Bandar Abbas is bustling, and alive, yet its swept into a place in the world where it goes unknown and unnoticed. I eventually go the bus station and thanks to the help of the Captain of the ferry I took, I got a bus ticket to Zahedan.
To see a women alone in the region of the world is one thing, but to see her covered in tattoos, despite wearing an abaya, is another thing
. I couldn’t conceal myself enough and sure enough very quickly, many locals swarmed around me, curious about my origins, where I was from and what on earth I was doing alone in Iran. I kept to myself for the most part and the wait for the bus was quite uneventful, except for a fight between two squabbling travel agents inside the bus terminal who got very physical throwing chairs above their heads. I walked in and thought "Gaaah really? Cant you guys just be mature and keep it together in front of the women??!!" It got very violent and I was sticking around to watch it. I got on my 4pm bus and had a very long ride to Zahedan, vibing to Afghani house music played by the driver, and eating dates. About 3am all were trying to sleep, including me- which was hopeful wishing, and thats as far as it got.After what felt like 20 police check points, we rolled into the sleepy Balouchestan town of Zahedan. I was exhausted and freezing and quickly got a Taxi into the center of town to find a hotel.
