Friday October 21, 2011
Despite an exhausting nineteen hour journey from Sydney via Dubai I once again felt the rush of landing in a completely foreign land at Tehran's Imam Khomeini International Airport. That intoxicating mixture of excitement, isolation and an ever so slight amount of fear is why I travel to the places I do, and I will never tire of it! It's a drug and I'm hooked. Bloody expensive habit though.
In my passport control queue there was a group of four Persian-Australian teenagers apparently visiting relatives. After chatting to each other as any teenagers would do in Sydney or Melbourne, one by one they were summoned to the passport officer whereupon they effortlessly slipped into the Farsi language. The envy was palpable "If only I could do that this trip would be awesome!". Little did I realise at the time in the next fortnight I would encounter many friendly locals willing to meet me halfway, regardless of their grasp of English.
Surprisingly the incoming customs procedure was negligible. There was one x-ray machine, no forms to fill out, and no-one questioning what I had brought into Iran. I was in Tehran proper!
After acquiring Iranian money (rials) at the airport lobby I headed for the taxi (or more accurately, cab - the meters are never running in Iran) rank where I was immediately accosted by a driver. He was driving an official looking cab and was at the head of the queue, so fair enough I thought.
I told the driver I was headed to the Parastoo Hotel. He confidently replied "AH, Hotel Parastoo!". Terrific, he knows where it is - I'll just sit back and relax.
After a few minutes it became apparent from his broken English and gesturing that he had no idea where my hotel was. The driver managed to convey to me that he wanted a telephone number for the place, and once I understood that I was happy to oblige. He spoke to the hotel on his mobile phone. To confirm that all was well I asked "Okay?" and gave the okay gesture - circle with thumb and index finger. CULTURAL FAUX PAS #1 - more on this later. (I'm sure those who have already visited the Middle East are laughing already)
I had previously read about Iranian traffic and driving but no amount of books can prepare you for the terrifying experience in reality. The airport is 35km outside of downtown Tehran but even on the expressway it was quickly clear to me that when you drive in Iran:
1. driving in lanes is optional
2. traffic light compliance is optional
3. giving way is not an option (if you want to arrive at your destination)
4. the faster you drive the closer you should tailgate
5. honking is compulsory (if you want to live)
For my own mental health I tried not to look at the traffic and in a suppressive stupor just enjoyed the romantic Middle Eastern dust storm that Tehran was afflicted with that day.
After an hour I arrived at the hotel. The driver double parked on a very busy road and helpfully told me which alley to walk into to find my lodgings. After paying him and unloading my bags I gave a big thumbs up to signal my gratitude and to send him on his way. CULTURAL FAUX PAS #2! Well I certainly achieved the second objective.
No matter, I'm in Tehran safe and sound.
Despite an exhausting nineteen hour journey from Sydney via Dubai I once again felt the rush of landing in a completely foreign land at Tehran's Imam Khomeini International Airport. That intoxicating mixture of excitement, isolation and an ever so slight amount of fear is why I travel to the places I do, and I will never tire of it! It's a drug and I'm hooked. Bloody expensive habit though.
In my passport control queue there was a group of four Persian-Australian teenagers apparently visiting relatives. After chatting to each other as any teenagers would do in Sydney or Melbourne, one by one they were summoned to the passport officer whereupon they effortlessly slipped into the Farsi language. The envy was palpable "If only I could do that this trip would be awesome!". Little did I realise at the time in the next fortnight I would encounter many friendly locals willing to meet me halfway, regardless of their grasp of English.
Surprisingly the incoming customs procedure was negligible. There was one x-ray machine, no forms to fill out, and no-one questioning what I had brought into Iran. I was in Tehran proper!
After acquiring Iranian money (rials) at the airport lobby I headed for the taxi (or more accurately, cab - the meters are never running in Iran) rank where I was immediately accosted by a driver. He was driving an official looking cab and was at the head of the queue, so fair enough I thought.
I told the driver I was headed to the Parastoo Hotel. He confidently replied "AH, Hotel Parastoo!". Terrific, he knows where it is - I'll just sit back and relax.
After a few minutes it became apparent from his broken English and gesturing that he had no idea where my hotel was. The driver managed to convey to me that he wanted a telephone number for the place, and once I understood that I was happy to oblige. He spoke to the hotel on his mobile phone. To confirm that all was well I asked "Okay?" and gave the okay gesture - circle with thumb and index finger. CULTURAL FAUX PAS #1 - more on this later. (I'm sure those who have already visited the Middle East are laughing already)
I had previously read about Iranian traffic and driving but no amount of books can prepare you for the terrifying experience in reality. The airport is 35km outside of downtown Tehran but even on the expressway it was quickly clear to me that when you drive in Iran:
1. driving in lanes is optional
2. traffic light compliance is optional
3. giving way is not an option (if you want to arrive at your destination)
4. the faster you drive the closer you should tailgate
5. honking is compulsory (if you want to live)
For my own mental health I tried not to look at the traffic and in a suppressive stupor just enjoyed the romantic Middle Eastern dust storm that Tehran was afflicted with that day.
After an hour I arrived at the hotel. The driver double parked on a very busy road and helpfully told me which alley to walk into to find my lodgings. After paying him and unloading my bags I gave a big thumbs up to signal my gratitude and to send him on his way. CULTURAL FAUX PAS #2! Well I certainly achieved the second objective.
No matter, I'm in Tehran safe and sound.
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