Bright red and a headache (page 1 of 4)

Hello 🙂

I should be serving a warming drink to the participants in the discussion about gardens and parks that provide us with beautiful photos, I could mention the delicious buttery scent wafting from bakeries in the thread about returning to France, but my heart, its powerful pulse that nourishes my entire being, is elsewhere.

Dasht-e Lut, Yazd, Esfahan, Bam, Kerman, Qeshm, Hormuz—a melody, a prayer at the heart of desire.

A dream, an unattainable fantasy? No. Not anymore. A very serious Italian travel agency is organizing this trip for 6 people this winter. I’m signed up, I’m going, I’m living. Maybe.

"But you’re completely crazy!!!!"

I know... I know that every civilization, every society has a vital need to create scapegoats to define and justify itself, pathetically. And Iran is one of them, top of the list. I laugh or sigh, and it doesn’t bother me.

But that unchanging red, deep red and garnet, so beautiful in itself, in all the Western chancelleries repeats, whispers, shouts: don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, you’re putting yourself in danger and we can’t do anything for you. You’ll be turned into mere bargaining chips, into arguments for endless negotiations. Fear must be instilled, its power absolutely preserved, no concessions made to the enemy. The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is always lacking.

Traveling becomes a merciless confrontation between desire, the vital pulse, and anxiety, its ghosts.

Catherine

Hi Catherine,

I think you’re right about what’s going on. But maybe by now you’ve got an Italian passport?

Michel

PS: So it’s no longer Bishkek?

Hi Michel,

Maybe you don’t know this, but France used to be *extremely* possessive: it was me or no one else, or I’d strip you of your French nationality. That’s not the case anymore (or so it seems), but in the meantime, Meloni’s Italy has become just as bad. If you don’t have typically Italian red blood cells going back I-don’t-know-how-many generations, you can’t even apply for Italian citizenship. In short, I missed the narrow window—the tiny time slot—due to my careless, couldn’t-care-less attitude. And now I only have a French passport. Slightly worse than an Italian one: an Italian journalist was recently imprisoned in Evin (sounds like a Breton name, right? 😉).

Catherine

PS:

PS: So it’s no longer Bishkek?

Bishkek was just a pastime. A way to see a stretch of the Karakoram Highway (one of the world’s great places) and check out the possibility of continuing on to Kashgar. From Milan, all of that is really hard to wrap your head around. It was through the agency offering to climb Lenin Peak in Kyrgyzstan that I found this Iranian trip.

No, no, I suspected as much, but I thought that in 5 or maybe 8 years—Hungary, for example, took 8 years, the Netherlands 5—you might have changed the colors of the potential problem a bit.

I sometimes watch, an old passion for motorcycle travel, the journeys of "Itchy Boots" / Noraly Shoemaker in Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and I think her passport is really enviable, so much less compromising. https://youtu.be/bbKQNqu50a0?si=X46DCNJNy4QtRGLO I’m not convinced a French passport would have allowed her to do that kind of travel. In case of trouble, the Dutch culture regarding consulates and assistance to travelers is also completely different.

Well, since it didn’t happen, in Iran you’ll go "as you are."

Michel

Alright, let’s talk about your points, which aren’t mine, by the way 🙂

No, no, I suspected as much, but I thought that in 5 or maybe 8 years—Hungary, for example, is 8 years, the Netherlands, 5—you might’ve changed the colors of the potential problem a bit.

In Italy, it used to be 5 years. A language test (easy for me) and, after a bunch of lengthy administrative formalities, you’d also get Italian citizenship. The issue then, since I didn’t want to replace my nationality but align it with my life and identity—so dual citizenship—was France. For this country, the only justification for dual citizenship after birth is... marriage . No joke, it doesn’t make sense. And the marital bond (the yoke of oxen hitched together), well... let’s move on...

That said, today, even if an Italian passport would’ve been a little less ideologically rigid and a bit more pragmatic than a French one, it still wouldn’t solve my Iranian issue. The Farnesina lists Iran as a deep red.

Cat

The information (how many French hostages, real or fake, compared to the number of travelers?) is still missing.

You might want to contact Cécile Kohler, Jacques Paris, and Lennart Monterlos for the latest updates on this country.

I don’t exactly boycott dictatorship-countries, but since I’m not really into rough travel experiences, I avoid those where I’m clearly not welcome ("I" meaning my way of life), like countries that are too unstable.

And Russian roulette isn’t my favorite pastime.

I was curious enough to click on the "Iran" link highlighted in my reply. Here’s what I got:



*Sigh*, sighs. In Italian: *ma vaffanculo*, *azz*. Vaffanculo to you, to all of you, and to your ideology, your arrogance, your ridiculous pride.

Cat

Hello local embodiment of French intellectual nobility 😛,

What percentage of tourism in Iran do your unfortunate compatriots represent? It’s the only missing piece of data—cruelly missing—that’ll let me make my decision.

Catherine

Iranian tourism professionals are complaining about the lack of Western visitors. The majority of entries are from Iraqis, followed by Afghans and then Turks.

Fewer than 500,000 travelers come from outside these three countries.

Most come from countries "friendly" with the Iranian dictatorship: Russia or China, for example. Some are also religious tourists (Shia pilgrims from Pakistan, Kuwait, etc.). Others are into medical tourism (cosmetic surgery), usually from the Middle East.

There are 1,000 French citizens registered on Ariane for Iran. 90% are dual nationals.

In short, Europeans shouldn’t expect to have the place to themselves in Isfahan.

One indicator is the number of recent travel journals for the destination. I’ve searched online, but the ones I find are all pre-Covid.

Hi Lillie

that you already know, right?

I don’t know. Actually, no. How is it possible to truly know a country without living there fully for years? I know a bit about France and Italy. I’ve never set foot in Iran.

I’ve been approaching it, brushing against it insistently for years. Since a noisy dawn of birds in front of Ararat, just a few kilometers from the border. Books, films—the ones "they" select and deign to show us. So partial, biased, that’s certain. Landscapes, cities of stunning beauty. A language, too. A density of past, both different and shared. I glimpse it, desire it, feel I could love it. Far beyond what it is today, a contingent avatar, perhaps or undoubtedly.

The question here and now is: will desire overcome personal apprehension and the anxiety of loved ones?

Answer in a few days/months. At best, you’ll gain a beautiful travel journal. 😉

Cat

There are 1,000 French citizens registered on the Ariane system for Iran. 90% are dual nationals.

So that’d put us at about 0.75% (3/4 out of 100) of "political hostages"... Interesting, very. What are your sources? 🙂

Catherine

In a newspaper dear to Tatra...😛

(The other tourism data came from an Iranian site and a Lebanese site)

Good evening Agnès,

One indicator is the number of recent travel journals about the destination. No matter how much I searched online, the ones I found were pre-Covid.

After the Covid mess, in 2023 it was possible, and I was about to do it. Then it became clear there would be an armed confrontation with Israel, the scale of which was impossible for the average citizen to grasp. It happened. And for now, it doesn’t seem like it will happen again.

I’m thinking, I’m thinking tonight, that the last time I tied my brain in knots before leaving was for Kars, which was completely off the beaten path. And I had one of, if not *the* most moving trips of my life there—rare light under the snow. So...

Given the topic: maybe traveling is about looking your fear—partly induced—in the eye, taking it in your trembling hand, and saying, "Come on, let’s go." 🙂

The travel journal will be called "All the Way to Hormuz," I think.

Catherine

Good evening,

I’m used to personal attacks, that’s true. I’ve had worse, that’s true. But as a press reference, you should find something else... Look to the left if you want. https://www.liberation.fr/medias/2005/12/20/la-prefecture-pige-a-ouest-france_542405/ I admit it’s old (from my only trip to Tehran, by the way), but since then, I haven’t given much credit to *Ouest-France*. This isn’t where I’d go for information.

Michel

Maybe traveling is about looking your fear—partly self-induced—in the eye, taking it in your trembling hand, and saying, "Come on, let’s go." Smile

Possible for some folks.

I think my personal risk-taking pretty much stops at skiing. Maybe some hikes too.

My last scare was on Mauritius. The ocean can be treacherous.

But dying? That’s nothing. Ending up in a jail cell sounds way worse.

Tatra that provides a source. I'm still stunned. 😄

Telegram from Persia June 2, 2011 -- STOP Iranian hospitality fabulous -- STOP -- Little bro Seb: 'But how can they love us so much in such a short time?' -- STOP -- No tourists encountered in ten days except a couple of Germans who biked from Europe -- STOP Tehran detestable -- STOP -- Lorestan province cool and welcoming, Khuzestan stifling with a large Arab minority -- STOP Men as warm as women are absent -- STOP -- Apartheid everywhere -- STOP -- Outside of students, conservative atmosphere -- STOP -- Strong animosity toward Israel -- STOP Gastronomy nonexistent -- STOP -- Lamb kebabs, rice, and bread -- STOP -- Carrot juice the national drink, we prefer kiwi, cherry, and melon juice -- STOP Ruins of Persepolis tomorrow -- STOP Splendors of Isfahan the day after -- STOP Love and kisses from Shiraz, city of poets -- -- END

Hi Louis,

Thanks. 2011 😉

@Agnès

Ending up in a jail cell seems significantly more unpleasant to me.

We agree. The question is how to assess the probability that I’ll at least end up there—or at least pass through. 😉 But I don’t think we’ll agree on this destination. For me, if Paris was worth a mass, Hormuz or Yazd are worth a hijab. And that doesn’t put my identity in the slightest danger—it’s infinitely more solid than any outfit here or there.

Catherine 🙂

I could’ve made an effort with the costume before.

But the murder of Mahsa Amini and what followed confirmed my decision to wait for better days to visit this country (not to mention the potential risk of being taken hostage).

The fruit is ripe—the mullahs’ clique is on an ejector seat. One more spark could make them disappear.

Iran definitely deserves better than a visit where you’re hugging the walls of a country smothered under a lead blanket.