Week 8 – Omicron, oh Omicron
Georgia – Turkey (Kars – Van)
We set off towards Turkey, because we wanted to spend New Year in Kars, a medium-sized city in eastern Turkey. On the way we drove through Gori, the town Joseph Stalin came from. Five minutes' drive away is the ancient town of Uplistsikhe, a place around 4,000 years old where you can still make out the buildings carved into the rock. There we met a New Zealander who's studying winemaking in the Rheingau and had come to the region because of its special wine.
We made our way leisurely towards the Vale border crossing in southern Georgia, camping in the town of Borjomi, where the nights were bitterly cold again. Since the parking heater didn't run at night, our drinking water was usually frozen the next morning, so we first had to melt the ice.
Of course, the border crossing was once again closed to tourist traffic because of the Covid-19 pandemic, and we had to use the crossing we already knew on the Black Sea. There was a road leading directly there, but although it was marked as a country road it was only single-track and completely iced over. We later found out that even with four-wheel drive it would have been hard to drive, as there were many climbs that can only be tackled with mud tyres.
So we had to make the six-hour drive to get into Turkey before the border closed. It was New Year's Eve, after all, and we'd set ourselves the goal of seeing in the new year at the restaurant in front of which we'd spent our last night in Turkey. The border was supposed to close at 8 pm, but it didn't say according to which time, as there's an hour's difference between Turkey and Georgia. Because of traffic jams and driving snow, we only reached the border at 10 pm Georgian time. To our surprise it was still open and we could cross, so we arrived at the familiar restaurant at 9 pm and joined the New Year's Eve party with live Turkish music.
In the new year we carried on south-east, because despite the official travel ban we wanted to try to get into Iran. The ban was meant to slow the spread of the Omicron variant. On the way through the Turkish interior, the occasional checks by police and military increased, and so did the presence of artillery. From Kars onwards, the region is home to the Kurdish ethnic minority. Many of the people we met there speak Kurdish, Turkish and – because Iran is close – sometimes Farsi too. We never felt unsafe or threatened.
To cross the border into Iran we had to show a negative PCR test, which we got at the university hospital in Kars. The region we were travelling through was continental and about 1,600 m high, so it was quite cold – which would later come back to bite us. When we arrived in the evening, the town was full of smoke from coal stoves. Almost every house heats with this fossil fuel, which you could not only see but smell.
After a night in the town of Doğubayazıt, we tried the biggest – but also most chaotic – Iranian border crossing. There are lots of so-called fixers, people who want to help you with the paperwork and sell you insurance. We hoped to manage without this dubious help. But everything was very disorganised and nothing was signposted, as you have to go to different buildings to get your visa, passport and carnet de passages stamped. After a while, despite the help of one of these fixers and a conversation with an Iranian official, we were turned away.
The next day we wanted to try the border 150 km further south, since the PCR test was still valid. But the plan to make a second attempt the next morning came to nothing.
We spent the -20 °C night near a school. The bus started badly and once again got hot quite quickly. On the way it soon became clear that it was probably the radiator again – I hadn't put enough antifreeze in. On the way towards the centre of the town of Özalp we had to stop several times because the coolant temperature was too high. An armoured police patrol car stopped and the two officers asked us what the problem was. They had actually been on their way to the school, because we'd been parked there illegally 😀
After we explained that we were from Germany and wanted to get to Iran, they kindly escorted us to a garage, as I only wanted to drive very slowly so as not to strain the engine unnecessarily (you can see it in the video below at 1:17). At the garage the radiator was removed, as I suspected it hadn't survived this latest ordeal unscathed. Luckily that wasn't the case. Once the radiator had thawed out in front of the workshop stove, the now loose ice could be removed, and the crushed-ice-like slush in the hoses was cleared too. With everything refilled with proper coolant, the problem shouldn't happen again.
Once again people were very friendly and open. Of course we were paying customers, but that didn't seem to be the only reason for their openness. We ate with the mechanics and helped them a bit, and afterwards the police officer, who spoke a little English, helped us negotiate the price.
Then we drove to the border, which was smaller and tidier. Unfortunately we were disappointed here too and couldn't cross. We made these almost hopeless attempts because we'd heard of tourists who'd got into the country despite the travel ban.
Next we rolled on to Van, a city on Lake Van, the largest soda lake in the world. We spent two nights right by the water and one day in the city. On Saturday the Iranian travel ban was supposed to be lifted or extended, so we'll stay near the Iranian border. Over the next few days we want to visit a small ski area nearby and maybe sleep in a heated house again.
Unfortunately, everything is still uncertain …