Teheran

We stand in the immigration queue in front of a veiled customs officer and don't know what to expect. And there's something else that's making our foreheads sweat: Our guest gift is gurgling in one of the travel bags – and alcohol is banned under penalty of law in the Islamic Republic of Iran. Why didn't we think of this earlier? Images of stonings and floggings flash through my mind as I slowly make my way towards passport control. The customs officer gives me a friendly wink: "Welcome to Iran." That's it.

An emaciated old man in his underpants sits on the edge and carefully ladles the hot sulphur water over his head. I carefully dip my foot into the pool and recoil: the water seems to be boiling! It's unimaginable to go in without getting burned. But the old man nods encouragingly at me and very slowly I let myself slide into the pool...

In bright sunshine the next morning, we set off for the high-altitude camp "Bargahsevom" at 4,200 m, the last one before the summit. We want to see how far Mount Damavand can be climbed by bike. However, the astonished to pitying looks of the oncoming mountaineers clearly lower our confidence. And indeed, we are only able to ride the first few meters on the dusty single trail, then we have to push – the remaining 1200 metres in altitude to the camp. Only the prospect of riding down this path again motivates us to push our bikes uphill, hairpin bend by hairpin bend...

Still high above the city, we lie on a rocky plateau in the sun and grin like crazy. What a country, what a descent! The ground becomes darker and sandier, and many sections are now paved with steps and walls. We seem to be approaching the urban area again. But the altimeter still shows 2500 meters.
Whenever we think that the city finally begins around the next bend, the path becomes wilder and more technical again. At least we meet people again who greet us with a big "hello" and insist on a souvenir photo together. We don't actually reach the bottom until early evening. The brakes are smoking and everyone is tired – but happy and enriched by a first-class descent.

Travel information: Who, what, when, where¿?

Going snowboarding in Iran?¿ Our friends look at us with doubt and shake their heads when we tell them about our plans. Where are you supposed to be able to snowboard there? Isn't it just desert and war? And if so, it's surely a tour for people who have finished with life. But we experienced exactly the opposite?