So finally, finally, finally, after all this time, we were on the road again, the Caboose and I. We took a sort of highway out of Mashhad:
Then it turned into a country highway in the outskirts:
I took a lunch break next to a waterpark:
And then I ran into this guy:
Poor dude was sweating more than I was:
For some reason there were a lot of cyclists on the road today:
I counted at least fifty.
When it got dark, I started looking for a place to stay. I figured a mosque would be a good place to start. I had made a pact with myself to take the whole walking thing easy at first and grow into it.
I’m often reminded of Batman when I see these black shapes on the road:
Anyway, I went to this little village and found the mosque, but there was nobody there. A shopkeeper told me I wouldn’t be able to sleep there. So I shook the dust off my feet and left:
The Caboose enjoyed the narrow village alleys, though:
They reminded her of Bukhara
I eventually ended up running into this gentleman:
Reza, a Iranian Canadian motorbike enthusiast, helped set me up at a local wedding parlour, where I would spend the night with a crew of construction workers. This was going to be my corner:
It was at the end of a long, empty hall:
I hung out there for a little while, but then I got bored and went outside to the entry of the wedding parlour:
There was a wedding party going on, and they immediately took me in as a guest:
I took a photo with a bunch of guys whom I internally referred to as the “beard crew”:
I danced a little with the others:
And then the groom came in:
When the wedding party was over, I had not seen a woman. It had been an all-male thing in this part of the wedding parlour. The women were in another section. The dancing had been great, though.
I went back to my night-quarters. The workers were already there:
Their names were Hassan, Hussein, and Mohammed. And they had made tea.
Video of the day:
And here’s a 360 degree video from the road:
Not a bad first day after five months.