So what happened after we split the group? Did things improve right away and was it the right choice, or did we make a mistake? Well right now we are in Tabriz, in Iran. So it wasn't a complete mistake. But things didn't go smoothly after Martijn left.

We needed 2 extra days in Erzurum to get both ourselves and our incomplete gear back together. The morning after Martijn left we had decided to take the early train from Erzurum to Horasan, to catch up a bit again with the schedule we had in mind.

So we finally left the hotel, after confusing the owner every morning by saying: "we go/leave tomorrow". So with 3 fully packed bikes we drove down to the train station, where we bought our ticket to Horasan. We knew on forehand that like everytime, it was a bit of a hassle to get the bikes in the train. Thus we asked one of the TCDD(train) people if we could take our bikes with us. This time, we sadly enough got a negative answer from everyone. We could take our bikes on the train, but that would be the night train. Which we definitely did not want to take. So after waiting till 10:30 when the train should have arrived, we decided to just cycle all the way to Horasan. Going uphill proved once again to be a lot bigger effort then going down hill. The time needed to get to the intersection where we had to turn right for the road to Horasan and Agri, was even increased by 2 encounters. First we saw a couple walking, which where clearly no Turks, but most likely Dutch or Germans. It appeared that they where a French couple backpacking from France to Iran and Georgia. After a short talk they moved on, just like we intended to do. But Aafke suddenly got dizzy and felt bad. Whilst she sat down to recover, I went to get some bread. By the time I got back she had eaten and drank a little bit. Feeling good enough to move on again we once again got on our bikes. Just to be stopped 500 meters further by another pair of backpackers. Funnily enough they appeared to be from France also. One of them actually planned to be in Kyrgyz around the time we would be there as well. After a short talk we really wanted to leave Erzurum and just move on. Finally we got to the intersection where we could turn left and get on the road to Horasan. From there on we had lots of backwind and mainly saw (semi hidden) military bases. With the wind helping us a bit we did a jolly 30km/h which felt really good. Sadly enough Douwe didn't agree with my opinion. Or better said, his stomach didn't. After 30 km or so we took a short break, where we concluded that all of us where still tired from the past days. Taking it a bit slower, we had a lunch break not long after the first break. There it appeared that Douwe really felt ill. Can you imagine, Douwe not eating, he who always eats anything. So after the break we got ourselves together again and did another 20 km or so before we found a decent place to camp.

There the actual fun began, we had a simple dinner and right after that Douwe went to bed. He was suffering from the well known phenomena among travelers called Diarrhea. On top of that, our newly acquired tent appeared to be rather incompetent for the journey we had in mind. I was simply flabbergasted when I saw how dreadful it was. The thing could stand, but with the slightest breeze it would crack. Not to mention sandstorms or anything of such caliber which we might be facing. Also the bottom got punctured at the first pressure on it. Like I said, the actual fun had begun. After some quick dishes it was just a few minutes before we where ready to sleep. Aafke decided to take the risk of wrecking her thermarest. That risk appeared to be worth it. Douwe had to get out of the tent every 30 minutes, just to loose some more body "fluids". After a horrible night, with a complete lack of decent rest we knew we had to move on to Horasan. But there is always a positive side to a story, and this time that was the face of the shepherd who moved his herd past our camp. I still wonder what he thought about the trail of toilet papers (and the cows plunging their nose in those papers). Just 1 stop at a tank station was what we needed before we reached Horasan. There we asked about the busses to Agri, as it was obvious that there would be no decent place to rest in Horasan. After conversing a bit with the people from Horasan we quickly learned that there where plenty of busses to Agri, but that chances where slim of getting a ride with 3 people AND 3 bicycles. With the aid of a German speaking Turk we got ourselves a 75 euro private ride to Agri. During our time in Turkey people always warned us that after Sivas it would get more dangerous. Grateful as we where we took that advice serious, but simply didn't notice much of a change, till now. Agri was a grim and in my opinion almost hostile city. Children either made fun of you or showed you those faces with a dark glare on it. Older people where less negative, but the fun and friendly behavior was often not there anymore. Sadly enough we had to take a rest there so Douwe could recover a little bit before we crossed the borders to Iran. We spent 2 nights in crappy hotels, the second one being just slightly better then the first one. Almost all the time in Agri was spent inside an internet cafe just 30 meters away or buying stuff when we really had to. The last night, I was even so stupid to go out on some terrace at the backside of the hotel. Having the sun in my face I heard some yelling. Taking the few steps forward needed to peek into the alley behind the hotel, I saw 2 kids fighting. One was desperately holding off the knife of the other one! Those kids where just 12 years old or so, maybe even younger. Stupidly enough a third kid saw me. Such things make a person feel really uncomfortable. Simply because you realize everyone can recognize you, but you can't recognize anyone. Gladly we would leave the next day. But I do admit that from that point till we really left Agri I was eyeing every kid, suspicious of knifes or whatsoever. I guess that in the end it was a slight overreaction, and that the kids would want revenge or anything. It does make you feel bad, confused etc though.

The next day we left Agri, none of us felt too great, but good enough to head towards Dogubayazit. The wind wasn't as friendly as when we left Erzurum, but we managed to make some progress with some stops here and there. 30 km further, and already tired from the strong headwind, we decided it was time for a lunch. Making just a light palatable soup, we got a nice greeting from the Turkish army. Via their Speakers they said: Welcome to turkey. At first we where baffled, but then we started to laugh, realizing what they just said. It took just a few seconds to figure out how stupid that well meant greeting was. They couldn't possibly know that we where just a mere few days away from actually leaving turkey. When we had everything packed and where just allowing our stomachs to digest it all a bit, two young people visited us. Sadly enough their English wasn't good enough to have a proper conversation, and we where too tired to make a big effort to converse with hands, dictionaries etc. After a few minutes they moved on, just on foot, probably going to the next village.

Seriously we weren't allowed to get anywhere that day. Just half a mile further we saw the 2 young guys sitting, and waving us for a tea. We just had a short look at each other, and then figured a hot tea couldn't hurt our stomachs. Once again we where subject to the hospitable Turks with their yummy tea! This time we decided to give it a serious go at conversing with them. It was really fun to see what these two managed to talk about with just 2 dictionaries and hand gestures. The conversation went actually for once far beyond the usual: "hello, how are you, where are you from?" questions. Thus we decided it was time to hand out two photos of our families, which we had carried with us all the time. The result was really funny since he insisted on giving us a photo of him. Unfortunately there seemed to be a minor problem, which simply meant that we ended up walking with him to his house in the next town. There we got some more tea and pasta (little cakes etc), followed by a second lunch. He then invited us to stay at that town, and that we could sleep for free at the Teachers house. They have those MEB, as they call them, in every little town. It's simply a hostel for all the teachers who cannot afford or find a house for themselves in that town. Occasionally travelers are hosted there as well. We where told to just go to the police, indicate that we wanted to stay 1 night and everything would be arranged. This proved to be a little bit harder then expected. While Douwe had mostly recovered from his stomach problems, mine had become worse. So there I was sitting in the MEB, smiling and talking. Finally we could speak some normal English again with the English teacher who stayed there. A person can sadly enough not keep on smiling forever when his intestines are having a serious war inside. This is where sadly enough the thing called being impolite kicks in. I explained them what was going on and made clear that I really wanted to lie down. Turkish hosts are great, but sometimes it is nice to just hear: "sorry, but we don't have a room for you right now". Now they told us that around 8 o'clock. The manager seemed to have realized this as well, and until today I am not 100% sure how, but suddenly there was a room free. Of course this simply meant that some teachers had surrendered their bunks to the almighty Dutch (ahum ahum ;-)).

After taking a pill against the Diarrhea I tried to sleep, which turned out not as bad as I expected. The record amount of toilet breaks Douwe had during that night where not mine to shatter. At 8 in the morning we got a short call for breakfast, which Aafke and Douwe gladly accepted. Seeing as how my stomach felt I decided to stick to my diet of salty sticks, simple cookies and water. On this basis we covered the last 60km to Dogubayazit, during which I started to feel a little better. We had 1 short break before the new altitude record of 2010m. There we had an amazing! view on mount Ararat(or Aĝrı, mount Are as we would pronounce it). Those last kilometers provided us with a nonstop nice view on that 5000+ mountain. Just one last lunch break before Dogubayazit, and I was happy to discover that I could eat some simple soup.

Dogubayazit proved to be way less hostile then Agri, but more touristy as well. Which was a logical fact due to it being the closest town to mount Ararat. During the last few km's into the center of dogubayazit we had one of the few encounters with kids throwing stuff at us. It was not even a stone, just a small nut from a sunflower. The other kid found it funny to make a slamming movement with a water bottle. Harmless as it was, funny is another thing, so I started to expect another "nice" town like Agri. Things turned out to be different. After we bounced our way into Dogubayazit we met a swiss cyclist at the postal office. He recommend his hotel, also named Hotel Tehren(like our hotel in Erzurum). Glad to know in advance that we could spend our night in a decent hotel we went there. It appeared to be just like those backpacker hotels I always stayed at in South-America. Friendly staff, 1-2 computers with internet, breakfast and loads of international backpackers and cyclists. Those ho(s)tels are always fun to stay. Hotel Tehren was not the most fun one, but definitely a pleasant one.

So the next morning we got up, with an amazing view on Mount Ararat, and after sharing our breakfast with Emmanuel(the swiss guy) we decided to cross the border together with him. Hence we cycled with 4 people once more. The route to the border was relatively easy, especially after they closed down two lanes for maintenance, which proved to be a perfect road for us. No cars, no holes, just a little bit of dirt, and underneath smooth tarmac. Now I do have to come back on the no cars. One car overtook us, which wasn't really a problem, but the Truck driver who sounded his truck horn right behind scared the crap out of me. It sounded like he was RIGHT behind us, instead of 3 meters to the left of us. So that was the second heart attack I suffered this journey. First the dog who got hit instead of one of us (right before we crossed the border to Turkey) and now this one. It took us only a few seconds to catch our breath again and continue to talk and cycle. All of us where rather curious about the Iranian border, would they finally check our bags? Would they take our knives and or stoves, would they accept the visa, would aafke get checked by a woman instead of a man, different lines? None of us where sure what to expect regarding the Iranian culture. We heard so many different things, mostly positive but sometimes also negative. In the end it appeared to be rather easy. You just maneuver your bicycle through all the traffic, hand over your passport twice at the Turkish border, then you wait a while for the fences from both countries to open, and you hand in your passport again. At that point it did get a little tricky, since the guy wandered off with all our passports in his hand. We decided to simply follow him with our bikes and not let them get out of sight any second. As you would expect from the customs, nothing went wrong, but better safe then sorry. All that was left was a short instruction about the Mexican flu, which was done by some guy who had short sentences or words written down in English on a paper. So that was it, just walk through the gate, go to the bank and exchange your dollars for Rial.

That's one thing I will have to get used to, Iranian currency. It's about 10.000 Rial for 1 dollar. This means that if you exchange 100 dollars you get a huge pile of 10.000 Rial banknotes. Stupidly enough the biggest value in Iran is 50.000 Rial, which is less then our smallest (5 euro) banknote. The other thing with Iranian money is that they have two currencies, Yes, two currencies. There is the Rial value and the Tomam value. Tomams are just to compensate for the gigantic numbers you get when using Rials. Oddly enough its just a matter of 10 Rials equalizing 1 Tomam. This means effectively that you lower all numbers with just 1 zero, while about every price I heard so far has been a 100 tomam or more, so why they do not use a factor 100 or 1000, I don't know.

But back to the according to Douwe so now and then boring chronological stuff. We planned to cycle to maku, the first big city on our way through Iran. It should have been a mere 22 kilometers, but it seemed to be even less. The thing we just didn't know was that maku is about 8-10 km long and that the center of the city is at the otherside. So we just kept on cycling on the main road for a while, so now and then asking for a bank, bus terminal and a hotel. Emmanuel hadn't trusted(or didn't feel like) changing money at the border, so he really needed a bank. This appeared to be a slight problem, due to all the banks closing on Thursday midday since Friday was a day off. The problem would be solved later on that evening. First I have to tell you another part of the story. We kept on cycling through Maku and asking for the bus terminal. When we reached the end of the city we started to doubt about the directions all the people gave us. At that point an old man addressed us in English and insisted to drink some tea at his shop. I thought that Turkish people where hospitable and friendly, but it seems Iranians take even more effort to be a good host. It is not only about the guests at their own place, but also the tourists in Iran are in general the concern of all Iranians. After drinking some tea, doing the usual talk and everything, we got proper instructions about where the bus terminal was. Even with a drawn map we almost missed the terminal, since it was hidden in some alley. Sheer luck made me see it. Else we would have missed it and cycled on for another kilometer or so. Since we wanted to take the bus to Tabriz, where we had an address to stay, and planned to recover a bit from all the diarrhea problems, we tried to buy a bus ticket. Now you should know that Iranians speak another completely different language, called Farsi, which is nicely written in Arabic. Yes Arabic writings, so all the odd figures going from the right side to the left side. Expecting another big challenge for our communication skills we parked our bikes. Once again(yes already in 1 day) the Iranians proved to be very friendly and helpful people, this time an English speaking guy helped us to buy the tickets for the bus the next morning. After that he took us to a decent hotel, where we slept for 75.000 Rial per person (or as the locals say 7.500 tomam). He even got us a nice discount there. And that was not all! He helped Emmanuel change his money, showed us a nice place to eat some Iranian sandwich (which comes down to a normal sandwich but then with liver instead of a burger or something). Here Douwe and I had our first go at some Iranian beer, beer?!?! Yes beer in Iran. Its there, but then without alcohol, and it didn't even tasted like beer. It's just some odd drink which has Hop, malt, water and some chemical flavor added to it. We tried the pineapple and the peaches version. Both weren't worth another try, but we tried it at least! Oh and we didn't knew it was alcohol free beer, it was just merely trying something we didn't knew. This time we had bad luck, but often you're lucky and then you find something local which tastes awesome, be it a drink or something to eat. The rest of the evening the guy showed us around Maku and helped us as good as we could. But after a day with customs, 60km of cycling we didn't wanted to make it too late. So after a few hours we went to the hotel and said goodbye.

The next morning the three of us got on the bus and drove to Tabriz. Emmanuel wanted to cycle those 250 km. In Tabriz, we had to ask around a bit before we found Ingrid her house. To be honest, a nearby shop called to her home phone and her daughter in law came to pick us up.  We've spent a nice few days in Tabriz, recovering and preparing the rest of our route through Iran. But that's something for the next story, since Douwe and I already gave you about 9 pages worth of reading.