Days: 562-563 (8 January 2016 – 9 January 2016)

Total distance travelled: 141,712.1 kilometres (88,019.94 miles)

Think mountains, think hashish and like me, you’re probably starting to already think of Afghanistan.

You’d be wrong, but that’s nothing to get all hung up about, as we’re going back in time, back around nine hundred years.

High in the mountains of what is today North-Western Iran, sits the Alamut Valley and here, perched atop a high rocky crag with commanding views of the surrounding terrain, sits Alamut Castle.

This was the birthplace and home of the fabled Assassins, feared by both Muslims and Christians alike, founded by Hassan-e Sabbah, whose biggest mistake was to piss off the invading Mongols in the middle of the thirteenth century.

Within two and a half decades, their power was gone and today, all scholars can really do, is theorise as to the true origins of their name.

Local Iranians we’d spoken to claim the Assassins plied their trade high as kites on hashish, whilst the few internet searches we’d managed behind the mud brick curtain that is Iranian internet (mainly in Wikipedia), suggests that the context in which Ḥashshāshīn is applied to them (as opposed to its literal meaning which is ‘users of hashish’) is derogatory and actually meant outcasts, or enemies.

Another suggestion was that Ḥashshāshīn is completely incorrect, but rather Hassan-e Sabbah labelled his followers as Asasiyun (people who were faithful to his faith).

It was unlikely that two lowly Australians would unravel the mystery, but regardless, we were eager to check it out.

Arriving in Qazvin well after sunset and with the heavens open wasn’t the perfect start we’d envisaged…

Standing in our flip flops in glue like mud, driving rain and discovering that we were actually on the side of a busy highway as opposed to a bus terminal like we’d expected, we were by now pretty pissed off (annoyed).

A narrow pedestrian overpass provided minimal shelter, but as so often happens in Iran, every passing vehicle is a taxi (signed or not, they all seem out to make a few extra Rials) and before long we were being whisked away towards our hotel… although we didn’t actually have a hotel yet, just the name of a possible one!

Given how far he actually took us, what began feeling like an overpriced ride, turned out to be pretty reasonable, and in the circumstances it wasn’t really like we had another option. We were very soon in the lobby of Iran Hotel haggling over our next price, that of a room.

Turns out our host was actually from a mountain village not far from where we wished to go, and he was soon trying to sign us up for a night at his parent’s farmhouse as well as some mountain trekking.

We weren’t equipped for an adventure in the snow-capped mountains, but he was able to arrange a driver for us at a price we were okay with, and within minutes of settling in to our room, our excursion to see the lands of the Assassins had been sorted.

Dinner on the other hand, that felt like a much more difficult assignment given both the weather and the fact that it was a Friday (being the Muslim weekend, many businesses are closed).

Still, some ridiculously cheap meat skewers did the job and saw us through until the morning.

By then the rains had ceased, although the skies remained a menacing grey, perhaps fitting given where we were headed for this particular outing.

We weren’t long out of Qazvin when we hit our first showers and as we slowly climbed into the mountains, it became a light sprinkle of snow.

Our hearts sinking, we thought what the fuck have we signed up for? We won’t be able to see a bloody thing!

But by now in the hands of our non-English speaking driver (his range extended as far as “Mr”, “Very good/bad” and “finished”) who had a penchant to both talk and sing to himself, there was little we could do but hope for the best.

Speaking Farsi in an accent that was almost Germanic, I’d be lying if I said that a description of him as a “German speaking Jawa” (Star Wars reference for anybody who didn’t get the Jawa bit) hadn’t come to mind.

It’s very likely that some of his singing/chanting was also in fact prayer, so we could hope for a little support from Allah when push came to shove with the weather… surely our own lack of piety wouldn’t be a sticking point..?

After first climbing up, then cruising our way down some really shitty roads, a left turn had us heading past the town Razmian for our first stop of the day.

This was Lambasar Castle (it pops up on google maps as Lambsar), from what I’ve been able to read, the largest of the fortified positions occupied by the Assassins, but from where our car had stopped (we’d driven onwards past the actual car-park and were now just on the side of the road), not at all visible.

The rain was at least absent, visibility was fairly clear and our driver was anxiously waving for us to follow a narrow trail along the mountainside to reach our destination (he would remain with the car of course).

It was a pretty amazing walk…

With little idea how long would be a reasonable time to leave our man waiting, we set off trying hard to focus on the narrow trail before us, but marvelling at both the stunning scenery and the incredible dark red, almost purple colour of the rock over which we walked.

Shortly or path merged with a set of stairs, the more strenuous path we now realise we’d avoided thanks to our drivers local knowledge and perhaps his lack of desire to make the ascent himself should he be forced to come and retrieve us.

Climbing higher, we eventually rounded a rocky knob which afforded us stunning views of the Shahrud Valley below, as well as our first look at Lambesar Castle itself.

Not a huge amount of the fortress actually remains, but it’s as much for the vista and an appreciation of what a remote location this would have been that really makes it worth a visit.

One could probably see even more on a much clearer day, but for where we were and for what the Assassins represent, I quite liked the weather being a touch on the forbidding side.

We clambered a little higher to check out some more of the views and what remained of the ruins before figuring we’d best return to our waiting vehicle.

By now it had begun to drizzle a little, but it certainly wasn’t enough to get us too worried, and after our reasonably rapid descent, we were surprised to find our driver had set up a little picnic on the back of his taxi!

Some cheese, bread and pickles all washed down by a warming tea, and we were back on our way (the drizzle had ceased during this time as well).

Down in the valley, it felt a little surreal passing by so many rice paddies (it’s something we usually associate with warmer climes) with their incredible snowy backdrop and after traversing some more of those poor mountain roads, we were making our second left turn of the day and headed for a nearby lake (Evan or Ovan Lake) of which our guidebook had a less than glowing opinion.

“With its powerful mountain backdrop, the tiny lake would be stunningly beautiful if it weren’t for nearby power lines and muddy car-washing spots.” – Lonely Planet, Iran

Not surprisingly, expectations were low, but not for the first time we found that such a review seemed a little harsh, especially when we considered some of the crap they give glowing praise!

It was just another of those moments that have contributed to our growing disappointment in our once trusted LP (Lonely Planet) guidebooks… pretty much since it began to lose traction for the BBC back in 2010.

We skipped a few rocks off the half frozen surface (a real novelty for us Australians where snow is rare, and most things frozen can be found in a freezer), admired the mountain backdrop, before getting back on our way.

After passing through the charmless town Mo’allem Kelayeh which was the scene of some well timed road reconstruction (this meant the entire place was a sea of glue like red mud) we made our final left turn of the day, leading us towards the town of Andej.

Our driver took great delight in repeating to us where we’d been after each stop, and exclaiming ‘Finished’ and the trend continued here as we were reminded that Lambasar and Evan were indeed… finished!

By now the rock that lined our path had suddenly switched from the aforementioned red, to a yellow, almost mustard like hue and we were monitoring our surrounds with interest as it wasn’t the town of Andej that was the principal attraction around these parts.

Now, the tone of our drivers tune switched to ‘very bad’ as he gestured towards the road, although this regular practice was a source of confusion for us as it seemed to occur when we thought we’d hit one of the better patches!

Tourists, what the fuck would we know!?

Anyway, as I’d been saying, poor little Andej doesn’t really pull the tourists (although at this time of year, I think it’s very possible we were the only foreigners within a hundred kilometres), but a series of canyons nearby surely does.

Likened to the Olgas in Australia (which I’ve never visited, but I didn’t think this was quite like the pictures), all I can say is it was a pretty decent stop in the middle of our day.

We had a little explore around, marvelling at the rock formations and even clambering up a rickety ladder into caves hollowed out of the rock and known as the ‘guard station’.

Our German Jawa (we think his actual name may have been Balghari, but we were never able to confirm this) then insisted that we snap a pic of him beside a sign that he was most fond of (he was ever eager to insist that we take photos of them everywhere we went, despite our inability to read Farsi…), so we duly obliged.

With three sites now ‘finished’, that left only one more, but this was the main event, the very reason for our visit to this cold part of Iran during the depths of winter.

Our final destination was but a slippery ascent away (after another brief drive of course), Alamut Castle.

We passed a small ticket booth, very closed at this time of year and thankfully saving us another entrance fee in this country full of overpriced (for foreigners) tourist sites.

The slope was fairly steep and muddy to begin with, the mud eventually surrendering first to snow, and ultimately ice as we reached an in theory easier scent in the form of a stone stairway.

With the addition of ice however, this became a little trickier and a lot more treacherous, especially if we let ourselves get distracted by our stunning surrounds.

Cresting the first rise, we could see the narrow path then weaved its way downwards for a short period, before again beginning its frosty climb, so we halted to enjoy a few chocolate biscuits before continuing on.

Patches of hard ice caused the occasional slip, but nothing that sent either of us sprawling to the deck, whilst up ahead we’d noted a large wooden gate.

Was it open, we had no idea, but having come this far we were committed to investigating further.

Thankfully it sat ajar, and we could continue onwards and upwards over a stairway that was more and more resembling a frozen stream!

As we gingerly navigated our way through a particularly difficult section, a door to a nearby hut swung open (a slap of paint on the wall identified it as a ‘guard house’) to reveal a sentry in all his dishevelled glory.

Not really wishing to leave the shelter of his porch in his socks and sandals he merely asked how many we were, then satisfied with the answer, returned indoors to I assume comfortable warmth.

By now, directly above us sat Alamut Castle, in all its scaffolded glory.

This wasn’t really a surprise, as what we’d read had suggested the location was lacking in the charm stakes thanks to these ever present covers which I can assume shelter what remains of this last bastion of the Assassins, but from atop the battlements it is said the views are stunning.

So, up we went!

There were a series of information signs in both Farsi and English, but in truth with the place resembling an abandoned construction site, it was difficult to envisage what they were referencing.

Eventually we re-emerged into the daylight, and here above a couple of frozen cisterns, we were able to appreciate those much vaunted views.

It was pretty stunning!

The town of Gazor Khan was easily visible below, but it was the snow-capped mountains visible in pretty much every direction that were the heroes for us.

We admired for a while, then figured it was time we began our slow, careful descent back off of this rock, a feat we managed without incident, although we didn’t look all that brazen I’m sure, at times inching our way down, almost sitting on our arses.

A herd of woolly goats mingled near the bottom of the stairway, guarded/guided by a local man and possibly the only five, non-wild dogs we’d sighted in the whole country.

When one decided to make a lunge towards us, it certainly looked pretty wild for at least a few moments, but thankfully some quick intervention from their master prevented us from becoming acquainted with its sharp looking fangs!

It’s very likely that word had passed through town that there was a car heading towards Qazvin (our driver had picked up a local on our way there), as waiting patiently on the side of the ‘main’ street through Gazor Khan was a guy with a chain saw looking for a ride.

He was promptly collected, and just like that we were on our way, our adventures in Assassin country complete.

 

Notes:

* The bus from Kashan to Qazvin direct, cost us 215,000.00 Rials apiece.

* Our driver for the Alamut Valley cost us 2,000,000.00 Rials for the whole day, which got us to Lamiasar Castle, Evan Lake, the canyons near Andej and Alamut Castle.

* From what we could gather, there is a 100,000.00 Rial per person entrance fee for both Evan lake and Alamut Castle, however in the middle of winter, there is nobody collecting it, meaning it was FREE!