If You Don't Like Rap Music, Move to Iran

Borders are my nemesis. Just over three years ago, I ended up in a holding cell "trying" to enter Russia without a visa. Just under three years ago, I sat sweating like a waterfall at the Pakistani-Indian border. Last year, I travelled by armed bus convoy at 4am to as close to the Sudanese border as one could ever hope to get.

Borders make me nervous. Entering my own country even gives me the butterflies, let alone a country I don't have a visa for. Not sure why, but I fear the worst. As my luck would have it, the border guard/customs official would be having a terrible day and decide that he didn't like the cut of my jib. Off to deportationville I go....

I approached the border with apprehension. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how stupid I was being. Loitering around border crossings is exactly what got me into trouble the first time. At least we didn't have a Lonely Planet...

Seriously. Who goes to the Iranian border without a visa expecting just to hang out?

Locals kept pointing us down the road. Where was this border? Alas, we turned a corner. A narrow, pedestrian-only walkway greeted us. There were cafes on either side, along with a shop specializing in packaging loose goods together with tape. We stopped to marvel at the pots filled with a fusion of Iranian and Azeri food on display outside one of the cafes.

Well, at least we knew where we were eating on the way back. Provided we weren't thrown in jail.

We approached what was ostensibly the Azeri side of the border. It wasn't much more than an enclosed, open air space with one door leading to Iran. A guard approached us.

Oh, here we go....

He asked us what we were doing and if we had a visa. I said no, but that we just wanted to see. He then asked where we were from. After pondering for about ten seconds, he decided that the answers we gave were good enough to allow us to take a look. "Well, there's nothing to see, but you can go through the door," were is parting words.

Past the first level.

Through the door, we ran into another border guard. He was younger and much more curious. We chatted about this and that. The thought of baksheeshing the guy to let us into Iran for a quick look momentarily crossed my mind.

Ha. No wonder I get into trouble at borders.

It became clear that we weren't getting into Iran on this day. We bid adieu to the guard and went to the cafe for lunch. Safe and sound.