Exit from Iran in wartime

While millions of Tehrani chose to stay in the capital of Iran, others left to search for a shelter from the Israeli bombing. The author is a double citizen who has traveled for a distance of 1150 km, through the Iranian countryside and mountains, in his efforts to return to London. Request to write under Rossam the name of the pen.

Three days after a visit from London to my elderly father in Tehran, I woke up to the sound of loud explosions. It seems that the planes were flying over it. I managed to see the buildings on the fire – huge fires – at the distance. Iran attacked.

Throughout the day, thick smoke rose from buildings. People were worried but surprised, many used to say: “This will end soon, we have passed this several times before.”

Although my feeling is that things can deteriorate very quickly. I arranged for my father to go to the countryside, but after calling tears from my daughter, I decided to go home for my wife and my children, although the idea of ​​leaving my father in these circumstances was horrific.

Initially, my goal was to go to Astara, the border city with Azerbaijan because it was the closest – 500 km – from Tehran. However, on the day I left, I realized that the Azerbaijani border crossings were limited to citizens with a special permission.

The other option was Türkiye, a very arduous journey than 900 km northwest. The reports were increasing from the large waiting lists on the Turkish border and there were rumors of their closure periodically, as some travelers returned back.

I started to feel. But then a relative said that a friend was leaving for Yerevan in Armenia the next day with a group of family and friends. When he said there was room for me, I felt very comfortable.

The group met early in the next morning at the main bus station in West Tehran, which seemed more preoccupied than usual. We have included many families, including children and the elderly.

Google Maps put 1,150 km on YEREVAN in 17 hours; We had to drive directly, with no stopping overnight, only short rest periods. I have prepared myself. Fortunately, the fuel was not a problem – the bus started with a complete tank and was not fuel during a 800 -km trip to the Armenian border.

The traffic was fine at the beginning, but then we reached the highway. The 90-minute journey took to the first large city-five hours.

Going was so slow that some drivers had stopped off the highway of the picnic under the trees or under a piece of fabric on two cars that stop the shade. It seems that there is no sense of panic.

In the end, we stopped at the highway service station near two rulings, with well -equipped stadiums and food stores. Then we pressed on Tabriz, through a armed scene characterized by the synthetic industrial building. The more we travel north, the more agricultural landscapes, with beautiful fields and orchards.

Now, our collection was sharing snacks, fresh fruits and food we brought. The bus had a refrigerator, and we also had ice cream. We were extending our legs by walking up and down on the bus. Some, others, sleep, when the incomplete internet connection allows the news to follow their phones. By the time we approached the historic city of Tabriz, the capital of Iran during the sixteenth century, we covered 600 km and fell at night.

I couldn’t sleep at all, but it is strange, I did not feel tired. Now we were driving across cities and small villages, which looked very charming, even in the dark.

In the end, we were about to approach the Armenian border border border when we got a thorn on the way. The driver was stumbling. The right turned. The only light was the moon, and while we were walking, I could see the silhouette of the elderly mountains that looks great.

Then, suddenly, the driver stopped and began to reflect. The road has disappeared. I do not know how a three-point turning point was managed with that big bus, but somehow we got to the same intersection-and this time we took the left turn.

We traveled along the river and everyone was comfortable when we saw the lights of the streets bright at regular intervals indicating the border. We have stopped by a man suffering from an army fatigue accompanied by another man in civilian clothes, who had a rifle.

Women began taking the veil but the army man, who was polite, told us to relax. After checking the back of the bus with a flame, we wave us. A short distance, we finally arrived at the Iranian side of the border where we got out of the bus, and said goodbye to our three drivers with advice.

For my amazement, the crossing was not busy – we entered something similar to a small regional building with weak fluorescent lighting. Our luggage passed through the X -ray machine and our passports were sealed. The guards looked comfortable, as if it were a normal week. We all felt comfortable, but no one felt joy. We left the family and friends behind them and Iran was attacking.

We were told that we had to walk one kilometer with our luggage to reach the position of the Armenian border. Fortunately, there was a type of golf cart that took the elderly, children and some luggage. The rest of us withdraw our luggage across the uneven surface.

The Armenian Border Building had a feeling of Soviet-very high ceilings, a small store free of customs duties and a table with dozens of cigarette packages that people eat for free. We received Armenian officials who smile in Persian, which is nice.

We still have another 360 kilometers Lerivan, this time climbing to a new bus. It broke the daylight. The scene was among the most wonderful areas it had ever faced – the mountains covered with velvet grass in which plants and flowers looked like embroidery.

We allowed ourselves to breakfast for one hour in a simple and small restaurant but it is magical-fried eggs, omelette, lentils and the most delicious Lavish bread.

Finally, Yerevan appeared on the horizon. The driving took eight hours from the border, and the entire trip from Tehran, 31 hours. When the bus entered the main square to topple us, no one clapped or chanted. How can we?