40 degrees are hard to bear (for guys who used to go to the Baltic Sea for summer vacations). They’re even harder to bear when you’re wearing full motorcycle armour. Not that we’re complaining. The desert has been beautiful. But to be honest we were not too unhappy to go north again.
Leaving Yazd, we managed to trade in the highway for small gravel roads at a few occasions. Much to the travellers' delight.
We came through deserted villages and empty landscapes, but there were still signs of life here and there.
To gain some altitude and lean angle we decided to go to Abyaneh, an old mountain village.
The road leading to the village was fantastic. Winding up the mountains we arrived at an altitude of about 2.400 meters. The temperatures had cooled down and we went looking for a place to sleep. We found – a whole valley.
Someone had to climb a mountain. And when someone climbs a mountain, you know what time it is. Selfie time. There you go.
Of course no valley is really empty. There’s always someone around. This valley was no exception.
A distant phenomenon at first, the herd quickly became interested in the new arrivals.
But stopped right before examining our tent, thanks to the shepherd’s intervention.
The next morning, the valley looked even prettier.
They say "there is no such thing as a free lunch". In this case the bill was presented right after we left. Maybe the concentration was not yet fully up yet, maybe it was one rolling stone too many. At slow speed, Momme dropped his bike. No big deal though. Man and material survived without a scratch.
Without further complications we reached Teheran. Less heat, but more traffic.
The reason why we returned to Teheran was to change our tires for the first time of the trip.
After about 11.000 kilometers our Continental Trail Attack were slightly run down, so we headed to Kavir Motor, the company importing KTMs to Iran.
The whole crew did a great job and after few hours we left with our new Pirelli Scorpion Trail II tires. But not without the obligatory memorial shots.
The next day we started to head for the border to Turkmenistan.
But there were still about 900 kilometers to go, packed with everything that Iran is about: beautiful scenery and friendly, helpful people.
In Golestan National Park, the police stopped us much to our surprise. We were sure we had not violated the speed limit, since we were looking for a place to camp. And indeed, all they wanted was a photo and the answers to some questions on the bike. Like “How much ccm?”
We ended up camping at an official camping ground since wild camping is not allowed in the national park. Some boars were also living there, strolling through the rows and picking up the leftovers of campers.
The way towards the border presented a sublte warning to us not to go too fast.
And we were happy to get back into the mountains. The roads are more fun than in the lowlands.
The last town before the border was Bajgiran. There is no hotel. So with permission of the local gardener we camped in the city park.
Our three weeks in Iran have been incredible. The landscapes were beautiful. The cities were astonishing. And the food was delicious. But it’s people that make a good country great. So thank you, Iranians! You’ve been good to us. We’ll be back someday.