I wanted to write something more about my experience in Iran. At the time I didn't write much on the blog. But I did write a lot in my diary which will appear in a book in the future.
Some experiences stay in my mind in particular. They started at Agarak, the Armenian-Iranian border. I remember arriving, riding next to the border fence, feeling scared cycling over the bridge of the river signifying the border, the border guards poised with guns on tall turrets. After tentatively pedaling across the 'No man's land', and going through the administrative process, I felt relieved, I had managed to get across the border even though the border officers tried their best to nullify my visa. Perhaps my passport was fake because it said 'Great Britain' instead of 'England' and it also said 'Ireland' which wasn't England either. Anyway, I got through and I had a pant-tearing ride down a wind-tunnel of a valley. Steep pointy mountains. A scary, exotic but exciting place on first impressions.
