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Crossing the border here was not as easy as others I have seen. First of all, the gate was all the way out of town. I had plenty and how! The friendly keep of the hotel flagged one down for me and got me the going rate without me even asking. I'm going to miss this place I think Once the taxi arrived at the gate, however, I was still a long way from the border post. There was supposed to be some sort of taxis or bus that would take you through the complex, but I saw no such thing, so I just walked.
And up some more. The border was at the end of the valley, perched up on the top between the formidable cliffs on either side. It was rather confusing where to go, but I made my way without difficulty. The border had not opened yet when I reached the top, so I had some waiting to do. The border was eerily empty, except for an old bus full of what appeared to be sleeping people. The bank opened at , so I went to change some dollars into Turkish Lire. I wrongly figured that I would have difficulty changing Rials into hard cash on the other side of the border, so I would rather get some Lire before I crossed.
What was I thinking? The man quotes me a rate, and I would swear he said "Lire". The rate he quoted was very bad, but I needed cash. We go through the elaborate ritual, and I gave him my money. But though the window he slides, not some new currency I haven't seen before, but the familiar Iranian Rials! I wanted Lire. It turned out that the guy had actually said Rial before. I misheard him, he misheard me. Well you are at the border. Give me my dollars back.
I thought he was going to play the waiting game, hoping I'd give up. So my next step was to sit back, relax, and pull out my journal, busily jotting away. When customs opened, I entered the building. It was rather like an airport, very efficient.