Back to Baku(Azerbaijan), and on to Iran(Entering Iran by Land)

 

A rural scene showing an abandoned or overgrown field with tall grass and weeds. (on the way to Astara)

The journey from Baku to Astara was incredibly peaceful. 

Outside, beyond the car window, it was extremely hot, and when I opened the window, a wave of hot air rushed in. If the heat in India felt like drinking hot, humid steam, the heat here felt like your mouth would crack with every breath. 

Despite this heat, the fields were lush and green, and cows grazing would occasionally lift their heads to briefly stare at passing vehicles. I had taken an early morning bus from Baku to Lankaran, and from there, I was on my way to Astara, where the Iran-Azerbaijan border is located, by taxi. 

Everything seemed to be going smoothly as I gazed at the peaceful fields, reminiscing about childhood summer vacation journeys to my grandfather's house at the edge of Gangwon Province. 

However, travel always comes with unexpected variables.

Mirages began to appear on the highway in the hot weather

Curiously shaped white snails

Ahead on the road, mirages stretched endlessly time and again. I wondered if travelers and merchants passing through this place long ago also saw these illusions of water under the scorching weather. 

The snails living here had shells bleached white, as if even their colors had been scorched away. They seemed like ammonite fossils, suspended in time, surrendering their bodies to the wind-swayed grass while waiting for rain that might never come. 

 The reason I was taking these snail photos was because our car had broken down. Just after passing a sign announcing our imminent arrival at Astara, the car began to slow down, and the interior grew quiet. 

Though the wheels continued to roll silently, both the driver and I sensed instinctively that the car would soon stop. And then, in the hot weather, it fell into a deep slumber.

Car's engine has broken during the trip😟

I leisurely touched the grass, took photos, and smoked, but not bringing separate water while having to carry a lot of luggage turned out to be the problem. 

After waiting about 30 minutes, I became thirsty and felt uneasy smoking, so I just sat down on the asphalt road. 

The driver called his friend and said it would probably take a bit more time.  Occasionally, other drivers came by and seemed to try to help, but perhaps the situation was beyond help, as they soon left. 

Fortunately, a man driving a truck agreed to give me a ride and seemed to be heading to Astara with my luggage when... 

 'Get off.'  

'Here? (Still on the highway)'  

'Yes, wait here and catch another vehicle.'  

'What kind of vehicle...?'

 'Marshrutka'

 Marshurtka (google search image) 

 

When traveling through former Communist countries, you can often see vans called marshrutkas, which are a type of bus. 

The fare is much cheaper than taxi rates, and you can get off at your desired destination while riding. 

At the fork in the road leading from the highway to the national road, I was standing with my luggage under the blazing sun with the truck driver when, sure enough, marshrutkas began to appear.  

The truck driver seemed to be roughly telling the marshrutka driver that this Chinese person(i'm korean lol) wants to go to Astara, so please take care of him, and the marshrutka driver pointed to a seat with his thumb, indicating me to get in the vehicle.

Finaly! Arrived at Astara

Taking up space for three people - myself, my checked luggage, and my carry-on - I was at a loss, hugging my suitcase that rolled along with the wheels every time the driver turned the steering wheel. 

A passenger tried to offer me their seat, but I said it was fine since I couldn't put down my luggage. Even amidst this situation, I was fascinated by the passing cows and picked up my camera to take photos and videos. 

On the way, a huge truck coming from the opposite direction suddenly turned its steering wheel and veered onto a side road, and the haystacks loaded on the truck fell onto the marshrutka. 

Despite this mishap, people merely cursed and sighed without making a big deal of it. Fortunately, it wasn't rocks. 

The driver and passengers headed back to their destination as if nothing had happened. Since this was my last journey in Azerbaijan, I handed all the coins in my pocket to the driver with a thumbs-up and words of thanks before getting off.

This is the final stop of Marshrutka

As soon as I got off the marshrutka, a local farmer approached me. When I told him I was crossing over to Iran, he shrugged his shoulders and asked me to follow him, guiding me to the border checkpoint. 

 After the diplomatic mission terror incident, relations between Iran and Azerbaijan had rapidly cooled, and I had heard that they had restricted land border crossings between the two countries. 

However, I had found a review from a foreign traveler who had passed through there, and thinking that I could also pass as a foreigner, I gave it a try. It seemed like a failure at first since there was absolutely no one there, but fortunately, I was able to cross the border.

Border of Astara of Azerbaijan

Seeing cigarette butts in a light blue trash can, I was smoking when shortly after, a checkpoint soldier opened the door for me. 

After a simple luggage check and interview, he said 'goodbye' and pointed to the departure gate. 

Suddenly, I remembered what an employee at the Iranian embassy had advised me: 

'Mr. Min, when you go to Iran, please refrain from political or religious statements and always be careful.' 

Before entering the Iranian border, the internet was already disconnected, but I deleted all conversations I had with my Iranian friends and headed to the interview room after a second luggage inspection. 

A female employee wearing a black hijab opened all my suitcases and bags, touching and checking each item one by one. 

I was nervous as she questioned every suspicious item, but fortunately, nothing unusual happened. 

In the interview room, I was flustered when they asked for everything from my father's name to even what Iranian friends I had, what conversations I had with them, and asked to see the content of those conversations. 

The atmosphere suggested they wouldn't let me through if I didn't show the conversations, so I reluctantly opened a KakaoTalk messenger chat window to show them. 

I'm pretty sure I heard he say 'what the f***'... The employee muttered something and frowned slightly. 

There were probably several photos taken without hijabs in the conversation, which seemed to be the issue. 

The employee said: 

'Mr. Min, welcome to Iran. However, please promise to refrain from making statements that could cause political or religious problems here.' 

'Of course, I promise.' 

As soon as I left the border checkpoint, I saw Persian language signs and old vehicles began to appear, making my heart swell with excitement. 

I didn't think it would work, but I did it... Actually, many people had opposed my coming here. 

And I myself thought it wouldn't work well. Anyway, I had successfully entered by land, and a new journey had begun.

In this place, where even international credit cards cannot be used and the internet is strictly censored, there is truly no place more isolated. 

Seeing photos of the Supreme Leader hanging everywhere alongside Persian script, I briefly felt like I was reminded of North Korea, giving me the feeling that I had come to a truly foreign world. 

 Until then, I didn't know. That this country I was visiting would give me the most beautiful and heart-stirring memories among all the places I had traveled in the past 10 years...

 Historical portraits in decorative frames mounted on a stone wall with traditional artifacts displayed below.

Last dinner with Azerbaijani friends😢

 The day before departing for Iran, I had a final dinner with my friend in Baku. My friend specially invited me to a place called 'Caravanserai.' 

According to Wikipedia, it was accommodation established for merchants and travelers on the Silk Road trade routes to stay safely, and merchants would stay there while exchanging information about trade with each other.

(Photo source: Google http://www.peraair.com/caravanserais-of-cappadocia) 

 Although the place I was invited to wasn't an actual caravanserai, but rather a restaurant that gave that atmosphere, it was quite a traditional place. 

Both the food and atmosphere seemed to have been carefully crafted to create the feeling of that time, and the performance that began in the evening was satisfying. 

 'Min, long ago, merchants and travelers passing through this place used to stay at caravanserais. I invited you here so you could feel what it was like to be one of them, even if just for a moment. I'm sorry our meeting was so brief, but come back anytime. Travel always leaves you wanting a little more. And be careful in Iran.

Various Azerbaijan souvenirs including a traditional papakha hat, flag design, ornate tea glasses, and cultural items.

My journey in Azerbaijan had ended. At this moment as I write, all the faces of travelers at the hostel have already been forgotten, along with the very brief conversations and lingering thoughts at the bus terminal, and places I couldn't visit. 

Friends with whom I only exchanged letters without meeting – everything felt regretful. As the Azerbaijani person said, 

that's what travel seems to be like. A journey that completely fulfills the heart cannot exist, and the things you must leave behind with regret are also part of the travel process. 

On that day, with traces of regret and sadness still remaining, I crossed Azerbaijan's border, and simultaneously, the faint internet data connection from Azerbaijan was cut off. 'Traveler, welcome to the caravanserai' That's roughly what one of the songs I heard there said.

Listening to their songs, I felt like I had entered a tavern in Mount & Blade 2: Bannerlord. Or perhaps in a past life, I was a merchant walking the Silk Road, which is why that song occasionally continued to play in my head even after leaving Azerbaijan.

Here is some additional information and precautions: 

• There is a bus from Baku to Astara. As I remember, it was about 8~10 dollars or so(Baku's intercity bus terminal(?)I think it was probably the international bus terminal).
• As of 2024, the land border from Azerbaijan to Iran is open. However, to enter Iran by land, you must first go to the Iranian embassy and obtain a visa. Visa eligibility may vary depending on nationality, but generally, a visa is required. For Korean nationals, I have heard that you can apply for a visa on arrival when entering through Tehran Airport, but for land entry, you must obtain a visa in advance through the Iranian embassy. 
• Once you cross the border, the internet will be cut off, so please be sure to remember the location of the currency exchange beyond the border. When you enter Iran after crossing the border, money changers will approach you. They will offer you very poor exchange rates, so ignore them and find the currency exchange building. They were very reliable