Day thirty seven - 07 September 2009 - Doggy Biscuit, chador catwalk

The 'Iran 3' were waiting for taxis at 4:30am to take them to the bus to go to apply for Iranian visas. The taxi is late, so they may have missed the bus.

In the morning, we go into town as a group and the ladies go off to buy their Chadors for Iran. I am looking forward to the catwalk show later.

I go to the barbers and get shaved by a boy who doesn’t look old enough to shave himself. However, it is the best shave I’ve ever had, although it is also the first time I have been to the barber for a shave. He goes twice over with the blade and gives me a face massage, all for three Lira (about £1.20).

Then it’s a trip to the pharmacy for anti-diarrhea tablets. The pharmacist doesn’t understand what I am asking for, so he leads me to his computer to type it into Google translator. I then realise I don’t really know how to spell diarrhea (this is spell checked), but he works it out in the end.

In another shopping adventure, Andrew, the young depressive / would be psycho who is becoming slightly more normal by the day, buys some sandals for a bargain, but finds that they are two left feet when he takes them out of the box.

At an internet café, I have a friendly chat with some off duty Turkish army conscripts, there being a large base in the town.

The 'Iran 3' return late in the day. Apparently it was a close run thing getting their visas, as the Iranian consul was closed and the guard was not going to let them in. However, an ambulance arrives at the consul and the gates open, so they follow it in and eventually triumph over Iranian bureaucracy.

Dave celebrates getting his Iran visa

Belgian Sam has a last beer before Iran

Our farewell to Turkey sees gale force winds tonight, and I am sleeping in my tent. Nevermind, in the evening we get our chador fashion show from the girls, with some of us men not able to resist trying them on ourselves.