When we went down for breakfast Monday morning (Oct 21st) Hossein R (the guide that helped us at the border) was waiting for us. As noted in the previous post he had come all the way from the Caspian Sea coast to sort out an issue with the Iranian Customs Department who were coming to the conclusion that we (Nina and Robert) had sold our vehicle and left the country
The first item on the days agenda was for us to go to the office of the Immigration Police and get our visas extended. So off we went with two guides to help us. At the entrance to the police compound we hit our first snag. No one was there. Apparently all the staff were at some kind of parade and non of the gate guards knew when they were likely to arrive.
We occupied ourselves getting photocopies of our passports and Iran Visas at a nearby small shop. At the same shop we also got application forms for our visa extension and set about completing the forms (2 copies each) in both English and Farsi. It's a good thing we had a guide or two with us.
Like many others we talked our way into the office even though no staff had yet arrived and sat around waiting.
By the time staff turned up there was quite a crowd of people jostling for attention. Just so you know, Iranians have no concept of that well known British institution the orderly queue. At this point the difference in personalities of our two guides became very evident. Hossein R adopts a very vocal and overt strategy for getting attention in the crowd, where as Mr H is more of a quiet achiever. In this situation the more voluble strategy took the lead and within a short time we had done all the paper work we could and it was time to go and pay the fee associated with the visa extension. Wouldn't you know it the fee had to be paid at a specific branch of Bank Melli that was all the way back in the center of the city. So after a couple of hectic taxi rides we were back at the office receipt in hand asserting our need to be the next group serviced by the harried officers.
As we set off for the bank to pay the fee it became obvious to Nina and I that we were wasting the time of Mr H as Hossein R was taking the lead regardless of whose "home turf" we were on. As it happened there were a few things that Mr H had to take care of at his main job so he left us to go and attend to his main job.
By about 11:00am all of our paper work had been submitted, and approval given for a 30 day extension. All that remained was for a stamp to be placed in our passport. We were told "come back before 2:00pm".
We then turned to the next item on the days agenda.
It seemed that our task in regard to the truck was to convince Customs that the truck was still in Iran (beyond its orginal 7 day permit) because it had broken down and could not be fixed until replacement parts arrived. It seems that this would take the pressure off Hossein R who had guarenteed that the truck was only in Iran temporarily.
The first step was to get a letter from a workshop to the effect that the vehicle had indeed broken down, was currently being parked in a truck storage yard and that new parts were on their way. To my surprise and relief Mr H (the Shiraz guide) had arranged that the Mr H1 (remember the Mr H1 and Mr H2 in this story) who owns a repair shop was prepared to do this for us. So armed with the letter we went looking for the customs office.
Our first stop proved to be the wrong office, the correct one was miles out of town past the airport. Interestingly one of the gate guards at the first office turned into an informal taxi driver and offered to drive us to this remote place.
This second office clearly existed to process freight in and out of Iran. It was a large office building, on a large site and had lots of trucks parked at the entrance. We were there for a couple of hours while Hossein R talked to various officers and various letters were written, copies made and forms filled in. But it did look like the officers knew what they were doing and that there was a process that went with our problem.
After all the paper work, one of the more senior offices told us that he needed to sight the truck and that we should call him on his cell phone at 4:00pm to make arrangements to take him to the truck at 5:00pm. With that plan in place we returned to the hotel via the Immigration Police collecting our passports that now contained that all important extension stamp.
By the time the 4:00pm phone call was made the officer had decided that an inspection of the truck was not needed, but that photo copies of all the truck importation documents was needed. So at 5:00 we met him outside his apartment and handed him the papers. All done, we thought.
Next morning Nina, Hossein R and I had all independently decided that we needed some evidence of yesterdays interaction with Customs. At 8:00am Hossein and I went back to that same customs building to get a copy of the letter the officers had written yesterday outlining our situation. After waiting for the relevant staff to arrive and get through their morning rituals, and then some back and forth we departed with a copy of that letter. Now we felt it really was all done
As it turned out Monday night the hotel was full, packed would be a better description. Tourists everwhere.
So where was Hossein R going to sleep? Certainly not in a room of his own as there was no such room.
Nina, bless her heart, observed that we had a spare bed in our room.
That was the solution, Hossein R got the singe bed. Next morning he woke to greet us with the comment, "So Nina you can say you slept with an Iranian".