High time for an update I think. I am pretty stoked to say I arrived in Yasuj on Thursday evening after a long day’s walk. Eight days from Esfahan and I had made it. Yeesh! What a mission! The Zagros Mountains are a formidable lot, I can tell you. So much has happened that it is difficult and far too long to give a complete breakdown of the journey but I will pick out some moments that come to mind.

Happy to finally leave Esfahan and continue south I made solid and steady progress. As I have mentioned before, unless I take a shorter route or discover a shortcut I am not rewarded with pleasant surprises at the end of a days toil. 4km/hour is my average, sometimes I max out at 5km/hour. Mad eh? What a rush!

Some reasonably easy walking greeted me on my first day out of Esfahan. I met so many interested and smiling people that my mind can not even recall them all. After a great deal of faffing about in one village where I was paraded around by some young guys and driven here and there on the back of their scooters, I fianally managed to extricate myself from their clutches. My plans for an early camp were crushed after a promise of shelter for the evening turned to nothing. I had to make a 2 hour march on New Years Eve to clear a huge military camp before I could even consider a campsite. Fortunately the barbed wire ended and the mountains rewarded me with a spot overlooking Moborekeh (you know, this may not even be the right spelling but it sounds right and when signs 100m apart have a different English translation I am sure you can forgive me!). A chilly night and I was crashed out by 10pm, a late one for me. No bother staying up for the fireworks. Wait, different calender in Iran. Business as usual.

I spent the next couple of days shuffling into Borujen where I had a fantastic time with a couple of great people. Climbed a mountain, drank a hell of a lot of tea, ate far too much and laughed so much my sides hurt. The friends I made on this stretch were fantastic. Getting so woried when my Irancell phone lost reception for a few days through the mountains. Random strangers inviting me for kebabs cooked over the fire next to an old abandoned brick shelter in the mountains, snow as far as the eye can see and the biggest blue skies I have ever seen. Magic!

From Borujen, I entered the Zagros Mountains proper. Surprisingly after the first day and a half the endless snow cover diminished and only the peaks were covered above perhaps 2800m. Below this patches here and there but otherwise a rocky, barren landscape with an ocassional bush here and there. Endless ascent and descent took it’s toll on my body. After almost 50 days of walking with a heavy pack I would like to think that I have adapted somewhat but it is still tough going. I notice on any rest days (such as here in Yasuj) that my body knows it can finally give in and the aches, pains and stiffness sets in. Out on the trail this seems stay away and general fatigue is the only worry.

After 4 or 5 days I reached a turn in the road. One route heading to Lordegan and the other to Yasuj. Good to see. So much stopping to chat and so many offers of tea and food really start to slow me down. I can only accept half these offers as it has only been an hour or so before my last helping of fruit or chai. I spend the night in the village of Javanmardy in the local sports hall. I walked into this small place like I was on the set of a wild west movie. I felt like the new gunslinger in town with the main street lined with people who had just stoppped what they were doing and stared. All male and many a rough looking head amongst them. Talk about maintaining my composure. Ha! Once again, looks can be deceiving. Quick as, a group of 20-something chaps called me over to their shop. After a short investigation mobile phones were whipped out and I was soon dragged to off up the street to meet Hassan. He looks after the sports stadion. Within 20mins I was chilling in my own room complete with chai, biscuits, fruit, a heater and gym mat and blankets for my bed. Bloody heck! Talk about hospitality. That night I met Ali, the local sports teacher who happened to be Hassan’s brother-in-law and also had a hand in running the centre. Hassan’s father made dinner for the 3 of us and we chatted into the night as the local youths played football in the hall. The only downside is that the place is open till 3am! I can tell you these guys played right up until the last second! Football mad!

Leaving the boys after a breakfast provided by Ali’s wife I continued on towards Yasuj. I was now weaving through a wide and flat valley floor surrounded by snow-capped peaks. After another day this all changed. Back into the hills (or mountains rather!). I passed the village of Malkhalefeh and camped high above it and surrounding smaller villages. A spectacular scene and perfect though cold site. Drifting off to sleep I wondered about the tigers (?????) and thieves people had warned me about in the area. I awoke the following morning with my limbs intact and all my gear still with me. Phew! I made for a pass through the mountains. Bugger, my first tunnel! I could see light at it’s end (literally!). I chanced it. Through I went. As 125cc scooter motored through they sounded like one of the Hell’s Angels were on my tail. Imagine a petrol tanker pounding through? I made it through safely and had a bit of a laugh. Bit scary but not so bad. Ha! Little did I know that I would spend the rest of the day running the gauntlet through 8 more as I descended! Doh! Not the best for the ol’ lungs or life. A random and strange, though friendly pick-up by a police Mercedes saw me go from 1500m on the valley floor to 2200m back into the mountains, many kilometres away from my planned route. I was not sure where they had taken me, but again after some curious moments being driven around in the back of a Paykan (classic Iranian car) I ende up in Mr. Asri’s house. The police officer had phoned a friend who had phoned a friend and so on until a suitable host had been found. Asri was it. His father is a bit of a local mountain legen and apparently a bit of a crack hunter. A straight forward bloke he had absolutely no time for tarof which made things a lot more comfortable. Another cozy night and a chance to meet some wonderful folks.

My final walk into Yasuj was a hot and tiring day that began at 7am and finished at 6am. The final 5km saw me pass through the outer suburbs of the town and now I know what the animals at London Zoo feel like. Jeez! I suppose I do look a bit odd with my fancy Rab clothes, sunnies and what would appear to be ski poles but come on, give a man a break! No harm done I suppose but it was a long day.

Happy to say that once again thanks to the help of the Ministry for Culture, Handicrafts and Tourism tomorrow I should be able to pick up my passport with a 3rd and final 30 day visa extension tucked inside. More than enough (I hope!) to get me to Bushehr. Depending on when I get sorted I will probably push off tomorrow as well. My final stretch. I am trying hard not to underestimate this final walk. True, I am getting there but it is not over yet. More people to meet, more road to tread. I am pretty exhausted physically and mentally. Trying to take in everything on a cultural level as well as clocking (or at least trying to) 40km days takes it’s toll.

I hope I can put up another post en-route to Bushehr, otherwise you will here from me then. My Irancell SIM is a bit shaky in these mountains so do not fear too much for me. Probably, I am kicking back on a carpet somewhere eating yet more fresh oranges and drinking chai.