Today was another travelling day. I fear that the next couple of days will be a little like this as I make my way up to Baku in Azerbaijan. I left Quazvin at around 10am  and was told that buses don't use the bus station anymore. Instead I had to make my way to a pretty undistinguished junction on the outskirts of town and try and hail down a passing bus from there. This wasn't as easy as it sounds and passing buses only slow down for a second (just enough for you to try and shout your destination to the driver) and you pray that it's the right bus willing to take you. After an hour of trying this , none came or if they did they were already full. Luckily a man selling melons nearby came over to help. I told him in broken Farsi where I wanted to go and he set about searching for suitable transport. He seemed more pre-occupied by my well-being than selling his melons, but somehow managed to find a truck that was going in the right direction. It wasn't going all the way to Astara but was going part way there and then I could change and pick up another one. I just wanted to leave and so gratefully accepted.

And so followed an improvised series of lifets to Astara. It was an unorthodox was to travel, but it suited me fine. As i got on and off several different cars and trucks I felt rather like a fragile parcel being passed from post office to post office. Each time I got off someone nearby was given instructions as to what I was doing and where I was going and was looked after until finally I made it to Astara around 5pm, utterly exhausted. I spent my last few rials on a relatively comfortable hotel and slept.