Crossing From Iran to Armenia in a shiny suit! I remember reaching the border after a day in the piping heat of the Iranian desert. We had arrived as the sun had gone down, but we were still sweating like pigs. Armenia had only just implemented their online visa scheme. Alas for whatever reason they could not find us in the system.
We found ourselves as three grown men, stuck in no man’s land between the Islamic Republic of Iran and Armenia. We were wearing shiny suits and I even had a bright pink Hanna Montana bag.
There are times in my life I truly wonder how the heck I get into these situations.
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How did you end up in a shiny suit in Iran?
It was now almost 9 years ago since we were running our second trip to Iran. YPT of course had started off going to North Korea, Tibet ended up a natural next place, but it was Iran that was to prove one of the best fits for us.
Our first Iran tour had been OK, but it was not only the second time that we try found our groove, as well as our new partners.
Two of my friends had joined the trip and we therefore made a plan that we would continue after the trip onto Armenia, Nagorno-Karabakh and Georgia, before I would fly to Kiev to do a tour. Yep I truly miss those rock and roll days.
The Iran went extremely successfully, which led us to our last night in Tehran….
It turns out you can drink in Iran!
Can you drink in Iran? You can! Iran allow their Armenian minority to brew make and consume their own alcohol. We therefore booked the last night at the Armenian club.
Earlier on in the trip, my colleague had suggested we buy shiny suits. I said yes. Yes is my default answer to everything. I had though not expected it to come to pass.
Turns out they have a lot of shiny suits in Iran. You could say it’s their thing, so that is where I found myself on my last day here, getting fitted for a shiny suit.
And thus we headed out to party in Tehran, truly dressed for the occasion. The night was good. Fun was had, new friends were made and we woke up with hangovers.
The journey to Tehran – with our suits
Being a Brit, a Canadian and a yank we were not trusted to travel around Tehran by ourselves, so our guide was to join us up to the border. We thus set off in the blistering heat for a massive bus journey to the north of the country. There were a few food and drink stops, but I mainly remember thinking just how silly I felt in this suit holding a Hanna Montana bag.
We arrived at the border post of Meghri as the sun had set. We were taking advantage of the new visa scheme that had literally only just been introduced, basically e-visa/visa on arrival.
Thankfully Marko spoke Russian and as these armed burly men looked at us in disgust we were informed we had to wait as our names were not on the system. He quickly befriended them as we spent the next few hours waiting for them to “find us”.
Was it a bribe situation? Who knows, but eventually we were told they would let us through.
Entering Armenia
Overjoyed at finally being let through we were high giving the Armenian guards as went through. One of them looked perplexed as were about to leave and shouted: “WAIT”. We stopped, was there to be more trouble? Had us being let through been a mistake, no. The following conversation in Russian was to happen.
“I have to ask man, what about the suits”?
To which Marko replied deadpan
“My retarded cousin just got married” – as he gestured to me.
“oh OK”. Replied the guard as we sauntered out of the building.
As soon as we were out all you could see were strip-joints, liquor stores and bars. We were definitely no longer in the Islamic Republic of Iran.
And that’s Crossing From Iran to Armenia in a shiny suit. If you are gonna do anything, do it with some panache.
