The clear view of Ararat was replaced by cloud & rain. Fortunately it cleared up pretty quickly. The Sun was out by the time I'd cycled up to the Ishak Pasa Seraji, an palace built by the Kurdish lord of the region in the 16th century. Its position was something else, on a protruding rock on a steep hill above the wide plain on which Dogubayazit sat, with Ararat across the valley. Unfortunately being Monday it was closed so I had to satisfy myself with looking at it from the outside.
From there I made a beeline to the border. The road to it ran along a very wide valley with Ararat on one side & other mountains on the other. A wind blew from where I was going. It was a long 35km to Iran.
With the border in sight I had my first significant dog incident. As has happened on countless times over the last 5 weeks a pack of dogs spotted me & sprinted at me on an intercept course. I was getting quite used to this. My technique was to continue at the same pace & in the same direction unless I was sure I could outrun them, which usually wasn't possible. This time one of the dogs took a liking to one of my front panniers, grabbing onto it with his teeth. The effect was to unbalance the bike & send me onto the road. I rolled & hit the deck right on my head. It wasn't a hard fall as I wasn't going fast. I didn't get hurt other than a couple of scratches. This wouldn't have been the case if I hadn't been wearing the helmet, which partially split. I'll need to get a new helmet at the next opportunity, rather that than a new head. I was also lucky that there was no passing truck as I fell right in the middle of the lane. After a quick inspection of self & bike & a couple of rocks heaved at the villainous dogs I continued.
The Iranian border was easy to get through. Other than having to wait for 20 minutes while my passport was inspected I sailed through. The customs officials had clearly not had to deal with many cyclists as one asked where my license plate was & another for my 'carnet' another car-type document.
The border was at a low pass. On the Iranian side the valley was much more enclosed & became a gorge as I arrived at Maku where I stayed the night.
The feeling of an Iranian town was quite different from that of Turkey, only 50km away. Though the older buildings were similar, stone & mudbrick with flat earth roofs, the more modern ones used ceramic brick almost exclusively. The effect was a much more attractive modern town than the equivalent Turkish concrete one. Many of the buildings had a feeling of Art Deco.
There was an interesting mix of racial types, by the look of the peoples faces. There were those who looked similar to Turks (or perhaps Kurds) on the other side of the border. There were also faces that could have been European. Of course all women covered their heads as required by law. For some this meant head to foot in black, but there was much variation & host looked quite feminine. I didn't see any women in burkhas.
It was odd not being able to read the arabic script that was mostly used for the shop signs. Some places were completely mysterious.
The people were friendly, though clearly not used to European foreigners. I saw no other identifiabl travellers while walking around town. While I felt that the Turks were more friendly I enjoyed not being constantly asked for my name. It was nice to wander unhassled.
I cycled 69km in 4 hours & 57 minutes
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