or what’s left from it

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The old harbor
The old harbor
A lot of camels
A lot of camels
Shipyard where wooden ships are still built like 100 years ago
Shipyard where wooden ships are still built like 100 years ago
Ali Baba?
Ali Baba?

At the Unesco Geopark:

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At our guesthouse with the owner and the two other cyclists Heiner and Patrick
At our guesthouse with the owner and the two other cyclists Heiner and Patrick
Last day on the island
Last day on the island
A refugee camp outside a small town back on the mainland
A refugee camp outside a small town back on the mainland
Enjoying one more Iranian hospitality
Enjoying one more Iranian hospitality – the kids of our host
Fresh crabs as a starter...
Fresh crabs as a starter…
...and shark as a main.
…and shark as a main.
Our room for the night
Our room for the night

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Last full day cycling in Iran
Last full day cycling in Iran
Last time camping in Iran at the beach
Last time camping in Iran at the beach
Last night spent with an Iranian host
Last night spent with an Iranian host
At the harbor - and no, this is not our ferry
At the harbor – and no, this is not our ferry
Our luxury speed boat to Dubai
Our luxury speed boat to Dubai
Bye bye Iran
Bye bye Iran

Our two months in Iran were filled with lots of pleasant encounters with the most hospitable people we’ve ever met. However, people are very unconfident. Never ever had we been asked so often to tell the World that Iranians are good people. While people are very proud of their heritage, they aren’t of their government. They would always avoid political issues, be it because they feared any consequences or because they were afraid about our opinions. Iran has many humanitarian issues to be resolved, freedom of expression isn’t existing, the media are controlled by the Iranian mullahs and internet access is blocked to an extend that it really gets annoying. The country is run by conservative clergymen, the president acting as a puppet.

Given the amount of traffic and the lack of smaller, traffic free roads, we weren’t in cyclists’ heaven but still felt safe on the road at all times. We were sad leaving behind this hospitable country but very excited about our next destination, the United Arab Emirates.

Wo ist Ali Baba?

xxxlm, xxxxx
800km, 2.551 Höhenmeter (insgesamt 5.378km und 36.539 Höhenmeter)

25. November – 9. Dezember 2015 – Wir konnten es kaum erwarten, endlich das Meer zu sehen und waren sehr neugierig, was uns erwarten würde. Denn weder unsere zwei Reiseführer noch unsere Internetrecherche lieferten irgendwelche hilfreichen Informationen. Würden wir an einer Gasförderanlage nach der anderen vorbeifahren? Würde es sehr einsam werden mit nur wenigen Dörfern und noch weniger Menschen? Oder würde es sogar gefährlich werden, immerhin wurden wir ja vor Ali Baba gewarnt?

Nach ein Paar weiteren sich windenden Straßen und mehrfachem Auf und Ab erreichten wir endlich die Küste. Das erste Dorf war sehr hübsch mit einem kleinen Strand und vielen Fischern. Wir füllten unsere Vorräte auf, mussten aber leider auf der Hauptstraße weiterfahren, da dies die einzige Küstenstraße war. Auf einmal war es wieder heiß mit Temperaturen von bis zu 30 Grad. Wir fanden das zwar super, mussten uns aber trotzdem erst wieder daran gewöhnen, kamen wir doch aus den Bergen mit Nachtfrost, wo am Vorabend noch stark geheizt wurde. Kaum hatten wir das Dorf verlassen, wurde die Landschaft schrecklich: Den ganzen Tage fuhren wir an einer Förderanlage nach der anderen vorbei. Wir konnten das Gas riechen, alles fühlte sich hier sehr ungesund an und wir dachten schon, unser Albtraum sei in Erfüllung gegangen. Später erfuhren wir, dass die Gasförderanlagen eine der Größten der Welt sind. Wir hatten noch die Ali Baba-Warnungen im Hinterkopf und so buchten wir uns in Assalouyeh in einem viel zu teuren Hotel ein. Jetzt waren wir noch mehr gespannt auf die kommenden 400km, da wir befürchteten, es würde genau so weitergehen.

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Ambush interview with an Iranian radio station
Überfall-Interview mit einem iranischen Radiosender

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Right around the corner is the first fishermen's village
Gleich um die Ecke ist das erste Fischerdorf
The sea, the sea!
Das Meer, das Meer – ENDLICH!

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The world seen from an Iranian perspective
Die Welt aus iranischer Perspektive
Still pretty...
Noch sehr hübsch…
...becoming more industrial...
…dann wird es zunehmend industrieller…
...not so pretty anymore.
…und dann ganz gruselig.

Aber so ging es nicht weiter. Tatsächlich fanden wir, dass dies landschaftlich der schönste Streckenabschnitt für uns im Iran war. Irgendwie sah alles wie im Grand Canyon in den USA aus mit roten Felsen und Schluchten, nur ein bisschen kleiner und als Zusatzbonus das Meer. Entlang des Meeres fuhren wir von einem Fischerdorf ins andere und kamen aus dem Staunen nicht heraus. Noch immer hatten wir Angst, dass uns nach der nächsten Biegung Ali Baba begegnen würde, aber er wahr wohl mit anderen Dingen beschäftigt und nicht sonderlich an uns Radlern interessiert.

A beautiful and protected nature park right after Assalouyeh
Ein geschützter Nationalpark mit Assalouyeh im Hintergrund…
...and sadly the beach is still full with garbage
…und leider sehr viel Abfall am Strand.
Is he Ali Baba?
Ist das Ali Baba?
The pyramid next to the road is a water reservoir, which are abundant in this part of Iran
Die Pyramide neben der Straße ist ein Wasserreservoir, in dieser Gegend überall zu finden
Which was first? The road or the power pole?
Was war zuerst da? Die Straße oder der Strommast?

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Zwei Tage verbrachten wir in einem kleinen Dorf, da wir zufällig entdeckten, dass es dort einen Warmshowers Host gibt. Warmshowers ist eine Organisation, die Radfahrern Übernachtungsmöglichkeiten und oft auch Essen bietet, und das umsonst. Da wir Mehran erst am Vortag angeschrieben hatten, konnte er nicht vor 20 Uhr von der Arbeit zurück sein und so wurden wir von den Dorfbewohnern begrüßt, setzten uns neben die Straße, tranken gemeinsam Tee und aßen Obst. Mehran schrieb uns, dass uns entweder sein Vater oder sein Onkel, ein Lehrer, abholen würde. Als dann ein Englischlehrer ankam und uns drängte, schnell mitzukommen, dachten wir natürlich, dass das Merans Onkel sei. Allerdings war dem nicht so, der Lehrer hatte nur gerne ausländischen Besuch! Dies erfuhren wir, als Mehran später vorbeikam und fragte: “Wer hat meine Gäste gestohlen?” Es zeigte sich, dass Hassan, der Englischlehrer, ein wenig paranoid war. Er hatte eine harte Vergangenheit, wurde zu Studentenzeiten wegen seiner Anti-Regierungseinstellung gefoltert. Ständig betonte er, dass er seit zehn Jahren Tabletten gegen seine Depression nimmt. Als er uns dann irgendwann fragte, ob wir eigentlich wüssten, dass Merkel früher als Spion für den KGB tätig war – er begründete dies mit ihren hervorragenden Russischkenntnissen – zweifelten wir doch an den manchmal fragwürdigen Aussagen zum Iran. Trotzdem war Hassan ein sehr lieber und hervorragender Gastgeber und wir hatten eine sehr schöne Zeit mit ihm und seiner Frau, die uns fürstlich bekochte.

The welcome committee at the village
Empfangskommittee im Dorf
Suddenly the women wouldn't wear merely black and I looked much less like a bird of paradise
Auf einmal trugen Frauen nicht mehr den schwarzen Chador und ich kam mir nicht mehr wie ein Paradiesvogel vor
If this isn't delicious...
Wenn das nicht lecker ist…
Sightseeing with Hassan
Hassan fährt mit uns durch die Berge

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Mit Hassan, links von Johan, seinem Sohn und einem Freund

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Family photo with Hassan's family
Familienfoto mit Hassan Familie

Den zweiten Abend verbrachten wir dann schließlich mit unserem eigentlichen Gastgeber, Mehran, der für den Nachmittag noch eine kleine Radtour mit den Dorfkindern organisiert hatte. Wir hatten einen sehr schönen Abend mit Mehrans Eltern, da sein Vater, ein Schriftsteller, sehr gebildet ist und sich hervorragend mit Literatur und vielen anderen Dingen auskennt. Er stellte uns viele Fragen über unsere Kultur, Politik, westliche Ansichten zu Weltereignissen und wir hatten den ganzen Abend lange Diskussionen. Herzlichen Dank an Mehran und Maria für die schöne Zeit bei euch!

Just some of the kids joining our little bike tour
Nur ein Teil der Kinder, die an der Radtour teilgenommen haben
We've had sooooo much fun!
Das war sooooooo schön!
Mehran's family. Mehran is the second from the lefthand his father is carrying his baby with me standing between Maria and Mehran's mother
Mehrans Familie. Mehran ist der Zweite von links und sein Vater trägt sein Baby. Ich stehe zwischen Maria, seiner Frau und seiner Mutter.

Hier haben wir dann auch erfahren, dass der Küstenabschnitt sehr sicher zum Reisen ist, und dass das, was wir vorher hörten, nur Blödsinn war. Und wieder einmal ist alles nur auf die Religion zurückzuführen: Der Großteil der Iraner sind Schiiten und die Sunniten leben fast alle am Persischen Golf. Sunniten werden im Land oft diskriminiert und haben nicht denselben Zugang zur Infrastruktur. Die Straßen sind hier beispielsweise in einem viel schlechteren Zustand und es gibt auch nicht überall wie selbstverständliche Elektrizität oder fließendes Wasser. Die Sunniten hier sprechen in der Regel Arabisch und werden oft abfällig als Araber bezeichnet. Daher also diese Animositäten.

An einem Abend, als wir wieder einmal auf der Suche nach einem Schlafplatz waren, führte uns ein älterer Mann zu einer Moschee. Nachdem er mich zweimal ‘aus Versehen’ berührt hatte – ein Unding für Moslems – bot er Johan Geld für mich an. Johan gefiel das natürlich überhaupt nicht und war besorgt, dass der Mann irgendwann plötzlich in der Nacht auftauchen würde und so akzeptierten wir dankbar das Angebot eines (echten) Arabers, der hier im Dorf lebt und arbeitet, bei ihm zu übernachten.

On the road again
Unterwegs

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Tailwind!
Rückenwind!

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At the Arabian's house
Beim Haus des Arabers

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Coffee break behind an abandoned building
Kaffeepause hinter einem verlassenen Gebäude

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It's very hot
Es ist sehr heiß
Dinner with fish at a family's house
Abendessen mit Fisch bei einer Familie
Our hosts - the woman with the facial mask was clearly the boss of a huge family
Unsere Gastgeber – die Frau mit der Gesichtsmaske war definitiv der Chef der riesigen Familie

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A nice fishermen's village
Ein hübsches Fischerdorf

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A typical beach in Iran: small platforms - with or without roof - and a barbecue in front. At the back toilets and showers, perfect for camping as long as you don't mind people's chatters until the wee hours
Ein typischer Strand im Iran: kleine betonierte Plattformen – mit oder ohne Dach – und ein Grill davor. Im Hintergrund gibt es Toiletten und Duschen, perfekt für uns zum Zelten, solange es einem nichts ausmacht, dass hier das Strandleben bis weit nach Mitternacht stattfindet.
Beautiful sunset
Wunderschöner Sonnenuntergang
Beach cleaning at sunrise
Bei Sonnenaufgang wird der Strand gesäubert
Johan and his least favorite friend
Johan und sein unbeliebter Freund

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Great load factor
Hervorragender Ladefaktor
A typical roundabout usually featuring something typical from the region - the Quran can be found most often, no surprise
Ein typischer Kreisverkehr, auf dem immer irgendetwas Typisches aus der Region steht – den Koran gibt es natürlich am häufigsten zu sehen…
...and here some prawns for a change.
…und hier dann zur Abwechslung ein Paar Garnelen.
Even the youngest ride a motorbike
Sogar die Jüngsten fahren schon Motorrad

Nach mehr als einer Woche in dieser abgelegenen und umwerfenden Gegend fuhren wir mit der Fähre auf die Insel Queshm, wo wir wieder ein Paar Tage in einem Gasthaus verbrachten. Dort haben wir zwei weitere Reiseradler getroffen, radelten und liefen durch einen Unesco Geopark bevor wir uns wieder auf die Rückreise nach Bandar Lengeh machten, um mit der Fähre nach Dubai zu fahren.

Squeezed in between the cars on the ferry
Auf der Fähre zwischen Autos eingequetscht
Cycling through an old fishermen's village famous for its many wind towers
Fischerdorf, das für seine vielen alten Windtürme bekannt ist
The same village seen from the Portuguese castle or what's left from it
Dasselbe Dorf von der portugiesischen Burg aus gesehen

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The old harbor
Am alten Hafen
A lot of camels
Viele Kamele
Shipyard where wooden ships are still built like 100 years ago
Eine Werft, wo die Holzschiffe noch wie vor 100 Jahren gebaut werden
Ali Baba?
Ali Baba?

Im Unesco Geopark:

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At our guesthouse with the owner and the two other cyclists Heiner and Patrick
Im Gasthaus mit dem Besitzer und den beiden Radlern Heiner und Patrick
Last day on the island
Letzter Tag auf der Insel
A refugee camp outside a small town back on the mainland
Ein Flüchtlingscamp am Rand einer kleinen Stadt auf dem Festland
Enjoying one more Iranian hospitality
Noch einmal genießen wir die Gastfreundschaft im Iran mit den Kindern unseres Gastgebers
Fresh crabs as a starter...
Frische Krabben als Vorspeise…
...and shark as a main.
…und Haifisch als Hauptgericht.
Our room for the night
Unser Zimmer für die Nacht

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Last full day cycling in Iran
Letzter Radeltag im Iran
Last time camping in Iran at the beach
Ein letztes Mal zelten am Strand im Iran
Last night spent with an Iranian host
Und die letzte Nacht bei Iranern verbracht
At the harbor - and no, this is not our ferry
Am Hafen, und nein, das ist nicht unsere Fähre
Our luxury speed boat to Dubai
Unsere luxuriöses Schnellboot nach Dubai
Bye bye Iran
Auf Wiedersehen Iran

Unsere zwei Monate im Iran waren mit vielen schönen Begegnungen mit den gastfreundlichsten Menschen, die wir je getroffen haben, gefüllt. Trotzdem sind die Menschen hier sehr unsicher. Noch nie wurden wir so oft gefragt, der Welt doch mitzuteilen, dass Iraner gute Menschen sind. Die Menschen hier sind sehr stolz auf ihre Herkunft, aber nicht auf ihre Regierung. Über Politik wird nicht gerne geredet, sei es, weil sie Konsequenzen befürchten oder weil sie Angst vor unserer Meinung haben. Noch müssen im Iran viele humanitäre Probleme gelöst werden, Meinungsfreiheit gibt es hier nicht, die Medien werden von den Mullahs kontrolliert und das Internet ist in einem Ausmaß zensiert, dass es wirklich selbst uns sehr genervt hat. Der Iran wird von konservativen Geistlichen regiert, der Präsident ist deren Marionette.

Aufgrund des sehr starken Verkehrs und der Tatsache, dass es nicht so viele ruhigere Straßen gibt, ist das Land nicht unbedingt ein Traum für Radler, trotzdem fühlten wir uns fast immer sicher auf den Straßen. Wir waren dann doch traurig, dieses gastfreundliche Land verlassen zu müssen, aber auch sehr gespannt darauf, was uns nun in den Vereinten Arabischen Emiraten erwarten würde.

From Shiraz to the Persian Gulf

309km, 1,636 m altitude gain (4,578km and 33,988m altitude gain in total)
309km, 1,636 m altitude gain (4,578km and 33,988m altitude gain in total)

12 – 24 November, 2015 – In Shiraz we chose once more for a more costly accommodation to be sure we would be able to relax and get ready for the final stretch. As we reached our chosen hotel – an old heritage site with rooms built around a courtyard – Johan negotiated hard to get a five-US-Dollar discount. Not bad but also not much, especially for what we got. Tired as we were we moved into our room by first cycling through a few winding alleys to get as close as possible. We then carried our numerous panniers through the courtyard which also serves as a restaurant and lounge area and then a few narrow steps up to our tiny room. While everything was very atmospheric with tiles on the walls and colored windows, we were still a bit disappointed about our small room without bathroom for 30 US-Dollars. The next morning we decided to move on to another hotel and once more moved all our panniers down the stairs, through the courtyard, loaded our bikes and cycled back through the alleys to the hotel reception. That day’s receptionist immediately offered us another 10-US-Dollar discount and so we cycled back the alley, walked our panniers through the courtyard and up the stairs again.

View from our room
View from our room

That afternoon we learned that ‘our boys’ would continue cycling the next day as they didn’t get a visa extension in Shiraz and we invited them for a farewell dinner at our hotel. We exchanged contact details, made a few more farewell videos and wished each other well before they finally left. We had a great time together and we’ve become very used to their company and their massive appetite – it’s hardly imaginable that there are people eating more than us – and we were sad to see them leave. But that’s the fate of travellers: we meet people, we get to know each other better and then we have to leave again. It is sometimes heartbreaking but always an enrichment and the idea to see each other once again somewhere on the planet makes it more bearable. Take care, Samuel and Jakob!

Shiraz didn’t impress us as much as Esfahan, but was still worth a visit. The city is known for poets, literature, wine and flowers. While wine is no longer produced and consumed in Shiraz, like everywhere else in Iran as alcohol is banned, there are a lot of citrus trees lining the streets and gardens. We visited the mausoleum and shrine of the King of the Light and for that we got a personal guide wearing a sash with “International Affairs” written on it. We werent allowed to enter it on our own. At the entrance I got a chador and we were told not to take any photos. At the speed of light – I thought the guide would soon suffocate – we got explanations about the King of the Light and his brother, but forgot everything immediately, too much information at so little time. We had to enter the mosque separately and I entered a glittering hall to see women touching the silver bars of the shrine followed by touching their own faces. They continued moving along the shrine and touching everything. The hall was beautifully decorated with small-cut mirrors to intensify the light from the chandelier but also to make sure, people are concentrating on god and not on their faces. It’s an impressive site with a beautifully restored old part as well as a new part that only opened eight months ago.

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The only way for me to enter the mosque
The only way for me to enter the mosque

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We also visited the mausoleum of Hafez, one of the most famous Iranian poets. It is said that every Iranian household owns at least three books: the Quran and the poems of Hafez and Saadi. We were also told that people sit around the tomb and in the gardens reciting Hafez poems. To our biggest disappointment we only saw overly made-up Iranian women and men with their selfie sticks taking selfies.

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Another beautiful and very peaceful site is the small but fine Pink Mosque known best for its huge and beautiful colored windows. It’s called the Pink Mosque for it’s extensive use of pink tiles for its interior design.

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Some random Shiraz shots: 

The Shiraz fort
The Shiraz fort

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And then it was time to move on again. This time we chose a more remote route through the mountains to avoid heavy traffic. At the end of the first day we stopped in a village to find a place to sleep. We were quickly helped and showed to a mosque where we could sleep in the huge hall, only separated in the middle by a curtain. We made ourselves at home, chose one corner of the huge room for our mattresses and the middle – with the only light above – as our dining area. We soon started cooking outside when suddenly two men arrived, looking puzzled at us only to disappear in the mosque, switching on a tape with the call for prayer and coming out again. Now we at least got the confirmation, that not every call for prayer is live! However, we had to remove all our stuff again, as we had decided to camp in the women’s prayer hall. Fantastic! As quickly as we could Johan put everything in one corner while I continued cooking. Soon five women arrived to pray for about ten minutes in our bedroom and then left again. There were a handful more men joining the prayer in the other chamber of the hall while we were eating. Once praying was finished, we got about ten invitations to sleep at people’s houses. We declined as we didn’t want to pack everything once more. Instead, two boys would now sleep in the men’s prayer hall to make sure we were safe. The following morning Johan had a very weird political discussion with one of the boys, aged around 20. It was around the topic that the Iranian government is banning Western media channels such as BBC and CNN. The boy was convinced that it was the right thing to do, as the US government is very bad and supporting the IS. Thankfully we met more people who weren’t as brainwashed as these two guys.

At 'our' mosque
At ‘our’ mosque in the early morning
Ready to leave
Ready to leave

The route we chose was more remote than we had expected and much more beautiful. For two days there was no mobile phone reception and traffic was very low as well. We cycled through a rocky and very hilly desert with an ever changing scenery from tree-lined roads to barren mountains where it seemed that no life would be possible. At times it resembled a huge construction site with a myriad of sand piles. In the last larger town before the Persian gulf we could camp at a hotel after a lengthy and unfriendly discussion with the hotel managers. The following nights we stayed with Iranian families for the first time, as we couldn’t find a good spot to camp. At the second homestay we got warned about the coastal stretch we wanted to cycle: there would be a lot of Ali Babas and two cyclists had been robbed there some time ago. We left the next day with mixed feelings and very unsure about how to overcome the last part of our cycling through Iran.

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We're not really fond of tunnels
Another way to block a road you’re not supposed to ride on
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Johan’s new mode of transportation
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Beehives in the mountains

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Against the wind – what else?

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We're not so fond of tunnels
We’re not so fond of tunnels

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Our campsite at the hotel garden
Our campsite at the hotel garden

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Local nomads

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Local nomads

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The first family we stayed with
The first family we stayed with…
...and whith who we had a wonderful evening.
…and with who we had a wonderful evening.

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A road just for the two of us - unfortunately only for about 10km
A road just for the two of us – unfortunately only for about 10km
Super yummy food: Rice, chicken with French fries, raw vegetable salad and prawns
Super yummy food: Rice, chicken with French fries, raw vegetable salad and prawns
With our hosts - the men from the gas station
With our hosts – the men from the gas station
And the second family - the ones who were worried about Ali Baba at the coast
And the second family – the ones who were worried about Ali Baba at the coast

We are Family

515km, 2.480 m altitude gain (4,268km and 32,352m altitude gain in total)
515km, 2,480 m altitude gain (4,268km and 32,352m altitude gain in total)

6 – 16 November, 2015 – Esfahan is the number-one tourist destination in Iran for good reason. We were blown away by its historic bazaars, tree-lined boulevards, the magnificent Imam Square, the second-largest square on earth, the Armenian quarter, its beautiful historic bridges and the Jameh Mosque, a veritable museum of Islamic architecture. We spent five full days relaxing, sightseeing, buying ourselves some nice souvenirs, extending our Iran visas and re-filling our batteries with good and often not so very healthy food – actually we had a burger or similar fast food almost every day. Fast food places are booming everywhere in Iran and hamburgers, hot dogs – often misspelled as hat dogs – or falafel sandwiches have become staple snacks besides kebab.

The great Imam Square: 

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At a mosque
In front of a mosque at the square

Imam square

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School kids
School kids

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Curry!
Curry!

At our hostel we met the first touring cyclist, Jakob from Stuttgart, and we exchanged roadside stories. There we also met an Iranian who was looking for French-speaking tourists. As I was the only one around he started chatting with me to practice his French. After all the usual questions such as “Where are you from?, What is your name?, Do you like Iran?” he invited us for lunch to his home. We were a little bit surprised by this spontaneous invitation and decided to decline it as we weren’t really sure about the man’s real intention. Was he a tour guide and expecting money from us? Was he trying to get anything else from us? Or was he just another friendly Iranian keen on demonstrating Iranian hospitality? We would never find out.

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In Esfahan we also noticed the exaggerated beauty-mania Iran is famous for. Never had we seen so many women – and men by the way – with plasters on their noses or face masks given their recent plastic surgery. Women are wearing an awful lot of make-up, shave off their eyebrows to repaint them in for us bizarre and unnatural shapes. Not only look all noses the same in a very unnatural way but also their lips and cheeks have been injected. We were easily able to distinguish a natural from an artificial Iranian face within seconds. For us a very disturbing and sad trend, as Iranian women and men are very handsome, even more so without plastic surgery.

The men’s mosque at the Imam Square:

DSCF2824DSCF2872DSCF2881DSCF2928At the river: 

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With a Polish guy we met at our guesthouse
With a Polish guy we met at our guesthouse
The dam had been opened just the day of our arrival - before there was no water in the river
The dam had been opened just the day of our arrival – before there was no water in the river

In the meantime we also noticed that it was getting winter. At an altitude of around 1500 meters day temperatures were still around 20 degrees but declined heavily at night. Night frost became more common day by day but we were grateful for the still low precipitation.

Some random Esfahan shots: 

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At a fancy restaurant - a former hamam, food was just average though!
At a fancy restaurant – a former hammam, food was just average though!

We couldn’t leave Esfahan without going once more back to the Imam Square, this time with our bikes. Again, we got several invitations to come with people to their homes and again we declined. As soon as we are sitting on our fully loaded bikes, we are no longer the ‘normal’ tourists and attract a lot of attention, even in tourist-spoilt cities like Esfahan.

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Best friends? Not really, we just met and got invited for tea.
Best friends? Not really, we just met and got invited for tea.

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On our way out of Esfahan we met another touring cyclist on his way to Shiraz – Samuel (19) from Germany. Samuel has been cycling from Germany to Iran and is writing about his adventures on samuelontour.com. Together we cycled to Shiraz. We finally were a family! In Iran it is forbidden to share a hotel room, if a couple is not married. Hence, we kept telling people, that we are married, which always triggered the question of children we declined and which usually resulted in an awkward silence. But now we had another problem – just one son wasn’t enough either!

Leaving Esfahan
Leaving Esfahan
With Samuel
With Samuel
Always trying to find a good road to cycle - this time a gravel road next to the busy highway without shoulder
Always trying to find a good road to cycle – this time a gravel road next to the busy highway without shoulder

On our first evening together we slept at a mosque. While Johan, the organizer, checked the room I waited together with Samuel when a man approached us and started the usual talking. As soon as he found out that Samuel was neither my husband (!!!) nor my son he turned to Samuel whispering in his ears. Samuel’s reaction told me clearly that he got an immoral offer from a gay Iranian. And this, while the government declares proudly, that there are no gay people in the country ;-). It took a few minutes to make the guy understood that Samuel seriously doesn’t want to have sex with him before he drove off in his car. Samuel told us, that this has happened quite often to him and all the times in Iran. We spent the night in a warm and spacious room with two huge beds, a bathroom and even our own kitchen. In the morning we got breakfast served and our 10 Dollars for the room returned – again, people were treating us very well!

The mosque we stayed at
The mosque we stayed at

DSCF3349The longer we cycled the more interesting became the landscape. We were moving at an altitude of around 2000 meters. The barren desert-like landscape was lined by rugged mountains in the far distance, some of them snow-capped by now. Traffic lessened the further away we got from Esfahan and we could either cycle on good dirt roads right next to the main highway or on a wide shoulder. We crossed a few passes, often struggled with headwinds but sometimes also flew with the wind.

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Fixing a problem with Samuel's chain
Fixing a problem with Samuel’s chain

The second night with Samuel we spent at the Red Crescent. This time, they were housed in a real building, not just containers and we got our own room, could use their showers and kitchen and once more enjoyed the warmth inside. This journey along the edge of the desert was becoming a very comfortable one as we had anticipated another 5-day-journey without showers or any other luxuries.

We are family!
We are family!
Second breakfast only shortly after our first, our porridge wasn't filling enough
Second breakfast only shortly after our first, our porridge wasn’t filling enough
Johan having fun on the road
Johan having fun on the road

Our third day after leaving Esfahan was our longest in terms of kilometers and time in the saddle. Almost all day we had to climb and the headwind didn’t make it any easier. I spent most of the day in Johan’s or Samuel’s slipstream to reduce waiting time for them and to make it easier for me. It’s not my preferred way of cycling, as I don’t like looking at the back of somebody all day long, even if it is Johan’s back. By 4pm we reached the top of a pass at around 2,500m and still had around 25km to cycle into town, which we reached within an hour as we now cycled mostly downhill. Shattered and cold we asked a few people for a place to stay and they drove us to a house, where we could stay in a filthy room for a bit more than 10 EUR. Despite Samuel being unhappy about our decision, as paying for accommodation wasn’t neither adventurous nor interesting, we took the room. In the end we all were glad to be able to stay at a warm place instead of pitching the tent in a dark park at freezing temperatures.

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P1230557After a slow start the following morning and with only Samuel being showered we continued our journey with today’s planned destination of Pasergardae, the place of Cyrus the Great’s tomb. At the beginning of another pass we met Jakob (19), another German touring cyclist, who joined our little family. Finally we were a ‘real’ family according to Iranian standards. Pasargadae is lesser known and besides Cyrus’ tomb not a really exciting site. The four of us still spent a few hours there and convinced Jakob to camp with us at the nearby restaurant. The following morning we woke to a completely frozen tent – very mystique, but very cold. Thankfully we could dry our tents and sleeping bags in the once again overheated restaurant. Something we noticed everywhere: now that it was getting colder, people started using their gas heating to an extent that was becoming extremely uncomfortable for us with inside temperatures of 25 degrees and above.

Samuel and Jakob
Samuel and Jakob
Lunch with Samuel and Jakob at Pasergardae
Lunch with Samuel and Jakob at Pasergardae
Cyrus' tomb
Cyrus’ tomb

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Our little campsite behind the restaurant
Our little campsite behind the restaurant
Freezing cold!
Freezing cold!

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After half a day’s downhill cycling on a road meandering through a huge canyon we reached Persepolis, a Unesco World Heritage Site and one of the cultural highlights of our Iran trip. Persepolis was the capital of the Achaemenid Empire founded by Darius I in 518 B.C.. He created an impressive palace complex with monumental staircases, exquisite reliefs, striking gateways and massive columns that left us in no doubt how great this empire must have been. The whole complex had been covered in dust and sand and was only rediscovered in 1931.

Second breakfast for our hungry boys, coffee for the older ones
Second breakfast for our hungry boys, coffee for the older ones

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Onion harvest
Onion harvest

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Persepolis: 

For the family album :-)
For the family album 🙂

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Trying to take a picture without disturbing glass in front
Trying to take a picture without disturbing glass in front

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We once more camped all together at an official campsite under pine-trees close to the Persepolis ruins and did not leave the following morning before having a final look from the outside at the palaces. Shortly after our departure we lost our ‘kids’, who obviously were keen to reach Shiraz as quickly as possible. So we continued once more alone, crossing two more small passes before rolling down into Shiraz. Traffic was massif and cycling no fun and we were glad when we finally reached our hotel.

Watch Samuel’s videos of our time together here: video 1 and video 2.

Coffee break as there was no more need to hurry having lost the boys anyway

Getting closer to Shiraz
Getting closer to Shiraz

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