ప్రచురించబడింది: 09.09.2018
After an eight-hour bus ride, I arrived in Tehran at six in the morning. I jumped into a taxi and had it take me to the hostel, which was centrally located and had a nice woman at the reception. The Heritage Hostel could have been anywhere in the world. It was very modern, young, and hip. And it had European sit-down toilets.
Barefoot backpackers wandered through the halls and slept on benches in the beautifully landscaped garden. Since check-in wasn't until 2 p.m., I passed the time with a few episodes of GZSZ and a nap before heading into the city to conquer breakfast. Unfortunately, the breakfast conquest was very unsuccessful. At the first breakfast café I found on maps, I would have had to pay 100,000 IR to get in, the second one didn't serve breakfast (but I had a great tea), and the third one no longer existed. So I postponed my plans and went to the money exchange street to get more bills.
On the money exchange street, a man in a floral shirt approached me right away. "Exchange money?" I exchanged 100 euros and got about 30 purple 500,000 rial bills in return. Keeping track of them was not easy. After the excitement, I really needed something to eat. My breakfast was cheese-mushroom-ham fries. I couldn't find anything else. After visiting a small shopping street and buying the first headscarves for the next few weeks, it was time to check in.
I wanted to pick up my travel partner and friend Siiri from the airport in the evening. I inquired about the possibility of public transportation and learned that the airport train runs every 80 minutes, but no one knows the exact times. I gambled and hoped that I wouldn't have to wait more than 20 minutes for the train. When I arrived at the station after several detours and wrong turns, I wondered where the platform was. When I asked, three Iranians shook their heads, the train no longer runs at that time, but there is a minibus that can take me to the airport. After a 90-minute journey to the airport, I arrived on time and waited anxiously behind the glass wall. After a while, I spotted Siiri's blonde hair and colorful blouse. We squealed and hugged each other. That's how you meet again in Iran - cool!
We tried to figure out if we could come back with public transportation, but soon gave up and took a taxi.
The next day, we had the usual first-day tasks to take care of: exchanging money, getting a SIM card, buying a thin coat. In Iran, the bottom must be covered. That's why the coat business is booming. It doesn't really matter what you wear, even how much cleavage shows between the top and the headscarf, as long as something hangs over your bottom. In the crowded and hectic bazaar, we headed to the first or second store and bought ourselves thin coats that would look good on the streets of Germany as well.
Next to the bazaar is the Golestan Palace, a realm of wealth. We visited it and paid quite a bit for admission. The grounds were truly impressive. Full of paintings, glass mosaics, park alleys, and kitsch. We took a few selfies in this princess setting. An Iranian man noticed us and approached us. Where we came from, if we found the palace as beautiful as he did, how we liked Iran, if we could take a photo together. Sure, why not. I put on my photo smile, but the man wasn't satisfied yet. He asked if we would go to the garden with him for the backdrop. Siiri and I foolishly followed him and were led into the depths of the palace garden in front of a bush that was not at all picturesque. He wanted to take a selfie with each of us on his phone. He asked if we could take off our headscarves for it, which we declined. The situation became a bit strange. However, he had no objections and also took a picture of us with the headscarves. It was 2 cm too close for my taste, but nothing else happened and we made our escape.
The next destination was the Artist Garden. We had read that there is a vegetarian restaurant here and that Tehran's artistic youth meets here. Sounded good. It was good. Satisfied and happy, we sat in the restaurant for quite a while and took some hummus with us for breakfast. While I had already had enough input for the day, Siiri wished for some entertainment for her first evening. So we chose a bar that was relatively close to our hostel. In the Diamond Bar, we were greeted by a modern young woman with bright red hair that stood out under the casual scarf on the back of her head. The bar was just as good as bars in other big cities. There was a large selection of cocktails, snacks, music, and a few board games. Despite my tiredness, I was glad to have come along. We had a really relaxed evening and felt young and fresh. On the way back, Siiri's tooth started to hurt. She suspected something evil under one of her fillings and we turned to the hostel reception with the question of an Iranian dentist.
The next morning, she was already on her way on the back of the receptionist's motorcycle to the dental clinic. I passed the morning by exchanging money again with an extremely nice and honest man and welcomed my relieved, pain-free friend back. Now we were ready for the next stop. We were going to Kashan to visit the desert. We had booked a nice hostel and were excited for our first adventure outside the city.