I did not get much sleep in the train to Tehran, so I arrived back in that huge city early in the morning, dragged wolter in his box across the train station in search for a spot to lie the ticket offices open.
It was a bit of a hassle to get the ticket. I could not just walk to a counter and buy it, first I had to wait through the queue for the waiting list, which took over an hour, then I had to wait another hour until they sold the canceled seats for my destination. But people saw me lost and offered help, then they would keep an eye on me to make sure I got the queue once called out. It was very different from what I am used to, but even though it first appeared chaotic to me it seemed that it this 'ritual' follows strict rules.
Once I got my ticket I had no money left and another two hours to kill. At twelve I boarded the train after I was close to get in trouble because of my big carton wrapped around the disassembled wolter. But after the manager gave his ok for bicycles I got my seat just in time.
it was weird seeing a desert the first time in my life through the window of the express train. Seasonal rivers (wadi) left hints of green traces in that enormous gravel/sand plane, which was as flat as a tarmac.
The train was comfortable and the three men who shared the spacious compartment were very friendly. Everyone would share his food with the others, so that in the end we had a rich table with fruit sandwiches coffee and sweets.
It was a bit of a hassle to get the ticket. I could not just walk to a counter and buy it, first I had to wait through the queue for the waiting list, which took over an hour, then I had to wait another hour until they sold the canceled seats for my destination. But people saw me lost and offered help, then they would keep an eye on me to make sure I got the queue once called out. It was very different from what I am used to, but even though it first appeared chaotic to me it seemed that it this 'ritual' follows strict rules.
Once I got my ticket I had no money left and another two hours to kill. At twelve I boarded the train after I was close to get in trouble because of my big carton wrapped around the disassembled wolter. But after the manager gave his ok for bicycles I got my seat just in time.
it was weird seeing a desert the first time in my life through the window of the express train. Seasonal rivers (wadi) left hints of green traces in that enormous gravel/sand plane, which was as flat as a tarmac.
The train was comfortable and the three men who shared the spacious compartment were very friendly. Everyone would share his food with the others, so that in the end we had a rich table with fruit sandwiches coffee and sweets.
