Flying to Tehran

We woke at 0500 and walked downstairs to the bus station and caught the 0550 bus to Dubai International Airport. With our luggage already with the airline, we got to the airport about 1h30 prior to departure. We had a light breakfast at McDonald’s before heading to our gate for our 0745 departure to Tehran, capital of one of the Axis of Evil countries, supposedly.

We had the same seats 8AB as yesterday on the Airbus A330-200. Once airborne Emirates impressed us with their food, this time them breakfast.  Sadly, the some of the British crew weren’t very pleasant to passengers. This seems to have been a established trend from several flights. Perhaps they’re not happy in their jobs because it doesn’t pay well for someone from the UK, but it is good money for someone from Eastern Europe or Asia. We were told they get paid the same money regardless of their origin. Perhaps the Brits that fly for Emirates are the ones that couldn’t get into British Airways or Virgin Atlantic?

The crew gave out toy packs to children on board. It included a dalmation dog, perhaps inspired by the 101 Dalmatian sequel. I was rather surprised the airline of a Muslim country would be giving out toy stuffed dogs! They’re obviously more liberal than Malaysia where it would be seen as very politically incorrect or even offensive.

Inflight, while flipping through my passport, I noticed that my US visa had been issued with a typo for my passport number. [Edit: Weeks later, back in Auckland, I visited the embassy to have this fixed. They told me not to worry because the typo didn’t matter but the person in front of me in the queue had been locked up for an admin error which saw him accused of overstaying. I chose to have the visa corrected and replaced. They asked me to go downstairs to the post office and buy a courier bag and courier the passport upstairs to them!]

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Arriving in Tehran

After two hours, we arrived in Tehran. Women passengers covered their hair and some who were in skirts had changed into long pants or long skirts. Crew remained in their normal uniform as they weren’t disembarking.

My visa-free entry and Kim’s visa-entry were both fine. Customs was a breeze and our luggage didn’t need to be opened for any checks. Rudi, a Swissair pilot we had met in Bario a few years ago, told us that magazines are confiscated upon arrival. Obviously, it’s not always the case.

Once we had exited the secure area, we were met by a nice young man to collect USD40 for Kim’s visa support. Iran requires New Zealanders to be on a tour rather than be on independent travel. So we had organised a travel agent to provide a visa support letter, which more or less says that Kim’s travel arrangements have been done through them but in fact, we’re doing our own thing.

That agent Amoot Tours didn’t have any online payment mechanism (perhaps due to trade embargoes) and they were trusting enough for us to pay them upon arrival.

The Khayyam Hotel had given us free pick-up from the airport. We were met by Mohammad and two friends, all body builders. They dropped us off at the hotel, located in strange part of town amongst car repair and auto accessory shops.

Out exploring

Once at the hotel, we didn’t unpack. We wanted to make the most of our limited time in Tehran. We put some of our valuables into our daypack and made our way out. The hotel receptionist quizzed us about how to migrate to New Zealand as we were trying to get him to organise a taxi to take us to the Carpet Museum.

Before entering the Carpet Museum we had some delicious hot dogs and then ice-cream across the road from the museum. I was a little puzzled at the ice-cream shop as they showed me the freezer and gestured at scraping ice-cream off the walls of the freezer. I kinda shrugged and we got whatever I was given.

In the museum, an old man showed us around. The pieces on display were just exquisite. At the end, we weren’t sure whether to tip him. We didn’t in case it causes offence, as it does in some countries that are unspoilt by western tourists.

Next, we took a taxi to Sa’dabad Musuem or Historical Complex. The driver didn’t know the place or we didn’t explain it clearly enough, so it was a bit difficult. Traffic was horrendous at the Exhibition Centre, so that didn’t help. We got there eventually 1h15 later at 1545 for a very modest fare. This just illustrates that in Iran it is cheap and easy to get yourself out of trouble and inconveniences simply by paying for a solution (unless we’re talking about legal hassles).

Sa’dabad Musuem is a complex of palaces (some of which are now galleries and museums) set amongst a 300 hectare site of forest, gardens, streams and canals. These were built during Qajar and Pahlavi dynasties.

Once inside, we hopped on the free (included in ticket price) minibus which took us to the Green Palace. The palace had a number of ornate rooms but the Mirror Hall which had an intricate mosaic of mirrors was the most memorable, together with the red dining room.

Back near the entrance where I had bought the ticket was the White Palace. It was larger than the Green Palace but it was more of the same. Kim wanted to visit the Military Museum which we did next.

While visiting the palaces, a Saudi man kept saying that the palaces here are nothing compared to King Fahd’s palaces. He kept saying that I need to visit. I said that I’d love to but I don’t qualify for business, haj or umrah visas. He said that he would happily sponsor me for a business visa! Here’s hoping, one day!

It was lovely walking around the grounds, sitting and sipping tea on carpeted platforms amongst the trees, green grass and snow-fed streams.

There were many women with half-covered heads, sunglasses, smoking and relaxing. We were surprised by how “risqué” their dress-sense were. Many were in jeans covered with a thigh-length figure-hugging trench-coat. Some had only small piece of thin fabric thrown over their hair, showing a pony tail and lots of fringe. Obviously, women here are pushing the boundaries whereas in modern Dubai, they are conforming to family and cultural norms despite less legal requirements to cover up.

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Leaving Sa’dabad, I asked the guard about finding a taxi. A mature local woman offered to help us and invited us into her Kia Pride (booted Mazda 121). We squeezed in with a young woman and an older one. They drove us around looking for a taxi stand but it was in vain, possibly due to the nearby exhibition. In the end, she found the house of a transport guy who could take us back. It was the perfect example of Persian hospitality in action.

The women had taken some risks. They talked worriedly amongst themselves when a Mercedes full of green-uniformed men overtook us. I heard the much feared word “Komiteh” (law enforcement force for social and moral behaviour). She said, a year ago, they would have been in trouble.

At the transport operator’s house I noticed that he had chained whips for Ashura, a day to mourn Imam Hussein’s martyrdom. The ride back took only about half an hour. Going down from the foothills, heading south, we could appreciate the urban sprawl of Tehran. And looking back, we could see how the posher areas of the north, with the fancy apartments and restaurants, approach the snowy peaks.

We had a dinner of samosa, pizza and a filled roll before bed around 2100. I was impressed with how much ground we had covered in half a day, especially in a brand new country that has a “reputation”. The cool dry air certainly helps in terms of not wearing us out. In fact, the air is so dry that we see static jump between the room lock and the key, and in bedsheets.

By the way, we became millionaires today. Changing USD200 we become instant millionaires with two stacks of notes totalling about IRR1.6 million.

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