TRAVELLING THE EMBASSIES ROAD

With only five days to cross Turkmenistan, we know in advance that in this country we won't be sitting with the locals to have some tea if we want to manage to see something and be on time at the Uzbek border.

Clean and neat Ashgabat, is quite a different place from the ones that we've been used in the last few weeks, no crazy traffic circulating on top of the walkways and quiet streets are quite a surprise for us. Already passed away Turkmenbassy, rebuilt this place with typical soviet style, where big avenues meet big squares and on them, himself as the main theme in the decoration. Walking around you just can comprehend the meaning of pure egocentricity as you can see his face literally everywhere you look at.
Turkmen people are a mixture of Mongols and Russians with a more relaxed version of being Muslim, where veils are not a must which we gladly observe in their curious and characteristic faces.
With two days already gone and still on the first stop, it is time for us to hurry up and head North.
Willing not to see the whole country through the bus window, we decide to break our trip north and visit Mary, where with very little to offer and not many places to stay for travellers, we visited the bad preserved ruins of Merv and served as entertainment for the locals in town.
Having Turkmenabat as our launching point and with only a few hours to leave the country we reached the border with Uzbekistan, where after spending several hours and being checked even the colour of our dirty underwear in the backpacks , we finally made it into Uzbekistan.

Rushing up to Tashkent, willing to deal with all the bureaucracy needed for the following countries to visit and after the Chinese, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan consulates, it's more than enough to have the thought that maybe if Marco Polo would have had so much hassle in obtaining the permissions he would have changed the name of the Silk Road for the Embassies Road.
After a week in the capital waiting for our passports and hoping to get the precious stamps when we come back in a two weeks time, we set off South hoping to get a glimpse of the true Silk Road in or next stop, Samarkand.

TOUCH TO BE BLESSED

The temperature raises as we head south and the sand dunes welcome us through the window of our bus ride.
We explore Yaszd's old town and some of the Zoroastrian sites, a religion still active in this part of the country, the bazaar with charming workers who proudly teach us how they love and have been doing their jobs for many years.
Not tempted for the wine but for some important historical sites we drive our steps to Shiraz, the city of poets, where the hospitality of the people is overwhelming and we have the chance to go back in time while we walk through the ruins of Persepolis, witness of times when the Persian and Xerxes ruled over the world.
Trying to scape from a busy place to welcome the first day of the Spring and their new year, we reached Bandar-e Abbas, the Iranian biggest city in the Persian gulf. In there we observe how the traditional black veils have been changed for a more colourful ones, syndrome of the mixture of cultures to be found here. Adding the busy time of the year and maybe the extreme heat we felt some tension in the atmosphere making our photographic part of this trip a bit more complicated.

As the boats stuck in the sand waiting for the high tide to sail away, we wait for our bus ride that hopefully will take us to Kerman in the fist day of 1387.
After three days there, with our visa expiring soon and not having yet the one for Turkmenistan, we head to Mashhad, the Holy city, just to realize that maybe it was not such a good idea.
For No Ruz, more than 12 million of pilgrims come to this city just to have the chance to be close to the Shrine of the Imam Reza, one of the direct descendants of the prophet Mohammad as Shiite believe fervidly.
Thousands of people sleeping in the streets confirm our fears that maybe find a place to sleep will be a complicated task for us. Tired of carrying the backpack up and down, asking and not getting other answer than "... sorry we are full" we decided to try our last option of asking the police.
After a few phone calls and taxis, we managed to meet the head of tourism in Mashhad, give and interview to the city's newspaper and find a not so cheap hotel where we had the honour to have lunch with the Major of the city and the hotel's director... a bit too much for simple " Moshafer" like us.
With the view of the pure gold brick dome of the Holy Shrine, we adventure ourselves in the difficult task for non-Muslims of visiting the 24h crowded tomb of the Imam. Once inside, is like being on the last concert of Metallica. People cry, scream and walk on top of each other just for the chance of touching the tomb and be blessed forever... we are only spectators but of a scene that will be hard to forget.

Finally and with the fought for Turkmen visa in our passports we say goodbye to without any doubt, one of the best countries that we have ever been, with its people as a perfect example of manners and hospitality.