In my last article about Iran, I mentioned Jean and Susi, a German couple traveling on two BMW motorcycles. I continued riding with them for about a week, but once we reached a small village after Isfahan, where the Tak Taku Guest House is located, we went our separate ways. From there, I left with another German rider, Sasha, and we had planned to travel together all the way to Shiraz. On the road from Tak Taku to Shiraz, in the middle of the desert, a completely random car decided to cross the road without looking. It was one of those endless straight roads you often see in Iran, with no one around except Sasha and me. We were going pretty fast, around 90 to 100 km/h. The car barely missed Sasha, but I was right behind him and got hit straight on. I was thrown off the bike but got up immediately. Furious, I took off my helmet and slammed it to the ground with all my strength. Anyone who knows me knows I never get angry, but at that moment, I completely lost it. Right after that outburst, I took a deep breath and calmed down instantly. I was alive, standing, and that’s what really mattered. I asked the guy who hit me to help lift the bike. I turned it on and surprisingly, everything seemed fine. In the meantime, Sasha hadn’t realized what had happened. When he noticed I wasn’t behind him anymore, he turned back and found out. We tried to talk to the driver, but he didn’t speak a single word of English. The only thing he kept saying was “No police, no police.” People started stopping to stare, and even though we hadn’t called anyone, the police showed up. The guy who hit me panicked and begged me to send them away. The officers started asking questions and took our documents, and Sasha convinced me to go to the hospital. After three hours of waiting, the ambulance finally arrived. Sasha who turned out to be incredibly kind promised to take care of my bike and join me at the hospital. On the way, I called home and said, “I’ve had an accident,” and then the internet in Iran cut out. I probably took ten years off my mom’s life with that one sentence. I arrived at the hospital and people looked at me like I was an alien. People came in and out of my room just to take photos of me. Even doctors and nurses who had nothing to do with my case came by just to see me.

I met the hospital security guard the only person who spoke English and he helped me by translating everything. They did X-rays and found my wrist was broken. According to them, I needed surgery. But after seeing the hospital’s condition, I didn’t think twice I told them I’d return to Italy for proper treatment. It was night by then and we were in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t even a hotel nearby. So the military told us to sleep at the local fire station. It was a surreal experience. I got in the car with the soldiers while Sasha followed on the bike. At the fire station, they told me that the next morning I’d have to go to the police station to sign some papers. I spent a terrible night — my wrist was broken and held in place only by a piece of cardboard, the pain was intense and the heat was unbearable. The next morning, the military came to pick me up and took me to the station. The man who hit me was there too. The police asked me, right in front of him, how much money I wanted and told me they would make him pay. I couldn’t bring myself to ask for anything. This incident might cost me one or two thousand euros maybe a month of work but for him, it could mean a lot more. I simply asked that he pay for the tow truck to take the bike back to Tak Taku, where Mohamed, the guest house owner, would take care of it. I signed a bunch of documents I couldn’t understand. I booked my flight home with just one thought in my head: this is only a short break. I’ll be back. I said goodbye to Sasha and thanked him from the bottom of my heart. I called a taxi and went to the airport. After a long flight, I arrived in Italy and went straight to the hospital. The doctors took one look at the way I was treated in Iran and laughed. They confirmed my wrist was broken, but no surgery was needed — just rest. All’s well that ends well. It took a month before I returned to Iran. Looking back now, if this accident hadn’t happened, many things wouldn’t have and maybe it saved me from even worse situations. I realized that being careful is not just necessary in traffic but also when there's seemingly nothing around you. That’s something I can reflect on now, but even in that moment, thanks to my positive mindset, I knew everything would be okay. And it was.