Laura at the base of the tombs near Persepolis. Iran is a fascinating place, and well worth the effort of arranging visas on the road. In our case, we got our visas in Turkey.

Since getting back to Canada, our site has been getting a lot of search traffic on the topic of our journey from Turkey overland into Iran. I’ve also had people on other websites I frequent ask me questions about this particular border crossing. This post is just meant for those folks looking for more information on this topic. When we were in Turkey, we went through our own period of uncertainty once we decided to cross into Iran. There is not a lot of info out there about how to do it.

Here’s what we did to arrange Iranian visas in Turkey, in mid-2010:

1. Arranged for Iranian Visas through a third-party Iranian visa agency (Touran Zamin)

There’s a few other agencies offering this service but after reading online reviews, Touran Zamin seemed to be the most highly regarded overall. In our experience, they were very prompt and friendly. We had some questions about the intricacies of the visas (more on that below), and they did their best to explain things. What these guys do is to contact the Iranian government ministry responsible for issuing visas, and submit an application on your behalf to have your visa pre-approved by the ministry. They will then issue an approval number to you and to the Iranian embassy or consulate of your choice. You simply bring that number to the consulate after a certain date, and they will issue your visa, no real questions asked. Touran Zamin promises something like a 10-day turnaround, after which (if approved) you can go to the embassy and get your visa. In our case, they delivered it in about a week, and we were approved on our first try.

If you are not approved, I have read that you can apply again and your previous failed application shouldn’t count against you. The situation with tourist visa approvals has changed several times over the past ten years during moments of diplomatic squabbles between Iran and western countries. The ministry has been known to reject applications from foreign nationals of specific countries during these times. To be fair, the West given Iran a pretty tough go of things in a lot of ways. Diplomacy is always a two-way street.

Special note: Americans cannot currently visit Iran as independent travellers due to obvious diplomatic issues between the two countries. However, Americans are allowed to visit as part of an Iranian-organized guided tour group. Unfortunately, I can’t say anything about these tours, except that my mother-in-law went on a trip like that several years ago and has never said anything bad about it. Also: an Israeli stamp in your passport will nix your travel plans to Iran, and vice versa, as far as I know.

You can always skip the middle man (Touran Zamin), and just apply to the embassy directly, but then they submit that application to the ministry, and the process is supposedly much longer (weeks to months). You can also apply for a visa from the Iranian Embassy in your home country, but this is apparently another drawn out process, taking months sometimes. As far as I can tell, going through one of the visa agencies is the quickest possible way.

All of this was done by email and through the Touran Zamin website, except that international sanctions have cut Iran off from the international monetary sytem, so Touran Zamin, as an Iranian company, cannot accept credit cards. Instead they ask you to submit their fee to a German bank account. Once you provide a tracking number to them for the payment, they release your approval code by email. Sound like a bad spy movie? It gets more complicated from here...

2. Paid the Visa Agency fee through a bank

We tried several Turkish banks, in the hopes that we could give them the German account number and the fee, and they could do the transfer for us for an additional bank fee. This involved a few hours of hoofing it around Antalya. If you’ve ever been to Antalya, you’ll know that there are many, many things more fun to see and do in Antalya than visit its banks. So I hope this post can save you from wasting your time as we did. Basically, they all said no.

We needed to have an account with them to do it, and although we had the option of opening one (which surprised me), we didn’t think that made much sense. In the end we went through our own bank back in Canada. I believe if you have a European bank account, you won’t have these issues.

For us, because we are Canadian, the German bank number Touran Zamin gave us did not play nice with our own North American banking system (for one thing, the number of digits in a bank account is different). We had hoped to put the payment through online, but we actually had to get in touch with our bank back home by phone and email, including some faxes and signed papers, in order to transfer the fee. We weren’t really in a rush, so all of this occurred over about three weeks. If you are in a hurry, you should be able to do it in less than two.

Total Cost For Visa Agency Deal:

• 35 Euros (for each visa) to Touran Zamin for visa approval service*
• $15 charge from our bank for the transfer
• $20-ish incidental costs for things like Internet, international phone cards and faxes
• A wasted afternoon in beautiful Antalya

*Note: this fee is just the agency fee, and is on top of the actual visa fee you pay later at the embassy.

3. Arranged to pick up our Iranian Visas at the Iranian Embassy in Ankara, Turkey

The other nice thing about going through an agency is that you can arrange to pick up your visa at any Iranian embassy in the world (I think). For us, we told Touran Zamin that we would be able to get them in Ankara, Turkey’s capital city. I’ve heard that the Ankara Embassy (Iran’s main embassy in Turkey) is one of the best places to go. People have been known to get them in smaller cities closer to the border, but I’ve also heard mixed things about the success in those embassies. We chose to play it safe. I can’t give you much advice for countries other than Turkey, but I believe the process would be similar.

Total Cost For Arranging Visas in Ankara:

• 20 Euros (for each visa) to Touran Zamin for them to arrange to get the visa at a specific embassy

We saw a few sites in Ankara, including Ataturk’s Mausoleum. This is the promenade on the way in/out. It’s also, apparently, one of the only shots I took in three days in Ankara. That’s too bad in hindsight, but dealing with visas has a way of sucking your creativity and will power for photography. Apparently.

4. Spent three days in Ankara seeing the sites and jumping through bureaucratic hoops

It took three days, and five visits to the Embassy to finally get the visas.

You need a few things to actually get the visa. Make sure you have them before going to the embassy:

• passports
• passport photos (bring a couple copies minimum)
• passport photocopies (bring a couple copies minimum)
• visa fee

We woke our first morning in Ankara intent on finding a copy place and passport photography studio and then heading to the embassy to pick up our visas. We figured we could be done wrangling our visas by dinner time. Imagine how proud of ourselves we were after asking directions led to us to what we needed in less than an hour. Unfortunately, our luck didn’t hold much after that.

The copy shop we found ( a small internet cafe with a photocopier/scanner) offered a couple of challenges. Apparently, Canadian passports have security features which makes them come out unreadable on photocopies. Luckily, we had photographed our passports before leaving Canada, and emailed these pictures to ourselves as backups. So instead, we logged into our email and printed these photos.

The photo place was just around the corner, and we got some usable, but very unflattering headshots of ourselves in Iranian visa size (I can’t remember what this is, but the photo studio knew). Special Note: Iran is an Islamic theocracy. Women are expected to keep Hijab (wearing a headscarf and covering their arms and legs), including in their visa photos. The family at the photo studio got quite a kick out of seeing Laura figure out how to put hers on for the first time.

It was about a 30 min. walk to the Embassy, and as we approached I reached into my bag to get all of our papers out and ready. We stopped for a moment so Laura could put on her scarf. This is when I realized that I left my passport at the copy place in the guy’s scanner. I jogged the 3 km back to the copy place, cursing my blatant stupidity every step of the way. Luckily, our friend at the copy shop was neither dishonest, nor particularly aware that he had my passport in his scanner. I sheepishly asked for the passport, and then jogged back to the embassy, while Laura waited patiently in a park. It was only now, after ringing the bell fruitlessly at the embassy gate, that we learned from a passing Turk that the embassy was closed that day for a holiday. So we trudged back toward the hotel, along the same three kilometre route I had just run. It seemed a fitting conclusion to a bungling day.

The next day we did it all again, only this time we had what we needed and knew where to go.

Total Cost For Visa Paperwork:

• Probably $20 for passport copies, Internet access, and photos (I don’t recall how many Turkish Lira, but it wasn’t any more than this)

5. Finally got into the Embassy

The embassy was a bit  of an experience. We were buzzed in through a big gate, and then buzzed in through a second security area where we signed in with a bored looking security guard, before being ushered into a waiting room. There were several Iranians sitting in creeky old chairs, existing in what appeared to be various stages of bureaucratic limbo. Nobody was speaking. A TV in the corner blared Iranian national TV, cutting out to loud and blurry static more often than showing clear pictures. Nobody turned it down or off.

Paintings of Iran’s revolutionary leader, Ayatollah Khomeini and his successor, Ayatollah Khamenie, stared down at us. One wall was a giant one-way window.

There was no number system, and no apparent order for who was to be called next. Our only glimpse into officialdom was two reinforced glass windows with surly looking moustached officials behind them. We didn’t want to be rude, so we weren’t sure if we should go to the windows or wait to be called. One of the women in the waiting room made a helpful gesture to beckon us to go ahead and approach one of the windows, so we did.

The man turned out to be friendlier than he looked, especially after we told him that we planned to go to Tabriz, one of several Iranian cities we had memorized based on maps in our guidebook. Since we weren’t planning on being Iran for several more weeks, we really didn’t know much about Tabriz or most of the other cities we recited. Our trip was too off-the-cuff to plan that far ahead. We had just read somewhere that the Embassy would want to know your loose itinerary, so we had memorized one.

“Tabriz! That is my city!” he said with obvious pleasure. “It is very beautiful. Most beautiful place in Iran.”

Once the man from Tabriz learned that we had a pre-approval number from the ministry, he dispatched someone to fetch our file. After a bit of waiting he called us up again and told us that we would have to pay a fee, leave our passports, and come back in ten days to collect our visas. Laura and I looked at each other. Disappointment clear on both of our faces. Ten days! We had scheduled some flights out of Turkey within the week (it’s a long story) and the prospect of spending ten more days waiting around Ankara wasn’t really in the plan. I very politely explained this, and asked if there was anything the man from Tabriz could do. He went away again, ostensibly to speak to a superior, and came back to tell us that if we paid the fee and left our passports today, we could pick up our visas tomorrow. He gave us directions to a bank down the street where we could pay our fee. We thanked him profusely and stressed just how much we were looking forward to seeing the unrivalled beauty of Tabriz.

The unrivalled beauty of Tabriz (we always seemed to go to markets on Fridays, when they are closed for prayers).

6. Paid the visa fee at a local bank; got our Iranian Visas

Again, Iran is cut off from the international monetary system, so don’t expect to be able to whip out your credit card and get things done. In fact, they don’t accept cash either, at least not at the embassy directly. Instead you have to go down to a local bank to make a deposit into their account. The embassy will give you a slip of paper that you can give the teller. This didn’t take very long, but I believe we had to pay some more fees to the bank on top of our visa fees. We did all of this in Turkish currency (I think... it may have been Euros). You have to bring the deposit receipt back to the embassy, as well as drop off your passport.

Content that we were finally getting things done, we dropped off our passports with a plan to return the next day. After our first four visits, by now we had our route to the embassy all figured out, and had no problems arriving early in the day to collect our visas. True to his word, the man from Tabriz had everything ready for us, and we left him with our gratitude and one last comment about the fabled beauty of his home city.

Total Cost For Actual Visa Fee:

• It’s funny; I can’t remember for sure. I think it was around $170 each. If I can dig this info up somewhere, I will update this. It doesn’t matter much anyway, this fee is different for different nationalities. I think we also paid a small fee to the bank for the transaction.

7. Travelled to Van, in Eastern Turkey to arrange a bus ride across the border

Although our trip took us out of Turkey and then back again before we headed east, most travellers will likely want to use their visas sooner. The visas are good for three months from date of issue. Train and bus travel in Turkey is excellent, although the distances are often longer than they seem. We eventually made it to Van by train, where we bought some bus tickets to cross the border into Iran. I don’t remember what the bus cost to go from Van to Orumiyeh, Iran, but it wasn’t particularly expensive. Maybe equivalent to 20 or 40 dollars each. It was about an eight hour drive, and we were the only westerners on the bus. We chatted politely with some of the mostly Iranian passengers. We learned the man from Tabriz is not the only Iranian who believes his home is the most beautiful part of the country. We also got our first taste of very pleasant Iranian hospitality, with offers of shared food and polite conversation.

8. Had one of the easiest border crossings ever, and really enjoyed our time in Iran

The border crossing itself was, frankly, a breeze, although we were a little concerned about our visas. Because we had waited close to the three month period of validity before crossing the border (the visas can be used for up to three months after getting them), we were concerned that if that period ran out while we were in the country, that our visas would be officially expired. I know that’s a little confusing, and it’s because we are talking about two things: our visas were 30-day visas, meaning we could stay in Iran for up to 30 days. But they also had a validity period of three months. This is the window of time that begins when you get the visa in your passport, and ends when you cross the border into Iran. If you don’t cross the border within that 3 months, you will have to apply for a new visa.

I was concerned that since we would be crossing the border only a couple of days before the end of this window that we would have problems. We didn’t. And you probably won’t either. This was one area where I could find very little info online, and I was admittedly concerned leading up to our border crossing. I scoured the Lonely Planet forums to little avail and even asked Touran Zamin by email what they thought. They replied that they were “pretty sure” it would be fine, but a worst case scenario would involve extending our visas in Iran before they expire.

I asked the border guards, but the only thing they cared about is that our visas were valid when they stamped it. They said not to worry about anything and to enjoy our 30 days in Iran. Although we got called into a special line for foreigners, and spoke briefly with a couple of border officials in a small office space, they were all very friendly, and processed us in less than twenty minutes. We met a pair of German motorcyclists who were also crossing into Iran, and from what I could tell, they were processed very fast as well. Our entire bus pulled out of there in under 30 minutes, and we were in!

A couple more notes on travel in Iran:

1. Yes, you need to bring cash into Iran. There are no bank machines in the country that can access the international monetary system. I’ve heard it’s possible to get credit card advances in some of the biggest hotels in Tehran, but it’s not easy or advisable to rely on this. Traveller’s cheques aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on. We brought a combination of American dollars and Euros, split up and tucked away in various places on us and in our bags. I believe it was less than $3000, and we left the country with money left after thirty days.

2. Iran is really friendly, so bring some small gifts or pictures from home to show people. The language barrier, when it exists, is usually not enough to stop people from trying to welcome you to their country. Pictures etc. make great conversation helpers and break the awkwardness of not being able to say much.

3. Expect to be surprised: whatever your expectations of Iran, just know that you probably have it all wrong. Not very many countries have had so much baloney said about them in the western media, especially where so much of that is propaganda and lies and foolishness. Years of sanctions and hard-nosed foreign policy have punished the people of Iran unfairly, crippling the kind of economic development and cultural exchange that could benefit Iranians and break down these stereotypes. These policies have been utter failures, implemented in order to weaken a distasteful regime, but often strengthening it instead. Try not to act surprised the first time someone says “Ahmadinejad is Terrorist!” to you on the street. Sentiment among Iran’s 70-million people is as diverse as you’d expect.

It is a fascinating country, with millennia of historical and cultural heritage. It is also easily the most friendly country we’ve visited. I hope this helps some of you get there. If you have specific questions, post them in the comments below.

Cheers,
Chris Beauchamp

p.s. — Enjoy a few more pictures, just because. You can see a bunch more in our Iran posts from during our trip. Search the archives at the top of the page, or click here.

Downtown Tehran: looking much like any other sizable city.

One of our cab drivers. He looks mean, but he’s actually smiling. We had several really nice cab drivers (and one absolutely terrible one).

Some kids in Yazd, who agreed to let me snap a picture.

Night market in Tehran.

Scenery outside Hamedan.

Us and our good friend Abed from Esfahan. Unfortunately, all of the good pictures I took in Esfahan (including some nice portraits of Abed on the rooftops) were lost.

The skyline of Yazd.

Traditional house architecture in Yazd. Those are wind towers, meant to channel the breeze into houses to cool them.

Tehran’s main bazaar.

The volcano at Takht-e-Suleyman. We hiked up it in about ten minutes to look into the dormant caldera. It was kind of surreal.

Typical Iranian restaurant fare.

Related posts:

1. Crossing the border from Turkey into Iran
2. Learn about the symbols of Iranian “Persian” Carpets (Video)
3. Iran — First Impressions

The slightly mad King who had this place constructed had statues made representing the major gods, his brethren, and then placed his own statue among them, of course. This one is one of the gods.

It really is a strange place. The head on the left is the King

Tourists throng this place at sunset and sunrise, even though it’s three hours from civilization, and that means doing crazy things like getting up at 2 am. We were lucky because we stayed on the mountain; we got to sleep in till 4 am!

Laura Beauchamp, International Adventure Photographer (for hire).

The little building was the hotel we stayed in on top of the mountain. The pyramidal shape on the horizon is the manmade pile of rubble that crowns the peak.

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Chris and I say goodbye to Turkey and our Lonely Planet Turkey guide which Chris carried around for about 4 months.

The bus left Van at 9:45 am. Tired, a bit hungry (because I’m always a little hungry) and still sick, I struggled to keep my eyes open. I don’t know what it is about buses but they’re always rocking me to sleep. When I managed to keep my eyes open I saw a wonderful landscape unfolding before me. Fields turned into shrubbery-covered mountains that, for some reason, reminded me of the Hindu Kush in Afghanistan. Perhaps it is from photos I have seen.

While driving from Van, Turkey to Iran we spot this magnificent stone fort out the window.

We got to the border at 2:00 p.m. Immediately when the bus stopped I folded the headscarf I held in my hands, wrapped in around my head and safety-pinned it under my chin. The man and his family who were sitting by us and had conversed with throughout the bus ride, giggled and smiled. “She says you look like you’re seven or eight years old,” he told me.

“Wonderful,” I thought. “I was hoping to lose a few years in appearance but not that many.”

Chris and I stepped off the bus with our belongings. At the top of a mountain, to the left of the buildings in front of us, were huge billboards with the faces of the past and current Ayatollahs, the religious leaders of Iran. Uncertain of where to go, we hesitantly entered a door way. We were surrounded by temporary walls covered in mirror-like material. A man ushered us to line-up with the rest of our bus to “check-out” of Turkey.

We walked through a hall, or what I like to think of as “limbo” between countries. Obvious westerners, we were ushered through a separate doorway and told to take a seat. Two older Swiss men entered at the same time.  They started up a conversation. “That looks good. It’s real natural like, what with Allah written on it and all...” one of the men commented on my headscarf. “Did you wear that in Turkey?” asked the other man. “No,” I replied. “I put it on 5-minutes ago. I have to wear it in Iran. It’s the law.”

Five to seven minutes later the Iranian border guard came back and addressed me as “Miss Laura” as he gave my passport back. That was that. We walked through another door and we were in Iran. Customs didn’t even look at any of our luggage. No scanners, nothing. And everything was done with such a calm, friendly demeanour.

Before I could blink a man was up in my face asking, “Change? Change?”. Confused, I went and stood by Chris for protection. It is impossible to get Iranian currency outside of the country so they were trying their best to grab visitors seconds after entering. What a bunch of sharks! We declined and decided to wait until we got to the city in the hopes of a better rate.

One of the first things I noticed in Iran besides a difference in house architecture, were the painted advertisements on the sides of buildings like this one.

Two hours later we arrived at Orumiyeh, Iran.  As soon as we stepped off the bus we were harassed by taxi drivers.  I was tripping over luggage, including my own. The space between our bus and the next was so small, that with all the taxi drivers, luggage and passengers, it was frustratingly claustrophobic.

One driver managed to snag us, saying he could take us to exchange money. He took us to a shop outside the bus terminal. A very sturdy, serious looking man sat behind a desk.  All around him were stacks and stacks of boxed goods from juice boxes to yard decorations. The man spoke some English, something we would later learn is very rare. He was the man with the power and the money. After learning we are Canadian he quickly said, “Canada is much better than Iran”. Being only 2.5 hours into the country I didn’t feel I was in a position to agree or disagree.

One of our cozy hotel rooms in Iran. It’s practically impossible to get a room with a double bed, so Chris and I usual find ourselves in a room with two singles or sometimes even four singles. For $25 US dollars a night, the beds are slightly on the shady side but not the worst we’ve slept on by far.

In the last six days it has become very apparent to me that people are not saying “hello” to me, they are not talking to me, or ask me where I am from, they are talking and asking Chris. This state of bystander existence I receive as a foreign woman is quite hard to get used to.  Yet on the flip side, men (but primarily women) stare at me without shame.  It’s also very hard to get used to that. I try my best to ignore the stares, or to simply smile back.

Related posts:

1. Traveling from Turkey to Iran: Iranian visa information
2. Laws broken within the first 48-hours in Iran
3. Iran — First Impressions

These boys followed us for a while, delighted to try chatting and have their photos taken.

We had one of our best single days in Diyarbakır, thanks to the generosity and eagerness of one man to share his city and culture with two total strangers. We met Muzaffer while walking down the street, in what seemed at first like just another friendly “where are you from?”

It’s a common enough thing for strangers to stop us on the street and ask. It’s also a part of most of our commercial transactions, as normal as making change or leaving a Lira or two as a tip. “Where are you from?”

“Canada,” we’ll say, and usually it ends there. Sometimes someone might go out on a limb, testing their knowledge of geography. “Toronto?” they might ask, hesitantly. “Vancouver?” Almost no one has ever heard of Calgary.

So when Muzaffer stopped us, we assumed the exchange would be along those lines. Instead we found ourselves deep in conversation, talking religion, politics, learning some Kurdish words, and with an invitation to join Muzaffer on a visit to the local community centre.

Muzaffer took us to another cultural centre: a courtyard full of mostly old men, having lyrical showdowns not unlike a rap-off.

As the unofficial capital of Kurdistan, Diyarbakır is a conflicted place in many ways. The population is almost entirely Kurdish, and there are strong feelings of discontent with the way Turkey has treated this region and its people. Kurdish nationalist sentiment is extremely strong and widespread, in a way that only suppressed nationalist movements tend to be. Traveling in Western Turkey, we saw newscasts in virtually every city depicting Diyarbakır and other cities in the east as places constantly on the brink of riots, with dramatic stock footage of clashes between police and protesters backed up with a musical score that would make Hollywood proud. These newscasts superimpose these images with flashing banner text that decries the “Terrorism” of the Kurds and often cut to shots of soldiers’ funerals. Based on talking to people in the western part of the country, these sensationalist news reports are very good at doing what they’re designed to do: generate fear. Fear of terrorism, fear of the Kurds, fear of the breakup of Turkey. Over 30 Turkish soldiers have been killed in the fighting in recent months.

I won’t claim to be an expert on this situation, or all of the historical causes, or who’s right and who’s wrong on any given issue, but I do know that the Kurds have as legitimate a claim to autonomy as any other ethnic group, and that Turkey’s efforts at assimilation and suppression of Kurdish nationalism and Kurdish culture have often been brutal. The Twentieth Century saw a longstanding guerilla war between Kurdish separatists and the Turkish military. Executions and atrocities were carried out on both sides, and a guerilla war is still being waged in southeastern Turkey. Collective punishments have been commonplace, including withholding much needed funding for economic and community development. For years the Turkish government banned Kurdish language and even forbade naming children with Kurdish names. Even the name of the city is contested: officially it is Diyarbakır, but to every Kurd within it, is known by its Kurdish name, Amed.

So perhaps Muzaffer’s hospitality is one way for him to defend the heritage he and all Kurds hold so dear. Aside from just being a good guy (which he certainly is), showing foreigners around his city is a way to show off its Kurdish roots. It is an explicit acknowledgment that Kurdish culture is unique and distinct; Kurdish hospitality sincere and genuine. For us it was both fascinating and enjoyable, to see Amed through local eyes. We saw live music in both newer and older traditions, toured some of the city’s 6km of old walls, and enjoyed dinner, tea and plenty of conversation before capping the night with a few riddles. Thanks again Muzaffer!

Muzaffer, all around nice guy.

Children in Diyarbakir. It was a delight walking down the street here and having every child bravely shout out the one English word they know in hope of a response from the strange foreigners: “Hello!”

The fortified walls overlooking the Tigris river valley. Apparently women tie these little bits of plastic bag to the fence in order to make wishes.

Young people in the Kurdish Cultural Centre learn and share Kurdish folk music.

Everyone was extremely friendly. They also encouraged me to take a hand in the singing and guitar playing. I don’t think “A Boy Named Sue” was what they had in mind, but it was worth a laugh or two.

Our host, Muzaffer, teases one of the younger guys.

...

...

Muzaffer took us to another cultural centre: a courtyard full of mostly old men, having lyrical showdowns not unlike a rap-off.

...

This shoe-shiner badly wanted his photo taken as well.

School time?

Diyarbakir.

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2. Gallipoli Battlefields
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Although some of my homesickness might be brought on by the fact that my entire body is aching, my eyeballs hurt and my head is pounding. To say the least, I’m glad I brought Imodium.  To make the situation even worse, Chris is also feeling like this.  I hope we get on our feet soon because we should jump on a bus and head into Iran. Right now we’re in a city called Van which is very close to the border.  To get here we took a 7-hour bus ride from Diyarbakir where we spent two nights and had a wonderful adventure.

Chris and I enjoying a break in Istanbul on some ridiculous cushions.

The crescent moon and the star are the symbols of Turkey. This is looking out the train window during our 30-hour train ride from Istanbul to Malatya.

Chris and I with Muzaffer, a man who showed us all the sites of Diyarbakir out of the kindness of his heart. He spent 6 hours with us. He was that eager and willing to teach people the Kurdish way and culture.

Muzaffer wanted this photo to look “natural” so this is the pose he chose. Hee,hee. Silly guy.

We’ve had people ask us throughout our trip if we are homesick, but honestly until recently I wasn’t.  Lately, all of my dreams have been about home.  I didn’t think I would feel homesick for Canada, especially in Muslim countries because I spent 10-years of my life in Saudi Arabia. For 10-years I heard prayer call, and felt the sweltering heat that makes you sweat just from standing in it. I loved it. It was home from age 8–18.

When my dad retired from the company in Saudi we of course moved back to Canada.  I didn’t feel Canadian. I felt like a visitor. I didn’t own a winter coat, or even more than a couple pairs of socks. Everything was strange, quiet and cold. I use to walk down 17^th Ave looking at all the people having a good time inside the warm bars. One of them even had a palm tree painted on the window. (Everyone is always wishing or thinking they’d be happier somewhere else.) I was homesick for Saudi and lonely. Of course I eventually made friends in Canada. I found a family of them in University and even a husband! I learnt the ways of being Canadian. I got use to putting on a sweater, a hoody and then my winter jacket before going outside.  Although it took me about six years to finally admit I shouldn’t be wearing a skirt in January.

So here I am, in weather where I don’t need a winter coat or even a sweater and for some damn reason I’m homesick for Canada’s seasons and many of its other attributes.  I’m homesick for how green and lush trees look in the summer time.  I’m homesick for the freshness and crispness of our air. And for bathtubs, and toilet paper in public restrooms. I’m homesick for a big, thick Alberta beef steaks. I’m homesick for Taber corn and perogies. I’m homesick for pork roast. I’m homesick for different varieties of food like Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Italian, etc. I’m homesick for a washer and dryer. I’m homesick for a kitchen. I’m homesick for having more than 5 shirts and 2 bottoms as a wardrobe. I’m homesick because I don’t have a home.

One example of what our hotel rooms usually look like, and how we’ve been doing laundry for the better part of 5.5 months (except for our wonderful month in Italy).

This is Ayran. It’s a drink made out of yogurt, water and salt. Here in eastern Turkey they serve it in large cups or bowls, instead of the manufactured plastic cans like in the west. Just one small difference between western and eastern Turkey.

Me watching the sunset on top of Nemrut Dagi.

I’m guilty of wanting to be somewhere else on –30 degree days in Canada, but now that I have been away for 5.5 months I know that it takes seeing and experiencing other places to remind me that my home is Canada. That it is a fantastic place to live. I guess it turns out I’m more Canadian and feel more Canadian than I ever thought I was.  I look forward to coming home.  In fact, I might just kiss the ground when we get back and take three week vacations to hot destinations.

(I apologize for the quality of the photos. They were all taken with our small point-shoot.)

Related posts:

1. Feeling Fantastic in Fethiye
2. Photo Update!
3. Home sweet home

We plan on heading into Iran in three days and apparently Internet is very hard to come by, so I’ll try to get a few posts ready to be published automatically throughout the next week. I promise we will try our best to let you know how it’s going and our where abouts in Iran. I know how nervous some of you are about us going there, and how jealous the rest of you are. Ha, ha.

Anyways, for now, enjoy these photos. Ciao! –Laura–

The giant heads at the top of Nemrut Dagi in eastern Turkey. Behind them is an enormous mound, which Chris and I found even more impressive than the heads, because every little stone was put there by humans. It is supposedly the burial mound of the king, although no one really knows if his remains are truly underneath it.

One of the lions guarding the burial mound of Nemrut Dagi in eastern Turkey.

Chris pointing out that various types of cigarettes were listed in the dessert section in a restaurant in Brasov, Romania.

A lovely gate in Fez, Morocco.

A stop sign in Morocco.

Fez, Morocco.

An excellent example of the craftsmanship of Morocco found in the detail of a door.

Minutes before leaving camp and starting our 60 kilometer trek.

I laugh so hard when I look at this photo, I cry. Look at Chris! Poor guy is all beet down from the Sahara. This is him taking his last few steps of the 60 kilometer walk. Behold, the Erg Chigaga dunes lie just ahead of him.

Chris resting and Rashid cooking during our first lunch break of our 3-day trek through the Sahara.

Yeah! We’re on camels! As you can see I was extremely happy.

I’m riding a full loaded camel down a mini-dune. It was a little scary. It gets your heart going and blood pumping a little to remind you that you’re alive. That was a lot of weight on those thin camel legs.

Our camels and guide, Rashid, in the Sahara desert in Morocco.

Sahara desert, Morocco.

Chris walking through the Sahara desert.

Sahara desert trek. Note, you don’t ride the camels unless you arrange to pay for another camel so that you can ride instead of walk. This was not made clear to us before we started our journey. Ah well, it’s one walk I’ll never forget.

This is Amezrou, the old Jewish kasbah near Zagora, Morocco.

Chris and Mohammad, the man who arranged our 4-night, 3-day Sahara trek. He was very friendly.

Chris took this shot.

Marrakech, Morocco.

Marrakech, Morocco.

Marrakech, Morocco.

Essaouira, Morocco.

A candle holder in the Gothic cathedral in Milano, Italy.

A cyclist in Piacenza, Italy.

Chris looking handsome as ever at the top of Nemrut Dagi in eastern Turkey.

Related posts:

1. Sahara Diaries, Part 3: Camel Trekking and Arabic Lessons
2. Sahara Diaries, Part 5: Night of the Thousand Stars, Snakes, and other Deadly Encounters
3. Sahara Diaries, Part 4: Rashid, Pain, and More Pain

If you’re coming to Istanbul, you can find these guys at www.secondhomehostel.com or through common booking sites like Hostel World and Trip Advisor. We recommend it!

p.s. — This video is dedicated to Ben and Pen Clark. Thanks for hooking it up guys!

Related posts:

1. The Basilica Cistern in Istanbul, Turkey
2. Everyday Istanbul
3. “The Truth” about Istanbul

In about three hours, we’ll be leaving on a 26-hour train to a city in Eastern Turkey called Malatya. From there we plan to visit a famous mountain called Nemrut Dagi (“Nem-rut Dog-kuh”) before crossing the border into Iran. It’s raining here in Istanbul (for the fourth day straight) so we’re excited to move on.

The train ride should be great since we have our own sleeper cabin. So we’ll be kicking our feet up, taking in the scenery and maybe enjoying a bottle of wine. We have some catching up to do around the blog, so expect both Laura and I to upload some photo-roundups within the next few days, or as soon as we have decent Internet again. Hope everyone is well, wherever you are.

- Chris

Related posts:

1. The Basilica Cistern in Istanbul, Turkey
2. Everyday Istanbul
3. “The Truth” about Istanbul

One of the photos I took in February and posted on this blog is a finalist in a photo contest over at IstanbulEats.com. Please vote for my pic here, by emailing istanbuleats3@gmail.com with the subject heading “Turkey Vote Chris Simit”.

There are some good photos entered, so I don’t really expect to win, but the prizes include dinner in Istanbul, and since we are heading back that way in a few weeks, you’ll be helping to feed some hungry travelers. They ask you to only vote once. The contest closes on the 18th of May, so go vote now (and tell your friends)!

Thanks!

Chris

p.s. — Simit are the type of Turkish bread rings the vendor in the photo is pushing around.

p.p.s. — We are almost certainly still out in the desert when this post gets published (I set it up to publish while we were in Marakesh. Talk to you all soon!)

Related posts:

1. Second Home Hostel, Istanbul, Turkey
2. “The Truth” about Istanbul
3. The Basilica Cistern in Istanbul, Turkey

A typical view of a street in Antalya, Turkey.

The city is located on the Mediterranean ocean. It’s natural fortifications resemble those of Dieppe in France. The city is perched on dramatic and beautiful cliffs. Walks, promenades and quaint parks weave in and out along this impressive coastline. The buildings in the old city all look as if they just received a fresh coat of paint. The shops display colourful shawls, pillow cases and rugs. Above all, the people of Antalya are welcoming, relaxed and friendly.

Rugs for sale in the old town in Antalya. This area is extremely picturesque and caters to tourists in every way.

The beautiful, well kept buildings of Antalya. Notice how the upper floor sticks out further then the first floor?

In fact, having just joined CouchSurfing 10 days before arriving, Chris and I were aware of a monthly CouchSurfing meeting occurring while we were in Antalya. We were also aware that Ben and Pen, the Australian couple we first met on our Gallipoli Battlefield Tour, were also in the city, so of course we had to meet up with them. On purpose we hunted down the hotel they were staying at. We enjoyed our breakfasts and dinners with them. We also visited the Antalya Museum which does a wonderful job of taking you from the stone age to more recent finds from Turkey. The museum costs 15 Turkish Lira ($10 CAN). My advice is to make sure you are well fed before you go to the museum because they do not have any food on site and the security will not let you re-enter even a few minutes later if you leave (not the greatest customer service). We unfortunately had to rush through the museum because we were feeling very faint.

An example at the Antalya Museum of the traditional Turkish blue tiles.

An example at the Antalya Museum of the traditional Turkish blue tiles.

The ancient civilizations of Turkey use to bury their dead in large pots. Here is one such individual on display in the Antalya Museum (15.00 Turkish Lira/person)

This is an ancient burial pot from Turkey. It stands roughly five feet tall. Observing the burial pots on display in the Antalya Museum, I was amazed at how small the majority of the pots are, and curious to know just how big the pot would have to be to hold me or Chris. Huge!

We enjoyed the company of our friends but Ben and Pen left Antalya before us, catching the bus that night to Cappadocia. The morning after they left Chris and I were 80% sure we were going to get the bus that night to catch up with them but while enjoying breakfast Chris piped up and said, “I forgot to tell you something...” He mentioned the .CA contest and I agreed that we should enter. In order to do so we would need to stay and work on the development and full production of the video in Antalya. We brain stormed for hours at the hotel.  For a break we headed to a cafe with the view of the sea. While enjoying our Efes beer and throwing ideas back and forth a man approached us. He asked if he could sit with us and chat. This had not happened to us before, so not wanting to be entirely rude I said he was welcome to sit next to us but that we were busy working. “Working?”, he questioned. After I mumbled a few other things and Chris too was trying to explain he said, “Let me guess. You’re Chris and your Laura.” Chris and I were both shocked and our minds frantically tried to figure out how he knew that. “The blog? Surely not.”, I thought. Then Chris said, “Turker”. And so it was!

Turker is an ambassador on CouchSurfing. We had e-mailed  back and forth a few times but had not planned on meeting. He was persistent and determined to find us. Apparently, while strolling around Antalya with his mom and sister he looked everywhere for us. He said he saw us go into the restaurant. At least he was pretty sure it was us. So the three of them sat at another table on the side walk level and when a table became available on the patio where we sat they changed tables. Whipping open the ever handy cell phone he signed onto CouchSurfing and had his mom and sister compare our profile photo with us. They agreed, it must be us and he was right. Can you believe it?!

Needless to say we put the video work aside and had the most enjoyable afternoon hanging out with Turker and his mom and sister. We chatted as we finished our beers and with Turker as our guide we hopped onto a city bus to visit the local waterfall. We returned from the waterfall just in time to catch the 6:30 pm nightly light and water show at the cities main downtown park. I haven’t seen such a wonderful display and synchronization of water and music since Disneyland.

It just so happened that it was also the day of the CouchSurfing Antalya meeting. So, promptly after enjoying a lovely meal with Turker and his sister, we went to the designated bar to meet and meet and meet. In the course of the evening and into the wee hours of the morning Chris and I made conversation with many locals and some other travellers who came to the meeting as well. We could not have found a better way to start meeting the CouchSurfing community.

In Antalya the pomp-trees come equip with buttons to hail a taxi. Amazing! I think this is something Canada should pick up, perhaps not the pomp-trees but I’m sure an Elm or Blue Spruce would do just a good.

The next day I was hit with my first case of food poisoning which left me toilet/bed ridden for one day and night. With determination, between visits with the toilet, I put on a smile and we filmed the footage you see in our .CA video entry.

The next day it seemed my visits with the toilet were over so we decided to catch the 10-hour night bus to Cappadocia. All in all it took my stomach  five days to fully recover from my first experience with food poisoning.

Related posts:

1. Troy, it’s real
2. Earthquake Update and a Couchsurfer’s Plea
3. Feeling Fantastic in Fethiye