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Sweaty, smelly cankle girl

Saturday, April 24th, 2010

Our bus approached Dubai and out of the hazy smog I could see the worlds tallest building sticking out above the rest. We were dropped off somewhere in the middle of who-knows-where. A bland street with lots of banks and no soul. I wasn’t confident I was going to enjoy Dubai. I had 9 hours until my flight left so first priority was to store my very large bag at the airport and do something…not that I was at all sure what there was to do in Dubai other than shop.

Turns out not much. After taking the metro to one of the smaller terminals where my Iran Air flight would depart from and storing my bag for the day I tried to get off the metro somewhere central. I never did succeed in finding what I was looking for. I kind of assumed Dubai to be all gleaming streets and expensive shops but down on street level it was like any dusty dirty big middle eastern city- but only the worst bits, no culture or history and lots more cars. By this stage my ankles were swollen and I had developed some sort of heat rash that was making  its way up my legs. I was tired, it was hot. I was over Dubai within about 15minutes. I never achieved my one job of posting a few things onward to London to avoid carrying them, never seemed to find a post shop. I ended up escaping to a mall and spending all my money on expensive juice then heading to the airport early to escape the dodgy men, traffic and the heat. You would think given the amount of westerns who pass through Dubai a lone white female wouldn’t attract too much attention, but despite me being sweaty, smelly, cankle girl it was the same usual BS from men on the street.

The Dubai airport I had transferred through in previous trips was not the one I checked into, There were several terminals on the metro and I was at something much smaller seeming from what I had been to before. However once checking in I followed the signs to the gates and ended up walking around 25mins (that is a long time through and airport) to come out in the big departure terminal. I was a bit worried about the flight to Iran, I was counting on getting a visa on arrival, a privilege granted to only a handful of countries- and not many western ones. Normally the visa application is a long expensive hit and miss process. Checking in had been fine and now waiting by the gate ready to board I was hopeful it would be OK . I had heard stories of people being denied boarding because they didn’t have a visa. I pulled out my head scarf and tried to look natural draping it around my head, adjusting it awkwardly and realising, looking at the other women, I had no hope of fitting in. My one appropriate outfit was not cool, most women wear jeans and a hip length fitted coat with a loose headscarf. I just looked like a dirty backpacker with a scarf I found. ..that’s actually exactly what I did.

I handed my boarding pass over but was asked to wait aside where eventually after phone calls and discussions amongst themselves a guy was sent over to tell me that I couldn’t fly without a visa. I was prepared. I pulled out a printed copy of an email from the NZ Iranian consulate confirming the VOA situation and a page from their website which explains the visa rules.

No visa, no plane he said.

I explained my friend was already there and she got a visa on the border, I smiled nicely and tried not to stress out too much. He made another phone call. Then handed me my boarding pass. Success.

I hadn’t heard amazing things about Iran Air, later confirmed when an Iranian  told me they have regular crashes- but only with domestic flights she assured me. The plane was straight out of the 70’s. The overhead lockers had insulation coming through the broken insides. I was seat 15F. I counted the rows 12, 13,14, 16…..hmmmm no 15. After a bit of confusion and a lot of Farsi being yelled I was shown to a new seat. I thought I should pay attention to the safety briefing for once but quickly fell into a slightly delusion sleep which I think I was talking to the guy next to me. It was all good though and touched down into ‘Axis of Evil’ country number 2. My visa was surprisingly straightforward, just required patience while a power tripping official behind a glass window processed my visa then made me wait (with my passport ready sitting next to him) until he processed a big group of people from Oman. But stamped through, Shiraz, Iran!

Alice had made it through a few hours earlier and was waiting at the gate, we got out taxi into town down some very thin winding roads to Niayesh hotel, a beautiful little hotel in the historic town center. I was exhausted, it was been 48 hours since I left NZ. My ankles were huge, my legs were red with heat rash and started to blister like sunburn, I was sweaty and desperately needed a shower. But…I was in Iran, our hotel was amazing and tomorrow we could start exploring.

Iran planning

Friday, February 26th, 2010

After tackling Russia in 2008, I don’t think any country could match the bureaucracy, inefficiency and non-tourist friendly levels the post communist country did. Therefore planning for Iran turns out to be not all that difficult. The key for me lies in my NZ passport, the passport that everyone likes given we are too small to piss anyone off and desperately need immigrants so let people come to our country which in turn allows us cheaper visa fee’s. So while the main issue for most people is the complicated and often failed attempt at obtaining a visa, I am relying on the fact that I can get a visa on arrival at the airport.

Fingers crossed of course. Enough experience with these types of countries has taught me to be slightly wary of such promises despite being made by the Iranian consulate in NZ. I do however have an email from them stating this and a downloaded document from the website confirming it, both of which I will take with me in case of any problems at the border. So with the visa issue aside I have my ticket booked to Dubai and now one onwards to Shiraz, a town in the southern part of Iran. Thankfully with with help of uppersia.com who helped me book a ticket with Iran airways, given that is was all written in Farsi making it slightly difficult to book. This website and the guy who runs it are ridiculously helpful and super friendly.

So visa sort of organised, plane ticket booked. I have a Middle East guide book from my last trip so generally that about as much organising as I do. Although I will attempt to book a train ticket to Istanbul before I go.

6 weeks to go. More importantly is trying to get myself organised to leave NZ hopefully indefinitely this time

On the road to Damascus

Friday, August 1st, 2008
Finally after confusion about actually getting there, we were heading north to Syria. One of the 'axis of evil countries' according to Bush and with strong travel warnings against going there on lots of countries state websites. However, from what ... [Continue reading this entry]

The Great Russian Visa Chase

Wednesday, June 11th, 2008
Well according to this $45 USD piece of paper I am now officially invited into Russia, in fact I even have a whole itineray and hotels booked- not that I will ever stay in them. The beaurcracy ... [Continue reading this entry]