After an extensive breakfast from the buffet, we had to find out again that the rest of the European women present in the hostel were all in a bad mood, just like the day before. We never found out why. At least with a Swiss, who explored Iran with his girlfriend by bicycle, we got into conversation. We said goodbye to him and the journey continued.

Today’s destination: the Choghakhor Lagoon. We had to step on the gas a bit because the lagoon was 5.5h away. On the way we did not miss anything today. First we were stopped by the police, who ignored us for 5 minutes at first. Finally one of the policemen came to us, leaned into the car through the passenger window and asked where we were coming from. When we told him that we were from Germany, he gesticulated wildly and instructed us to drive on.

Melanie needed a coffee. While Andreas remained sitting in the car, he made a discovery and called after Melanie several times. As usual, she ignored his calls. Melanie strolled through the store of the gas station and was surprised that she was stared at by the salesman and a few other gentlemen. After what felt like 3 minutes, she was finally able to pay. Back at Andreas in the car, he informed Melanie that her pants had slipped and her underwear and a little more had been visible. Melanie was embarrassed and now understood the looks of the gentlemen. The outside decoration of the gas station was also interesting – a mechanical figure that reminded us of Maria was rocking a pig, the usual figures were of similar caliber and so we were already thinking about possible coming nightmares.

In the middle of the rest of the journey, Melanie suddenly rolled to the right-hand side of the road. What had happened? While driving uphill, the gearshift suddenly stopped working. Actually, this had been foreseeable, since the gears were already difficult to shift since the first day and the permanently lit transmission warning light all the time. To our luck the dilemma happened at a place where we had at least one bar of reception and thus an internet connection. Before that hill and for the next 20km, neither of us had even the slightest reception. After we wrote to the car rental company, they took care of the “Iranian ADAC”. After about 1.5 hours, two friendly gentlemen came to our rescue. Both did not speak a word of English and so we communicated again with hands and feet. They knew immediately where the problem was, changed the gear shift linkage on the spot and so the car was repaired within 10 minutes. That’s the kind of thing you wish for in Germany. After a short discussion about the warranty and a short Whatsapp phone call with the car rental company, this service was free of charge for us. The two men still wanted to take pictures with us and then we quickly went on to the lagoon.

At the lagoon we met some locals. One man wanted to invite us to his home for a tea and a snack. Unfortunately, we had to decline because we had to drop off the car the next morning and we still had at least 2 hours of driving ahead of us.

Around 20:30 we reached Isfahan. Fortunately, the traffic was not as bad as in Shiraz. Unfortunately, there were no parking spaces available at the hostel and so Mel had to park backwards at the roadside of the busy street. With a lot of complaining, however, she eventually parked cleanly, in the first attempt.

Starved, we went in search of a restaurant. The few possibilities that we found via Google Maps and co. were closed. On the way we were still addressed by an Iranian who knew German. For business reasons and pandemic boredom he had started to learn German – with considerable success. He invited us for the next day in his carpet store on a tea.

We had already given up believing in today’s food intake, when we noticed a small corner restaurant right next to the hostel. So we could still take super tasty kebab to us and refuel new forces. Out of ignorance about the drink size or because of a small misunderstanding Andreas ordered for himself a 1.5 liter bottle of cola. The employee just smiled and sat down next to us for a little chat. Among other things, the usual questions came: Where are you from? Are you married? Do you have children?

Back at the hostel, Mel made himself another coffee. With the other tourists we came only briefly into conversation, because we were dead tired despite the potential nightmares and mentally already in bed.