Few birders visit Iran, fewer still that travel independently. But leave aside the preconceptions and venture beyond the media stereotype, the country is truly an amazing place, inhabited by a most gracious people and blessed with a culture second to none and landscapes that incorporate all from high Alpine peaks and lush green valleys through to vast desert vistas, stark coastlines and shimmering marine environments dotted with corals, intertidal flats and mangroves. And then there are the birds - along with an impressive array of desert and mountain species and an unrivalled selection of waterbirds, Iran is home to some mighty fine specialities, including Grey Hypocolius, Iraqi Babbler, Sind Pied Woodpecker and, the jewel in the crown, inhabiting the remote deserts of the interior, the enigmatic Pleske's Ground Jay.
Never has a country humbled me as much as Iran, the people day after day left me in awe, a deep warmth and genuine welcome at every turn.
And so it was, after conquering the hurdles to get a visa, the trip was ready to begin...
12 August.
With visa tucked into my pocket, off I went. A straightforward flight down to Istanbul to await my late evening transfer onto Turkish Air for the final three-hour hop to Tehran.
13 August. Hot in Minab.
2.30 a.m. arrival in Tehran. Customs and immigration a breeze, straight into a taxi for a dash across Tehran to the domestic airport. 6.00 a.m., Iran Air departure, a two-hour internal flight to Bandar Abbas, the port city at the head of the Straits of Hormoz and heart of the sweltering south.
Stepped off the plane in Bandar Abbas, an immediate assault by hot humid air. From the runway, an Indian Roller flew over, African Rock Martins mobbing, let the birding commence. An hour and a half later, having successfully navigated through taxi drivers and into a savari, I was 125 km east at my first destination. Sandwiched between arid slopes rising to the east and luxuriant date plantations, Minab would be home for the first night. 10 a.m., now settled into the Sadaf Hotel and mightily impressed that air con blasted my room with a nice chill, it was time to jump in at the deep end. Already 35 C and hyper humid, it felt like being whacked with a brick as I walked out of the hotel! North of town, a short stroll from the hotel, date palms stretched as far as I could see, flanking a dry river bed - off I strode, an Eastern Pied Wheatear soon on the list, See-see Partridge, Little Green Bee-eater and more Indian Rollers following in short succession. I was already dripping, sweat drenching my tee-shirt ...this was going to be no picnic in the park! Two scrawny dogs wilted under the first palms, mad dogs and Englishmen came to mind. 'Salaam salaam', friendly locals peered on with amusement as this foreigner staggered by. In the shade of trees, I gulped down most of my water, White-cheeked Bulbuls and Purple Sunbirds flitted, a Sand Fox sauntered off, seemingly bewildered that I'd disturbed his slumber. Laughing Doves everywhere, one White-breasted Kingfisher glared down from a stump of a broken palm. Finding an irrigation canal, I set this as my path, regular stops to plunge my head in the refreshing waters, it had now hit 40 C, the humidity was absolutely stifling. Lacking one night's sleep, unacclimatised and quite possibly already dehydrated, I began to question my sanity. I pushed on regardless, Yellow-throated Sparrow added to the collection. Somewhere in these palms, Sind Pied Woodpecker occasionally lurks, a localised semi-endemic confined to just a few localities in the far south-east of Iran and a slither of neighbouring Pakistan. Search as I did, I was not going to see it this day however - as the early afternoon sun began to pickle my brain, a guy on a motorbike pulled up. Without question I jumped on and off we went, the breeze a relief. A few kilometres up, he dropped me off and I wandered into a village. Much in need of refreshment, my second 'mighty impressed' moment of the day came with the discovery that the village kiosk sold refrigerated milk ...ah, I was beginning to love Iran already! Clutching my litre of milk, I trotted off into a grove to savour my precious find - gulp, gulp, gulp ...then I spotted some eyes peering down - a Spotted Little Owl, what luck!
By now, I needed a break. An asphalt road left the village, so I reasoned it must somehow connect with Minab. Another motorbike pulled up, I jumped on again. After 5km, we reached a junction - he pointed to a long lonely road, the way to Minab. Not disheartened however, I was already learning that Iranians are people of incredible friendliness ...and sure enough, the very first car stopped and took me all the way back to my hotel. Thinking the climate of this southern province might just kill me, I collapsed on my bed.
Lulled by the air-conditioning into believing it might have cooled down, I ventured out again at 4 p.m.. It hadn't cooled down at all! I decided to explore wider and hitched a lift 20 km down to the village of Tiyab, a small fishing settlement on a creel leading to the Straits of Hormoz. Most atmospheric, traditional wooden lenge boats beached on the mud flats, Western Reef Herons and Indian Pond Herons picking their beneath. Another litre of milk downed, the fourth of the day, and I set off to find birds - unfortunately low tide, so most birds probably kilometres away, but Greater Sand Plovers and assorted commoner species suggested more in the offing. As the town came to an end, a boatyard seemed a good vantage point. On the gravel court, a flock of Indian Sand Larks, a truly unexpected bonus, while overhead a Gull-billed Tern circled. Blue-cheeked Bee-eaters next, but the highlight of the day was waiting just to the south. As the sun began to set, the heat mercifully dropping a degree or two, I sat and watched the comings and goings, a Saunder's Tern fishing, Pied Stonechats on saltmarsh opposite and then the piece de la resistance, two Great Stone Plovers emerged onto the mud bank just in front, magical. Giant stone curlews with a stonking great bill, these birds were the perfect ending to my first day, a third appearing more distant.
Almost dark, time to get back. Iranian hospitality proved itself again, I didn't even need to start hitching, a car pulled up and asked if I needn't a lift. Direct back to my hotel, time for me to sleep!
To be continued...
Never has a country humbled me as much as Iran, the people day after day left me in awe, a deep warmth and genuine welcome at every turn.
And so it was, after conquering the hurdles to get a visa, the trip was ready to begin...
12 August.
With visa tucked into my pocket, off I went. A straightforward flight down to Istanbul to await my late evening transfer onto Turkish Air for the final three-hour hop to Tehran.
13 August. Hot in Minab.
2.30 a.m. arrival in Tehran. Customs and immigration a breeze, straight into a taxi for a dash across Tehran to the domestic airport. 6.00 a.m., Iran Air departure, a two-hour internal flight to Bandar Abbas, the port city at the head of the Straits of Hormoz and heart of the sweltering south.
Stepped off the plane in Bandar Abbas, an immediate assault by hot humid air. From the runway, an Indian Roller flew over, African Rock Martins mobbing, let the birding commence. An hour and a half later, having successfully navigated through taxi drivers and into a savari, I was 125 km east at my first destination. Sandwiched between arid slopes rising to the east and luxuriant date plantations, Minab would be home for the first night. 10 a.m., now settled into the Sadaf Hotel and mightily impressed that air con blasted my room with a nice chill, it was time to jump in at the deep end. Already 35 C and hyper humid, it felt like being whacked with a brick as I walked out of the hotel! North of town, a short stroll from the hotel, date palms stretched as far as I could see, flanking a dry river bed - off I strode, an Eastern Pied Wheatear soon on the list, See-see Partridge, Little Green Bee-eater and more Indian Rollers following in short succession. I was already dripping, sweat drenching my tee-shirt ...this was going to be no picnic in the park! Two scrawny dogs wilted under the first palms, mad dogs and Englishmen came to mind. 'Salaam salaam', friendly locals peered on with amusement as this foreigner staggered by. In the shade of trees, I gulped down most of my water, White-cheeked Bulbuls and Purple Sunbirds flitted, a Sand Fox sauntered off, seemingly bewildered that I'd disturbed his slumber. Laughing Doves everywhere, one White-breasted Kingfisher glared down from a stump of a broken palm. Finding an irrigation canal, I set this as my path, regular stops to plunge my head in the refreshing waters, it had now hit 40 C, the humidity was absolutely stifling. Lacking one night's sleep, unacclimatised and quite possibly already dehydrated, I began to question my sanity. I pushed on regardless, Yellow-throated Sparrow added to the collection. Somewhere in these palms, Sind Pied Woodpecker occasionally lurks, a localised semi-endemic confined to just a few localities in the far south-east of Iran and a slither of neighbouring Pakistan. Search as I did, I was not going to see it this day however - as the early afternoon sun began to pickle my brain, a guy on a motorbike pulled up. Without question I jumped on and off we went, the breeze a relief. A few kilometres up, he dropped me off and I wandered into a village. Much in need of refreshment, my second 'mighty impressed' moment of the day came with the discovery that the village kiosk sold refrigerated milk ...ah, I was beginning to love Iran already! Clutching my litre of milk, I trotted off into a grove to savour my precious find - gulp, gulp, gulp ...then I spotted some eyes peering down - a Spotted Little Owl, what luck!
By now, I needed a break. An asphalt road left the village, so I reasoned it must somehow connect with Minab. Another motorbike pulled up, I jumped on again. After 5km, we reached a junction - he pointed to a long lonely road, the way to Minab. Not disheartened however, I was already learning that Iranians are people of incredible friendliness ...and sure enough, the very first car stopped and took me all the way back to my hotel. Thinking the climate of this southern province might just kill me, I collapsed on my bed.
Lulled by the air-conditioning into believing it might have cooled down, I ventured out again at 4 p.m.. It hadn't cooled down at all! I decided to explore wider and hitched a lift 20 km down to the village of Tiyab, a small fishing settlement on a creel leading to the Straits of Hormoz. Most atmospheric, traditional wooden lenge boats beached on the mud flats, Western Reef Herons and Indian Pond Herons picking their beneath. Another litre of milk downed, the fourth of the day, and I set off to find birds - unfortunately low tide, so most birds probably kilometres away, but Greater Sand Plovers and assorted commoner species suggested more in the offing. As the town came to an end, a boatyard seemed a good vantage point. On the gravel court, a flock of Indian Sand Larks, a truly unexpected bonus, while overhead a Gull-billed Tern circled. Blue-cheeked Bee-eaters next, but the highlight of the day was waiting just to the south. As the sun began to set, the heat mercifully dropping a degree or two, I sat and watched the comings and goings, a Saunder's Tern fishing, Pied Stonechats on saltmarsh opposite and then the piece de la resistance, two Great Stone Plovers emerged onto the mud bank just in front, magical. Giant stone curlews with a stonking great bill, these birds were the perfect ending to my first day, a third appearing more distant.
Almost dark, time to get back. Iranian hospitality proved itself again, I didn't even need to start hitching, a car pulled up and asked if I needn't a lift. Direct back to my hotel, time for me to sleep!
To be continued...
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