Desert Riders

After leaving Esfahan a couple of days ago I went to look at the ruins of the ancient city of Persopolis. It would be a crime to visit Iran and not visit. Although there is not much left apart from a few reliefs and columns, I've found it fascinating to be able to compare the different ancient ruins that we've seen along the route, from Italy, through Greece and Turkey to here. The distances involved are also astounding when you think that armies once would have marched to fight each other through often barren lands from one civilisation to another.

My plan was to camp at Persopolis but due to the amount of people milling around and the desire for some peace and quiet, I decided to push on north to Yazd, a peaceful city again on the edge of the desert. Here I spent 2 nights relaxing and enjoying some of the Iranian confectionary as well as visiting a museum about the underground canals which supply much of Iranian towns with water together with a local gym, where men twirl big wooden blocks around their heads whilst getting hyped up about Allah as comrade bangs a drum to egg them on. Intensive stuff. JJB take note!

The Gym

From Yazd I made my way to Kerman, where I could meet up with George and Morgan again in preparation for the crossing of Balochistan and southern Pakistan. We camped last night in the Kaluts, a barren desert region filled with sand castles. On the way we passed a lorry which had taken a corner too fast and run off the road. The trailer had tipped over bringing the cab to a sudden halt. The driver was also brought to a sudden halt by the windscreen and was hanging limply in a bloodied mess out the front of the perfectly undamaged cab. The stupidy of Iranians is striking. If he had worn a seatbelt he would have lived. Maybe it's a lack of education but there are signs telling drivers to buckle up on every road and knowing how each of them drive they must have something missing. Some of the overtakes I've seen, that would be risky on bikes with superior acceleration, have been performed by slow cars filled with 6 people or more. Still, it always makes me smile to see 3 people wizz past on a motorbike, each on their mobile phone. Idiots.



Even though we arrived at the Kaluts at sunset, the head was still almost unbearable. We rode across some sand drifts until I managed to get into an unrecoverable wobble in some deep ruts and went over the handlebars. The bike did a complete flip and rolled over on top of me. I wasn't going too fast so there was little damage done apart a crack in a mirror, a seperated luggage box and sand in every crevice imaginable. We camped there for the night and were treated with a fantastic view of the heavens. Sleeping was difficult due to the lingering heat and a small sandstorm shortly before dawn.

The crash site.

In the morning we packed and made our way to the top of one of the sand formations to witness the dawn. Before setting off on the bikes Morgan gave me advice to stand up as soon as possible after setting off and lean back to keep the weight off the front wheel and stop it digging in. What a difference it made! Technique is everything!

We rode on to Bam, where we were planning on making a run for the border tomorrow, but have decided to stay for 2 nights to relax and prepare the bikes, mainly because my lights have stopped working for no reason. After consulting the wiring diagram we think it's the white wire.... possibly...

Bam was devastated by an Earthquake in 2006. The once incredible mud citadel was reduced to ruins together with an innumerable loss of life.

The road to Multan in Pakistan is going to be tough. We will have escorts from here onwards for the next 1000km or more. From other overlanders accounts we may have to change escorts every 20km and they may possibly want to ride on the back of our bikes which we flatly refuse. Eitherway, this is probably going to be the toughest section of the trip. Now... where did I put my voltmeter?